Getting Down To Business… and Halloween

There’s a line in a Kanye West song where Jay-Z raps,

“I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man.”

I repeat that line to myself from time-to-time.  I love it because, whether you like rap or not, the line is quite simply, clever.  What a difference a comma makes (As does “comma”, vs “coma” as I just typed and am laughing).  I also like the line from my perspective as a business woman (I work in product design and branding).  I’m a business, (Wo)man.

When I was a little girl, carb counting with insulin:carb ratios didn’t exist (diagnosed in ’79) but instead there was the Exchange Program.  If you don’t know about this, I won’t bore you with the details.  If you lived through Exchanges, I won’t subject you to having to endure it again.  I will however say that carb counting and bolus ratios are certainly an improvement in both diabetes care and quality of life.

On Halloween, I would go trick-or-treating like every other kid in my neighborhood.  Looking back, it really was ALL about the costume (hell, it’s still ALL about the costume and I may or may not, occasionally wear a Pocahontas or Cleopatra wig in my apartment on really cold evenings because A. wigs are warm and B. those wigs are pretty amazing and make me feel like the coolest girl in school).

My parents would let me have some candy.  The whole “you’re diabetic, and can NOT have candy” thing wasn’t exactly part of my life BUT “you can have ONE piece of this tonight and then a piece tomorrow night” was. FYI – T1D didn’t even exist as a term in those days.

So my parents set me on a path that I believe started me as a business woman (no comma… yet).  When I came home from trick-or-treating, I would get down to work.  I had to set-up my store on the dining room table! I grew-up in a neighborhood with many houses, very close together, which of course meant LOTS of Halloween candy.  I’d empty my bag on the rarely used dining room table and start combining “like” items.  All snickers on one side, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups stacked in a pile, Milky Ways to the left, and so on.  My Mom made index cards with prices.  Everything cost $.05 or $.10 and every so often, a full size candy bar would be in the bag (say WHAT?!?) and that was $.25.  I would strategically position the candy and index card pricing (hello future merchandising) and then announce that my store was open for business.  My parents would enter and make their purchases.  I have to assume they gave my little brother some coins too because in later years, he became one of my customers too.  The older couple next door even shopped at my dining room table candy store.

I know today’s parents of T1D kids can bolus for candy and this whole story is incredibly out-of-date, but since I don’t have kids, happen to be painfully sentimental and am currently treating a low BG with Halloween candy, I think about this series of events.

I had a savings account as a little kid at a local bank and a Savings Passbook.  When I received money for ANYTHING, I had to put some of it in the bank.  Into MY saving’s account (I thought I was Richie Rich after my first Holy Communion which is pretty amusing now).  When My Mom or Dad had to go to the bank I would bring along my Savings Passbook.  My Dad would lift me up to hand the book to the teller who would stamp the “new” amount in my account.  I would deposit my Halloween candy sales AND then get to see how much I had accrued in interest since my last bank check-in.  I was fascinated.  Kids would run around in the bank.  Not me, suckers.  I was a kid with a Savings Passbook and I stood in-line with the adults.  My Dad explained that because I let the bank hold my money and that they used it (OMG, THEY USE MY MONEY), that they had to pay me to use it and that was “interest”.  Get out of town!  My money makes money?!?!

So here’s my thinking for Halloween.  Some creative thinking on the part of my parents along with my broken pancreas helped me learn about money.  And that’s where I get back to Jay-Z.  I am now a business(wo)man, but I am ALSO a business, man (well, woman).

My grandmother who passed away when I was 11 yrs old made this incredible costume.

My grandmother made this incredible costume.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Wordless Wednesday? Whatever.

Yesterday was not a great diabetes day.  I still don’t feel like writing about my doctor’s appointment.

I thought I was off to a great, fresh start at the gym this morning.  Then I got to work and split my pleather riding pants.  Who doesn’t love grunge (or odd skin exposure at work)?

I think we all need more silly moments.  Well, I would really like more silly moments.  Yesterday I snapped the photo below.  It makes me smile.  J Crew Baby looks like some baby had a level 10 temper-tantrum in the window display.  Silly. jcrewbaby

 

I imagine a baby screaming, “NO I DON’T LIKE THAT SWEATER” or “GET ME OUT OF THIS STORE” or ” I HATE THE UPPER EAST SIDE AND THESE PREPPY CLOTHES, MOM”.

I didn’t get much sleep last night.

Smile.  Happy Wednesday.

Giraffe Masquerade

This morning I had my 3 month Endo appointment.  I’ve decided I’m not ready to write about this appointment, yet.  Time to process.  My A1C was acceptable but elevated by .2% which wasn’t shocking or even surprising.  My problem though was with the rushed, interrupted and frankly uncomfortable conversation I had with my doctor today.  When I call the situation “not cool”, it is because I apparently cursed so much my first 15 minutes back at my office, that I may be in “time out” the rest of the day.

So, I left my doctor’s office this morning, shaking my head a bit.  The wind definitely knocked right smack out of my sails.  I started to walk and thought how very much I needed to find a heart  (note: if you follow me on Twitter, you get this.  I find hearts.  The hearts actually just found a new home but only a few have moved there so far.  Work in progress people, work in progress).  So I started walking.  I planned to calm down, shake it off a bit, find a heart, breathe, maybe grab a bite to eat and hop on the subway.

I never stopped for a snack, I realized the Upper East Side of Manhattan has a distinct lack of graffiti (especially on Madison Avenue), and I walked close to 50 blocks before I found this glorious yellow heart:

yellow heart leaf

 

 

 

 

 

While I attempt to wrap my head around today’s appointment, I leave you with the following from my post-endo walk:

giraffe

 

Somehow an inflatable giraffe wearing a fancy masquerade mask did cheer me a bit.

 

 

Wisdom, Naps and a Blue Skirt

Okay, I like this and should remind myself to read it more often.  Maybe even send myself this post occasionally?  This Swami was full of great wisdom nuggets (Google him).

“Self-acceptance comes from meeting life’s challenges vigorously.  Don’t numb yourself to your trials and difficulties, nor build mental walls to exclude pain from your life.  You will find peace not by trying to escape your problems, but by confronting them courageously.  You will peace not in denial, but in victory.”

Swami Sivananda (1887-1963): spiritual leader, author, physician

An now for a little Friday levity.

This is what my dog looked like when he woke-up from his nap last night:

popnap

blue skirt

 

And in honor of Blue Friday, I’m sporting a very blue skirt today.  Are YOU wearing BLUE#blueFridays  

xo

Don’t Fall For Pretty

If you are going to bed, and see this:

 

Note the time.  Started treating 5 minutes before this photo.

Note the time.  Started treating 5 minutes before this photo.

DO NOT TREAT WITH THIS:

g2

 

Why?

Because apparently my NEW emergency juice is low calorie which means = LOW CARBOHYDRATE.

And then THIS will happen:

NOTE the time.

NOTE the time.

At almost 11:35 pm, after BGs hovering between 49 and 54 for a FULL 30 minutes and feeling my heart racing, tears welling in my eyes over and over as my brain short circuited, (but oddly not sweating), panic creeping further and further into my body, I looked at the Gatorade label.  5 grams of carb per serving.  Like drinking air.

Who knew Gatorade made such a low carb drink?  As a non-Gatorade drinker, I picked the WRONG emergency juice to have at home, but the purple had looked so pretty.

Learn from my mistakes people.