This particularly complicated title grammar-wise comes from yours truly, Waldon. My friends birthday was on the 15th, and due to a particularly complicated series of events I didn't get to go to his birthday supper or hang out at his house. This was a part of his present.

Actually, it's not that complicated. My diabetes was just acting up again. :P

Today was my second last day of work. No, not second last as in tomorrow will be my last, but second last as in, I've had TWO last day's of work this year.

I worked at a greenhouse. I am a seasonal laborer and I do heavy lifting and manual labor in the physical regard for minimum wage. I don't even have a job description. During the summer I work at least 40 hours a week. I would make about an even 450 to 500$ per paycheck and I would save it up to buy my friends presents during my summer vacation. I was laid off this year on the 16th of August, I believe. I left town on the 24th? Or the 27th. I can't remember.

Several weeks ago I was contacted by my boss who wanted me to come in to work a few days over the Christmas season to help lift and load Christmas trees. I was excited. That's an extra 10 hours of work every two weeks I could put to expenses. I readily agreed.

So, on the 9th the trees were expected to come to town, and I was needed to work. BUT! My boss screwed up when he was trying to contact me and then I didn't get his message for a long time. In fact, I didn't get it until I was an hour into ANOTHER job. So, it was a pretty sad performance on BOTH our parts. I called in and by the time I did that the trees were already unloaded. I felt for sure that I was going to lose my work hours this season, but lo and behold, my boss was working at the auditorium the same night I was filling in for an AWOL stagehand at the auditorium. Coincidence? I think NOT!

So we talked about it, we both realized our mistakes and laughed it off.

So for the past 2 Sundays I've been at work from Noon to 5. Not a long shift by any stretch of the imagination. So I was good with that. Then today was my last day THIS sign in. Thus, it was my second, last day.

I know, I know. I'm complicated.

Think for a second guys and/or girls, that ^ was confusing, Bre has to deal with all my crap ALL THE TIME. God love that girl, I don't know what I would do without her. :P

After work today, Bre invited me over for a little while, so over I went. We chilled out for a while, talking and all that jazz, but I eventually had to go home to refill my insulin pump. I hate that thing sometimes.

So, I think I'm done for the night. Good night Everybody! Merry Christmas! :)
-Waldon

Waldon here. I feel horrible, as you may have been able to tell from this blogs entry title. As I've mentioned before, I am a type one juvenile diabetic. Tonight, my body decided not to cooperate again and send my sugar level skyrocketing again. This is a repeat of last week's ( or was it the week before? ) sick day for me. So, I think I'll have to keep this one short and sweet (Ha. That's a PUN. ).

So because the only interesting things that happened to me today was sorting dirty cans and having a couple nosebleeds, I'll talk about something different. The emotional effects of diabetes. Most people think that diabetes is purely physical, and for the most part, it is. But there are still things that pop up in the life of a diabetic that make our, or at least my own, life very difficult. Mostly it's the feeling of inequality. I find myself thinking about how I'm less than everybody. Or about how I shouldn't be here, I should be dead. It's a very mortifying subject to think about.

Diabetes will ruin you. That's the only way I can say it. It makes you feel like you don't deserve what everybody else has. I feel like I'm some blight on society and on particularly bad days I wish I hadn't been born. I've resolved never to have kids, for the one reason; never having the chance of passing on many of my physical defects onto my children. Diabetes, Osgood Schlatter's, Asthma, Distended Lungs, Compressed Heart, Deformed Ribs. . . Diabetes is the root of almost all of this, shaping my body from my first diagnosis. Since that was very early in life, I was kind of tainted, I suppose you could say.

I would love to have kids. There would be nothing more gratifying than being able to shape the life of a child and raise them. But I would never be able to live with myself if I gave them what I have. My life expectancy is low, so I can't hope to keep them happy either. Oh well, I'm sure the girl I like will find another man better for her than me.

Now I'd just like to point out that tonight, this is purely my blood sugar speaking, please don't assume that I'm some Emo kid thrashing about life. I'm not normally this bad. Ignore this, I'm kind of incapable of thinking of much else at the moment.

Good night everybody, I hope you have a good nights sleep.
-Waldon

Waldon here! Happy Guy Fawkes Day everybody! Or Bonfire night, whatever you want to call it. Today was the day that we celebrate or remember the attempted treason of Guy Fawkes on the British Parliament, I believe.

It would have been a night to remember for years, if it wasn't pouring down rain. I mean, the one night of the year that I'm expected to burn things really big and it's RAINING. Come on. Give a guy a break.

I had to go get my Influenza shot this morning. I went down to our local Legion, where they were holding the shots. Makes me paranoid when there's medical facilities outside of a hospital. I feel like I'm being tested on again. I went through with it, anyways and continued on to school. Did everything normal and eventually it was lunch time. I forgot my glucometer in my locker, so I resolved to check my blood levels after I ate. I did so and guess what I was surprised with?

My blood level was so high, that my glucometer couldn't read it.

That is a level of 33.3 mmols or higher. That means my blood was likely 9 to 10 times higher than a normal person's. Possibly higher. Of course, because I KNEW that I was high, I started feeling horribly sick. I was dizzy, nauseous, tired and almost incapable of coherent thought. I ended up going home early and giving myself copious amounts of insulin. Diabetes sucks.

But it doesn't matter, I'm not going to die until I've lived long enough to see all my friends lead successful and happy lives. :P

Anyways, later on Bre came over and played Harvest Moon again. xD She loves that game. I was reading some Psyren and drinking coffee and eating cookies. I got Bre some Green tea, which I SHOULD be drinking. It brightened up my night/day when Bre came over.

By the way, I'm still really sorry Bre. I told you I would hang out with you if I didn't have improv practice, but I guess this makes me a liar. I'll make this up to you, I really will.

Well, this Guy Fawkes day mostly sucked. And with that, I'm done!
-Waldon

A few weeks ago my sister called me and asked if I would be willing to help her with a project her group was assigned with for her classes in university. I, of course, told her I would help. Her group was doing a project on physical and mental disabilities that hinder learning in school, or something similar. Her group was assigned, wait for it. . . Diabetes. I am a type 1 Juvenile Diabetic. I have been since I was 4 years old. There is nothing to me that doesn't revolve around Diabetes. The sheer coincidence of this is astronomical.

Of course, I immediately got started working out a rough draft on the essay I was going to write on how my school life was effectively screwed up by diabetes. Within 2 weeks I had a 1500 word essay on the subject. But of course, I was stupid when I sent the email and immediately deleted the email after I 'sent' it, and deleted the video.

Within two days I hadn't heard from her so I asked her if she got the email. She didn't. So I got down to it and rewrote it. Didn't have time to do the video though. Called her, asked her if everything was alright.

ALL SHE WANTED WAS JOT NOTES.

So, being the dutiful brother I was, I revised the entire 600 word essay and did it in jot notes. 3 times I did that email. I hope she's happy. Anyways, I thought I'd take up some more space by posting the email here;

"When I first started school, I clearly remember people not understanding me when I said I was diabetic. They automatically assumed that because I was different, I was dangerous. So many of the other kids who didn't know any different avoided me or teased me. This could have been avoided much earlier by having the teachers prepare the students by explaining to them what Diabetes was.

When first starting school, having students tease me regularly made me feel horrible about myself. Diabetes was something that was out of my control. Having the teachers make me stand in front of the class to explain what was different about me usually had the effect of making me feel like I was less than the other students, or for lack of a better term- a "freak". I myself would have preferred if the teachers didn't tell the other students about my diabetes so directly and explained it to them in a better way.

When I was first starting school I had to use direct insulin injections with a syringe. I was a young child, it was hard for me to remember to do that when I was eager to go outdoors or to try and make friends. If I forgot, I was usually sick within a few hours. Having a teacher take a greater role in my diabetes management would have been a great help for this.

People also didn't understand diabetes in the school environment. Many of the teachers only had a passing understanding of diabetes. Several times I've had to fight to make my teachers understand when I was having an emergency with my blood sugars or my insulin pump. Substitute teachers especially. This could have been avoided very easily with some proper education. And usually, I did keep most of the problems away by being prepared. I kept a case or a small pack filled with sugar for low blood sugars, test strips, for checking my blood glucose when I felt sick or low, and usually ketone strips just in case of emergencies.

In school, there were many things that I needed to have, but didn't because of my own folly, or a collective mistake. Many times I got low on insulin while in the middle of class, and had to call for Mom to bring me another change of set for my pump to last the day. There should have been somewhere for me to store supplies that I know will be a safe place.

I am almost finished my last year of high school now, and there are still people who have known me for almost my entire school life, but don't know anything more than the bare basics of diabetes, if I had an attack in school, there would be very few people who would know what to do to help me.

My pump is normally attached to one of two areas in my body that i use regularly. My lower stomach and my upper hind thighs. So because of that, the tube from the reservoir for insulin in my pump is usually hanging around my thighs. It regularly gets hooked on desks or handles. In school where there are many objects that have the potential to hook onto my pump, I have to be careful all the time. On several circumstances I've had things or people hook and pull on my tube hard enough to pull off my site.

Also, with the changes in blood sugar I experience, I regularly feel my emotions changing rapidly, this makes it very hard for me to talk to people when I'm having problems with my sugar."