So, I set the DVR to record Oprah's discussion on diabetes the other day. Diabetes runs in both my father's and my mother's families, and my mother was diagnosed with high blood sugar while undergoing Cancer treatments. I spent the first 20 years of my life clueless about exercise and nutrition. While I have been living "clean" for almost 10 years now, I worry that my unhealthy childhood has taken years off my life. I know that I am at risk for this disease…but then, we are all at risk. According to the show, six million Americans are walking around with diabetes and they don't even know it.

The show interviewed a woman who was diagnosed with Diabetes in her 30's, and had now required dialysis treatments three times a week (three hours each) for the last decade. She has lost the lower half of one leg, and the front half of her other foot. Dr. Oz asked her why the disease is so prevalent, and she said something to the effect of, "People think, 'it's just a little sugar.'" Her story was chilling.

I could not help but think of one of my grandmothers, the one that chooses to ignore her disease rather than learn to live with it. She figures that they can just give her more insulin, and it will all be okay―she doesn't have to change a thing. On the show, they described diabetes as a disease that scrapes your insides with shards of glass. I would rather work on those shards of glass than rely on insulin.

This disease is running rampant. I must make a distinction between Diabetes Type I and Type II. Type I is not yet totally understood enough to know how to prevent the disease (or if it can even be prevented at all). That being said, Type I Diabetes makes up only 10% of all diagnosed cases, meaning that 90% of the diagnosed cases could have been prevented and can be cured through lifestyle changes. Isn't that amazing?

So, one of the top 10 killers can be wiped out, if the patient is willing.

I think that's food for thought. Truly, we are killing ourselves.

My weight loss changed my life. Socially, it has alienated me from the people who thought I broke an unwritten code by becoming aware of my lifestyle. Physically, it has given me energy, and the strength that I need to deal with chronic pain and illness. Most of all, I hope that it has put me in a position to prevent disease (which makes the alienation worthwhile). I watched my mother cling to life as long as she could against a disease that she could not control. I feel like I am honoring her love of life by protecting mine.

I only wish that more people would fight for their health. Fanatics talk about the end of the world like it is going to be some terrible natural disaster or biological weapon...but at this rate, we are going to be our own end.

Four Years…



Some things you never really get over. I think my life can be summed up into two phases: my life before January 26, 2006, and my life after January 26, 2006. I suppose it is an obvious fact of life that your parents will one day leave this world before you, but I was not prepared to lose her. I knew her time was limited, but I was not ready to let go.

I remember that after her first surgery, the doctors gave her 15 years. While not happy with the hard dose of mortality, I reasoned with myself that 15 years was a long time. I would be able to pretend like nothing was wrong for quite awhile before having to deal with Cancer. Less than two and a half years later, I was saying goodbye.

I am not using this as a lesson not to put things off. I was never going to be ready to say goodbye.

I just got off the phone with Dad who said that Mom wouldn't want us all mourning still. I told him that I do not cry for her constantly, but this is just my day…my day to miss her. It's my day to be depressed and feel alone. It's my day to remember the bleakness of that day four years ago when I wanted to be relieved of this world too. This living out your life bit—not for the faint of heart, I tell you.

So, I will spend the rest of the night remembering lighter times and blowing my nose in an unladylike fashion. Then I will go to bed and sleep well, knowing that tomorrow will not be this day.

…Brett Favre wins you games, and Brett Favre loses you games. Anyone else think that last night's championship game looked eerily similar to the Packers-Giants game from a couple of years ago? You go ahead and keep him, Minnesota. If he decides not to retire—but even if he does decide to retire, don't take his word for it.

…stay together."

At least, that's according to Nick as we walked out of my chiropractor's office yesterday afternoon. After I found relief last August from regular visits, he broke down and asked me to schedule him an appointment a few days ago after his back went out. Grudgingly, when he was asked to schedule a follow up a few days later, I decided that it was about time that I got into the swing of going again, too.

Now, Nick and I are definitely comfortable around each other, but I couldn't help but chuckle to myself as we looked at each other's X-Rays. I had "Dr. Dave" adjust me first, and he always marvels at how much my back cracks when I just roll into the right position (before he even tries to adjust me). In contrast, Nick thinks he maybe pulled a muscle after his first adjustment.

Dr. Dave was talking to us (Nick, mostly, since my dad has been going to a chiropractor as long as I can remember, and I know how all this stuff works) about how the biggest hurdles for new patients is getting them to relax so they don't tense up and fight the adjustment. Then he looked at me and said, "I've always gotten a lot of movement with you, though…from day one." Hey, we all gotta be good at something. It turns out, I'm good at making my joints adjust without any manipulation.

After my run last night, just before hitting the shower, I leaned down with straight legs and placed my palms on the floor to help stretch out. Nick yelled from the couch, "How do you do that!? Why can't I do that!?" I wanted to smack both him and Dr. Dave yesterday, seriously. My "hyper-mobility", as I have been diagnosed, is the crux of most of my problems with chronic pain. Seriously, you don't wanna be like me.