#DBlogWeek: Memories.

My participation in this year's Diabetes Blog Week can best be described as scattered, iffy, occasional, not as originally intended... I seem to have once again over-booked myself in terms of both projects and future energy stores. I love this event, though! Everything you need to know about Diabetes Blog Week can be found here if you're curious, and Karen is a saint in my book for organizing us all.

Today's prompt: Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere.... your or your loved one's diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share.

Oh, man.

It's hard to pick just one day - plenty of memories, both good and bad, have been a result of my life with diabetes.

My diagnosis story? I don't remember much about it, though I do appreciate the compassionate care I've received from medical professionals along the way. There was that time my insulin pump died and I didn't even care because MARRIED! There were times as a tween where my diabetes scared the crap out of my parents - twice they found me unresponsive in bed and had to use glucagon (though, to be fair, I actually don't remember much of that, except for the part where I woke up to see two paramedics standing in my room). Bad highs? I've had those, too.

But for all of the muck that diabetes has thrown my way, there are some pretty great memories, too: when I ran-ish a half-marathon, when I've traveled to Australia or the Dominican Republic, and during that week in Florida where I met, finally in person, so many of my good friends who also happen to have pancreas problems. Diabetes was the reason I got to attend an awesome summer camp for two years. Diabetes has helped me tell a story that did good beyond just myself, and motivated me to create something that can continue to help other people living with diabetes. It gave me a reason to dance to One Direction.

What I guess I'm saying is that diabetes has made for many memorable days in my life, but my current favorite? The day we found out I was pregnant. It was the day I first really let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, diabetes will let me live the life I want after all.

It gave me hope that this body perhaps isn't as broken as I sometimes fear.