Chuck Lin

Life in a fish bowl

1000 sit ups

I did 1000 sit ups in the gym today

First Set: 2 x ( 40 x 3) + ( 3 x ( 20 x 3 )) = 420

rest: 1 minute

Second Set: 2 x ( 40 x 3) + ( 3 x ( 20 x 3 )) = 420

rest: 1 minute

Third Set: ( 40 x 3 ) + 40 = 160

Total = 1000

Phew, that was tough but fun. Took a few months of training. If I can do this, you can do this!

Get busy living or get busy dying

Once in a while I see these posts from Manny. I’ve never met Cynthia (mgobluecrk), but I might have read some of her posts and she might have read mine. We share a thread that runs through our lives, a thin connection that is as strong as any bond shared by family. Diabetes connected me to so many wonderful people. A community that watches out for one another. We are each others biggest cheerleaders, the shoulder to cry on and the ones who are always willing to listen.

I don’t know how Manny is able to do this. The community he has built has grown tremendously over the years and it has seen its fair share of losses. Of course I’m saddened each time I see postings of this type, but its important to acknowledge the reality of the situation. Certainly we all have the chance to live a long healthy life, but events like this reminds us to be vigilant.

I’ve never been shy about having diabetes. However, disclosing that fact is always painful. Every time I meet new people I need to make a choice on when/where/how to tell them. Dating is even more difficult. How do you tell someone that despite your healthy appearance, they would have to make major sacrifices to be with you? Sometimes I wonder if I rather be physically handicapped. At least with a visible handicap, there would not be a secret lurking in the corner.

Thirty six hours from now I will be taking my nuclear stress test. I abhor it. Not the procedure itself but for what could result from it. It’s the crystal ball that could tell me when I’ll die. I don’t fear death at all, but I don’t want to hear the ticking of the clock. I want to enjoy all the time I have remaining. Last year I skipped the test, this year my cardiologist is much more insistent.

Tonight I went to The Moth at Nuyorican Poets Cafe with Hannah, LB and Margaux. The topic was about scars. I enjoyed every storyteller who’s stories vary from physical to emotional scars. We sat at the front of the room and the hosts of the show recognized me from when I stood in front of this audience and told my story. They even took time out to introduce me to the audience and the people applauded. I too have a scar. It’s visible on a scan of my heart where a small piece of my heart muscle died. But that’s nothing compared to the scar in my heart that wont show up on any scan.

One day there will be a notice about me. I want to thank Manny for his kind words.

Today I thank: Hannah, LB, Margaux, Manny, Cynthia

Happy Mother’s Day

ach morning I prepare my medication for the day. Metformin, Plavix, Diovan, Coreg, Niaspan, Crestor, Byetta. I make sure I have enough test strips and needle heads for the day. I’m so used to it, I can do it before I’m fully awake.
Its going on three years since my diagnosis. The most difficult thing about having diabetes is the effects it has on my mother. She feels guilty that I have this disease, and she feels completely helpless. For Mother’s Day, I want for her to have one day of not worrying about me. But that’s something I will not be able to give her. I wrote the following entry in September of 2007, it belongs to my mom more than me.

My Three Month Anniversary

25.Sep.07, 11:53 EDT Blog edited on: 01.Nov.07, 03:04 EDT

Finally. It’s been three months since my diagnosis. I’ve had many difficulties in my life, but these past months has been the toughest. My admiration goes out to all the Type 1 kids out there. They have been my inspiration, and every time I feel down, I think of how much more difficult this is for a child.

I’ve been fortunate to have 30 some years of diabetes-free living. I hope to live the next 30 years complication-free.

I want to thank everyone on tudiabetes for their support, and their participation on this wonderful site. I read it often, and for the most part, the people on this site have been my support system. I also want to thank Manny for his hard work on building this place that helped so many people.

So here is my first A1C since I began treatment: 6.5

My A1C at the hospital when I was diagnosed was 9.5. I know I should be happy about 6.5, but but some reason, I didn’t feel happy.

It is a realization that my diabetes is real. There is no misdiagnosis. This is not a temporary situation. I have it. I am a diabetic.

Over the last three months I have been testing 6-8 times every day, injecting insulin, watching my diet, going to the gym, and started yoga. I have kept careful records of every BG on sugarstats.com (thanks Marston). I can tell you that my last my last 30 days BG average was 112, my last 3 month average was 115 and I have given myself at least 150 injections.

I know I have worked harder on this than anything else in my life. I know I should be happy with the results. But I am still disappointed.

Diabetes has taken away something that I will never reclaim. It has taken my innocence. It has replaced it with heart disease, high blood pressure and cholesterol. Even with my BG under control, I still fight these battles every day, and every day the enemy gains a little ground.

Diabetes did do something good for me. It cured me of my ignorance. I was blindly going through life, thinking that I was invincible. It was a harsh reality check and a high price to pay for my ignorance.

It’s amazing that I had to become a diabetic to learn the secret of life. Diabetics know that every day and every action is a struggle to survive and everything has its consequences. We know that pain is a small price to pay for being able to see the next sunrise. You live one day at a time, and in the end, you are thankful for each one.

Mom, don’t worry. I’ll be just fine.

For Mother’s Day, I want to thank all of women who have treated me as a son.
Mom (Pearl), Tammy, Joanne, Simcha, Joyce