Transition

And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.

--T. S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"


For almost two years Pumplandia has served as an outlet for my frustrations and hopes as they pertain to diabetes and to life in general. It has helped me connect with brilliant writers and compassionate human beings--and even, almost miraculously, a few individuals who are both. To some extent, I hope, this site has also been a public resource for PWDs and those who care about them.

Recently, the actions of one person have presented me with a difficult choice between writing this blog privately or not at all. (This individual isn't part of the OC; it's a personal matter.)

Discontinuing the writing isn't an option; my connections to this community are too important to give up. Pumplandia will therefore be shifting to an invitation-only format over the next week. Friends and known members of the OC will receive an invitation via e-mail with instructions on how to access this page. (Unfortunately, use of the invitation requires a Google account, which is free but may be irritating to some folks.) I am also happy to share access with verified medical personnel, researchers, industry types, ADA/JDRF folks, and so forth.

If we’re pals and you don’t receive an invite by 12/4, please drop me a line, as it’s surely an oversight.

If you’d like to continue to read Pumplandia but are not known to me by an e-mail address, please write to violetgirlz@hotmail.com and introduce yourself. If we aren't already acquainted, please include a reference to a mutual friend or active member of the OC who will vouch for your identity, or a verifiable professional credential related to diabetes. I regret that I cannot invite readers who lack a reference of this sort.

My hope is that all the people who are meant to read Pumplandia will find their way back to it over time. Thanks for your interest and support.

Moderation in all things...

...including moderation.

I realized this morning that the reason I haven’t posted for a while is that I’ve been feeling sheepish.

Lately I can’t seem to follow the rules. Recent posts include the occasional reference to donuts. I left out mention of the scones, pancakes with syrup, dark chocolate, toffee, fried everything, Chinese food with luscious sweet sauces, pecan pie...

Pecan pie!

I hadn’t eaten pecan pie for more than two years. (It’s still good.)

These various excesses have left me of late with numbers somewhat above average, to put it gently. It’s partly the choice of foods and partly the sheer difficulty of guessing how to cover them. Which reminds me of another interesting phenomenon: my usual habit of estimating carbs on the high side out of preference for lows over highs has fled. I keep taking too little.

I could chalk all this up to stress or travel, but I’ve had plenty of periods of stress and/or travel in the past. I’ve kept pretty well to my food guidelines for most of them. Something different’s going on.

I think there’s a need to rebel now and then, even for compliant Violet. Maybe especially for compliant Violet. Truth is, if I had to believe that I could never binge again for the rest of my life, I don’t know how I’d cope. The world of food is too replete with pleasures to concede them all forever.

It’s a better strategy, I know, to have a little treat now and then as opposed to an enormous one every day (or twice a day, ahem). The former is my usual way, and I’ll get back to it soon, if for no other reason than that I’m starting to feel binged out. Yet I think there’s something to be said for claiming an audacious freedom now and then. It reminds me that I’m still alive in ways that can be measured by means other than an a1C test. It reminds me that control is a choice—yeah, the right choice, but still a choice, not an absolute, not a prison.

It reminds me that while I may have this silly disease, it doesn’t have me. Huzzah! And I mean that in a most immoderate way.