Interview: Leiberman Live on Howard 101
What is a Wack Pack?
If you've ever found yourself singing "Imran Khan lives with his dad and mom", the Wack Pack needs no introduction but for those of you that are not familiar with the Howard Stern radio show... the "Wack Pack" is a term used for the people who regularly call into the Stern Show who may not be, lets say, so regular. Over-the-top fans, angry drunks and people who appear less than balanced are but a few of the folks who make up this odd yet completely fascinating group.
'Leiberman Live' is a fifteen minute news program that runs daily on Howard's SiriusXM radio channel. The show is a rather unimaginable mixture of real news, Wack Pack reactions to said news, and one outsider who has a unique perspective on the topics of the day.
Yesterday, I was that outsider...
The show was incredibly fast-paced, often serious and periodically ridiculous - I had a fantastic time and getting to do the show live at the Sirius studios in New York City was a blast. When I was booked on the show last month the topic was parenting and spanking but the tragic school stabbings that occurred yesterday and the news story about the couple who took their small children on a ill-fated trip across the ocean, were also addressed. The show may not be for everyone, but if you think you may enjoy hearing me give rapid-fire answers to serious parenting questions just moments after men named Bobo and Ira the Weatherman (I don't think he was really a meteorologist) prattle on about, well, I'm not sure about what - I'd check it out.
Me (On left) and Jon Leiberman
Huge thank you to Howard Stern (Who I'm sure doesn't know I exist), Jon Leiberman (Who was a mensch) and Connie (Jon's fabulous producer) for having me on the show - great time, big fan!
My apologies to those who are currently singing "Imran Khan Lives with his dad and mom" - maybe the audio from my segment will help to cleanse your brain pallet...
Arden's Day of Diabetes: #DayofDiabetes
Around a year ago the JDRF did this cool thing where people could sign up for text alerts that were meant to simulate having diabetes - so people could understand better the relentless nature of living with type I. I loved that idea, but how could I not? That's exactly how I started Arden's Day.
Six months ago some wonderful folks did it again on Twitter using the hashtag, #DayofDiabetes and I loved the idea even more (Twitter is perfect for this) and participated in the event. Those same people brought up doing it again today - I'm in.
I'll be tweeting, Facebooking and refreshing this blog post all day whenever diabetes requires interaction. I wonder what kind of day with diabetes this Day of Diabetes will be?
Midnight: My day with diabetes began around midnight when a late evening bolus just would stop. Managed temp basal rates to get Arden's BG to 110.
4 AM: Up again to set more decreased temp basals. Finally gave up around 5 AM and gave Arden some juice (1/4 of a box) . Ended up staying awake because the juice wasn't working. Of course, the juice I added at 6 AM ended up being too much - figures.
7 AM: Up for school and now blousing to stop the BG rise from the second juice sips. CGM now 160, arrow straight up. Juice sips worked too well!
7:50 AM: Replaced juice box in Arden's bag (Used it last night for a low during softball pitching practice), set a timer for 45 minutes on her phone. Going to try and eliminate high BG (190 CGM) before school snack at 9:30 am.
8:28 AM: Blogged about diabetes
9:07 AM: Just texted with Arden, need her to test her BG. She told me to "wait five minutes" apparently they are in the middle of a contest. #DayofDiabetes
9:30 AM: Arden and I texted for her school snack. BG was 190, stubborn this morning. We boluses for 30 carbs. I asked her to test, she wanted to bolus from CGM. She said, "Fine I will but if they match I will poop on you" - I hope she meant the emoticon. They matched BTW.
11:00 AM: Lunch time text.
1:48 PM: Post Gym #CGMnow is 97. Temp basal off for 30 min and a few carbs should hold it there. We’ll see. #DayofDiabetes
2:30 PM: Arden will be home soon. Time to pack a bag with supplies so we can go watch her brother play baseball for the school team. I don't remember what it feels like to run out the door with just my wallet and keys. #DayofDiabetes
3:16 PM: So the one day I try to outsmart an after school drop in BG... diabetes does the opposite. 185 and creeping up. Damn
5:07 PM: Some mini muffins will stop the bg fall. Only bolusing for half. #DayOfDiabetes
6:30 PM: Made a wild guess about dinner carbs on the way to a restaurant. Needed the pre-bolus time to work on a slightly elevated BG. I won't know hoe well I guessed for about 90 minutes.
SiriusXM Listeners: I'll be on Howard 101 Today at 4:45 EST.
I'm today's in-studio guest on 'Leiberman Live'!
"Leiberman Live” on Sirius XM Howard 101 is a daily news show on the Howard Stern channels. Jon Leiberman is a seasoned journalist who appears on the Howard Stern show and on television shows regularly discussing the news issues of the day. This 15 minute show couples expert opinions with the opinions of those from the Howard Stern world. The end result is a mixture of information and entertainment sure to inform and entertain. Catch it all day on Howard 101!
Today's topic: Today's multiple stabbings at a Westmoreland County high school, parenting and more.
Rumored Wack Pack guest: Bobo!
The Boy in the Red Hoodie
My shame deepened when I recognized that my jealousy was a despicable conflict of the love and admiration that I have for my daughter and the intense way that I want type I diabetes to not exist.
Every spring the parents of our town's Little League baseball and softball players get together to clean up the fields that the children play on. I normally bring my backpack blower and help with the leaves that are leftover from the fall.
A few people bring their children, but for the most part kids are usually left at home.
My blower is crazy loud and so I wear noise-cancelling headphones while I operate it. The headphones, combined with the music they play, have a way of mixing with the vibration of the blower to create my very own sensory deprivation chamber. I can't hear anything but the music and so no one ever tries to speak to me, it's as if I'm invisible.
Eventually my blower ran out of gas and the illusion of being alone was lifted. I looked up and saw a little boy in a red hoodie playing by himself in the grass of the outfield; he must have been all of four years old. I watched him play for a few moments; he appeared to be off in his own world. He spun in circles and was talking out loud to what seemed like imaginary playmates - his parents off somewhere helping with the clean up. The site of him was heart-warming and yet, I was also crushed by the carefree nature of his joyful abandon.
I couldn't stop myself from wondering if his parents knew how fortunate they were to be able to let him run on his own, without worry. I tried to remember what it was like to not feel that pressure in the back of my head - do you know where I mean - it's the point where my skull and my spine connect. That pressure of concern and vigilance, the feeling that you are always guarding against something that may or may not be coming. It's the omnipresent tension of readiness to act, coupled with the intensity of constantly having to assess and reassess your surroundings and situation, so you can be ready at a moments notice - for anything. An ever-present and exhausting state of fight or flight.
In an instant I felt ashamed for wanting the boy's parents to know how I feel. It was a mad rush of conflicting emotions that left me confused. There was a part of me that wanted to tell his parents how lucky they are, I wanted to beg them to cherish this small, yet wonderful moment. I wished I could convey to them just how jealous I was so that they could know how fortunate they are. My shame deepened when I recognized that my jealousy was a despicable conflict of the love and admiration that I have for my daughter and the intense way that I want type I diabetes to not exist. I watched the boy for a second longer as I wondered if my daughter will ever get to feel life so simply ever again, then I lifelessly mumbled 'fuck' under my breath and walked away to refuel my blower.
When I returned to the leaves my moment of jealousy had passed and I began to think about all of the dozens of people on the field. What challenges did their lives hold that I am not aware of? In just a few minutes of consideration, I realized that each of the people at the park likely had countless life issues. As I tried to imagine what those challenges were, I recognized that they could be marital, health, financial, family, and on and on. The more I thought, the more I could imagine - and the less feeling jealous about the boy in the red hoodie seemed reasonable.
A Picture of a Tired Man
I've been feeling a little beat up lately and yesterday I thought for a few minutes about how I could elevate that feeling. "Maybe I should stop blogging", I thought to myself. You see, there's this post that I put up a few months ago called, How To Spot a D-Parent and it's success vexes me. I like the post a lot, please don't misunderstand, but it's just a picture of me looking tired. That post has been seen so many times, thousands upon thousands of views and shares. So much in fact that periodically I'll notice that it has found life again on Facebook and it starts all over again. So this isn't complaining, I love that people enjoy the post and I am grateful beyond description that it is being shared and visited. But it's just a picture of me looking tired and it's confusing and just a scosh defeating to write something that I connect with very strongly and watch those words not catch the eye of readers. To pour yourself into a piece of writing and watch it sit, untouched, is a feeling that I could only describe in very artsy terms that I'd be embarrassed to share here - but in a word it 'sucks'. However, I understand that everything I share won't connect and I genuinely don't have a problem with that truth, well I didn't until a picture of me looking tired made writing on this blog seem like a waste of time. Why not just take a picture and write something vaguely amusing on it I've begun to wonder - maybe www.ArdensMeme.com is available?
Anyway, I've found difficult of late to write the way that I like to, not because it's possible that I'll post in on a slow social media day and fewer people will read it, not because some may not enjoy it or feel it the way that I do - it's difficult because, well, that damn picture just makes it all seem so (I'm thinking of too many adjectives to pick one). Back to the part where I was considering not blogging to make my life easier...
Last night I received an email from a person who reads this blog. They asked me a question about a device and ended the email with this line, "Thanks so much. Keep doing what you're doing! You are helping to inspire an entire generation of T1D's!" - and with that I was instantly pulled from my funk. One wonderful sentiment reached me from somewhere in the diabetes online community... at exactly the moment that I needed it.
Thank you so much A.G.! You may have saved my blog, which is so much more to me than a blog. You just saved me from internalizing so my fear, guilt, struggles and uncertainty. You saved the people that come here to find commonality - you may have even made me let go of the confusion I felt about a picture being more popular than anything that I've written in months.
Thank you again, I'm going to answer your email and then finish a story that I started weeks ago and couldn't find the inspiration to finish.
My Best,