Category: Diabetes

Diabetes, Home and Family

Seeing Clearer.

kelseybonilla

Today at church we did our annual “New Years” toast during fellowship to honor the things we’ve experienced together as a church family over the past year. My contribution was easy. I thanked everyone, on behalf of our small youth group, for sponsoring our attendance at the Higher Things Conference: “Who Am I?” last June in Wisconsin. Then, I expressed gratitude for the prayers for my sight to be restored since my surgery in July. “I’m now able to see fully!” I reported, to sweet cheers from our church family.

On New Years Eve, we sit around the dining table and discuss the past year, aided by reviewing the photos in my phone! We talk about what stood out as significant events and important things we want to remember. Both Higher Things and my eye surgery, and subsequent vision loss, were high on the list this year.

Now that my vision is fully restored, it’s a challenge to reflect on what the four months of compromised vision was like. Human beings are very resilient and get used to a “new normal” to a certain extent so it’s not like I was in constant panic during those many months. Also, changes to the body are often gradual. After my third eye injection, my vision rapidly improved in my left eye over about two weeks in early November. My doctor told me at my December 10th appointment that I didn’t need a fourth injection, though the progress had seemed to plateau with a persistent gray veil remaining in my left eye. He was right! Over the next couple weeks, my vision continued to improve. One day last week, I was jogging at the park and realized I hadn’t seen so clearly in well over two years!

The best description I can offer is that I felt disconnected and disoriented most of the time from the beginning of July to about Thanksgiving. The blurriness and loss of peripheral vision, to the point that I couldn’t safely drive on the freeway for months, made me feel out of touch with the present moment. I could read, teach, prepare meals, exercise, watch TV, but the effort it took me to focus and interpret the visual input kept me slightly on edge. I was truly “going through the motions”. Also, rooms with very bright lights or high ceilings would be extremely hard to function in, keeping me from engaging with the people and activities around me.

I could feel the hope arise in me just before Thanksgiving break. I’d wake up each morning and test my vision to see how much more I could see from my left eye! The beautiful stained-glass at our church was a great barometer. At first, I could just see little dots of light which looked like Christmas lights in my left eye. Each Sunday for the next few weeks, the stained-glass images became more detailed. What a joy to see clearly!

December was a whirlwind of teaching, studying, planning, parties, shopping, decorating, and baking! I enjoyed all of it, but the pace of those three weeks of school between Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks was intense! I could feel myself struggling to relax into the break as I was so used to consulting my list and having the next thing to do demand my attention.

The past two weeks have been among the most joyful I’ve experienced in years! We spent time with friends and made calls home to family, but mostly we spent a lot of time just the four of us, and the dogs, watching Christmas movies, going to church, putting together puzzles, walking at the park while Teo shot baskets, baking, and eating (lots of eating!). The pace has been delightfully slow as I lost myself in reading, doing crosswords and completing a very hard puzzle in just a few days!

I know that the peace and joy I’ve experienced lately is partly due to the lessons I learned and relief I feel after experiencing vision loss for the second half of 2024! Even when I didn’t feel connected to the moment or intentional with my time, God was faithfully guiding me and helping me receive the gifts of service and prayer from my family and friends.

Now that I can see, my values and vocations are clearer than ever. I’m so grateful to engage with my family, friends, students, and fellow teachers as we embark into a near year. Happy 2025!

Diabetes, My Awakening

Feeling Seen.

kelseybonilla

Yesterday I experienced an unexpected and delightfully tender moment with my class of 8th grade boys. Typically, Friday afternoon with a group of boys eager to get to the weekend is like herding cats while trying to woo them into paying attention and loving history! Here’s what happened yesterday…

At the beginning of class, I asked if anyone had a Joshua Tree permission slip for our trip later this fall. That led to a brief explanation that while I’m going as a chaperone, others would be coming too because I can’t scramble on the rocks due to ongoing vision loss in my left eye. (If you’re wondering, I still have total loss of vision in my left eye from surgery on July 5th. Which really deserves an entire post of its own, so I’ll work on that)!

I said, “Yeah, you need both eyes for depth perception, so that wouldn’t be very safe.”

Suddenly one of the boys, exclaimed “Mrs. Bonilla, try to put your two index fingers together in front of you like this,” as he demonstrated.

I followed his example (which now that I think about it is basically the sobriety test motion!) and my right finger overlapped my left instead of meeting at each of the tips. The boys all kind of gasped. I said, “Did you see that? Yeah, it’s hard to gauge depth with only one eye.”

The same student who asked me to try this test, called out “Everyone! Close one eye and try to do it!” They all obeyed his command (this kid has a lot of charisma!) and each one had the same experience of one finger being further in front and overlapping as they tried to put their fingertips together.

“Whoa!” they exclaimed as they looked at me with surprise and understanding.

“Wow, guys, I feel so seen!” I replied.

We then moved on to start our class, but this moment has stuck with me ever since. I meant exactly what I said – I felt seen. I felt understood and their attempt to relate to my experience meant so much to me. Since I’ve been dealing with this challenge all school year, I talk about it seldomly because it’s a downer and honestly, I do better when I just focus on the moment while teaching in the classroom rather than thinking about my vision.

But it has been hard and at times distracting. I feel vulnerable a lot of the time, especially when I’m unable to do something I want to do like drive for a field trip or play House volleyball! Experiencing their compassion and acknowledgement that I’m dealing with a challenging circumstance meant the world to me.

Diabetes, My Awakening, Uncategorized

Vulnerability & Mindfully Slowing Down

kelseybonilla

There’s a quote commonly attributed to Kierkegaard that goes: “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” In other words, we don’t know what the future holds and we make decisions based on the information we have at the time.

When I wrote that post about not knowing the future back in mid-July, I fully expected to be able to see out of my left eye by now. In God’s good provision, he doesn’t let us know when we have a long ordeal ahead of us. We just have to live with the current reality and hope that things will improve.

When I saw my doctor for a follow-up about six weeks after my vitrectomy, he said “I would have expected the blood to have cleared by now, but it certainly hasn’t.” He did another ultrasound on my eye to check the retina, which looks good. He then comforted me by saying, “The blood isn’t hurting anything in your eye. I mean, other than you can’t see out of it.” It’s almost funny. Almost.

I knew deep down that the only next step was going to be an injection in my eye. Sure enough, that was his recommendation. The ironic thing is I had the surgery (which included more laser treatment and an injection) so I would be sedated and not cognizant of the needle going into my eye! Since we’d had many conversations about my needle phobia, my doctor advised that I get a Valium prescription from my GP and come back in a week for the injection.

As Dennis and I sat together in the doctor’s office, I felt so motivated to get the injection in hopes of restoring my vision that I almost told the doctor I could do it. But, honestly, I don’t think he would have let me based on prior conversations. Instead, I felt this calm, peaceful feeling descend on me as I imagined having the injection and conquering this fear (with some medicinal assistance!). It occurred to me that injections may be required to preserve my vision as I continue to live with retinopathy; not unlike accepting the need for injections of insulin when I was first diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes all those years ago.

A week of prayer accompanied a deepening sense of acceptance as I let myself imagine the injection and experienced less and less anxiety. I came home from pre-planning meetings at school on Thursday, the 22nd so Dennis could drive me to the appointment, since I’m still not driving on the freeways. When I came in the door, Dennis announced that Sienna and Mateo wanted to go with us, for moral support. I was moved that they wanted to be there (even just in the waiting room) while their mom conquered a fear. They have been very compassionate and supportive during this entire recovery period, so having them come along felt comforting for me.

There’s always a long ramp up to any eye procedure as they take images, dilate your eye(s), and then you wait for the doctor for a while. Dennis and I chatted while we marveled at the fact that I didn’t feel nervous. I was fully alert and aware of what was going to happen, without anxiety. Valium did its job! The injection was quick, and I felt okay, until the doctor said “Okay, it’s done” at which point I started to get lightheaded like I might pass out. Thankfully, the feeling passed pretty fast, and I felt such relief that I got the injection!

It’s been over a week since the injection, and I haven’t noticed any significant improvement in my vision. There’s some change in what I’m seeing in my left eye (a bit more light coming through) so I’m grateful for some progress. But, what’s mostly changing is my level of acceptance. Instead of focusing on what I’m missing right now, I’m prayerfully, mindfully focused on the new school year beginning and soaking up these moments of growth and transition with my children and my students.

I’m also trying to intentionally slow down and be present in the moment. Not seeing in one eye means that I can’t see what’s on my left side unless I turn my body to check. Last weekend my House had a beach clean-up event in the morning at La Jolla Shores. Being the last Saturday of summer, it was packed! Just before we left, I was down by the surf talking to a parent when one of the House Leaders called my name. I turned to talk to her, took one step forward, and a man on his cell phone (looking down and distracted) smashed into my left side. I wanted to burst into tears but was able to hold off for a few minutes to make a gracious exit. I felt so vulnerable.

Now, school has started, and we just returned from the House Retreat, which was fun and memorable, especially for my House who won the House Retreat Cup! The first week of school included a lovely opening convocation, Vocatio breakfast, and bonding with my students on the first day. All the normal parts of a school year beginning, and I felt largely present and engaged. But I still can’t see well. I still feel vulnerable often. My sweet fellow teachers were mindful of supporting me on the retreat, particularly since it was my first as Housemaster, so my responsibilities were constant. As I lay down to sleep on Thursday night, I thanked God for my safety and that of all our students at the retreat.

This condition has made the concept of “taking one day at a time” quite necessary. I’ve also tried to embrace the idea of really slowing down to intentionally move through space. Gripping handrails on stairs, watching my feet as I walk on mountain trials, trying not to multitask so I won’t get distracted and collide with something! There is goodness to be found in ceasing striving to do it all.

Diabetes, Home and Family, My Awakening, Uncategorized

I Don’t Know the Future… and that’s Okay.

kelseybonilla

As I’m typing this, I’m trying to keep my hood over my left eye as much as possible so I can see relatively clearly. I’m five days out from an eye surgery called a vitrectomy. Almost two years to the day after my first disruptive vessel bleed caused by diabetic retinopathy, this surgery was another step in the process of treating this complication from living with Type 1 Diabetes for over 30 years.

If you’ve read this blog on and off, (particularly back before I started teaching and my writing time took a significant nose dive!) you’ll know that I went through a personal process of emotional growth back in 2013. Learning to trust God, let go of control, feel my feelings, and be present in the moment were the lessons I needed to learn and life was infinitely more fulfilling, joyful, and connective afterwards. One of the takeaways I’ve relearned again and again is that I really don’t know what the future holds. I used to plan excessively because it helped me to feel in control, especially of my feelings of anxiety. Learning to let go of that illusion of control, trusting God to lead my steps and provide his gifts has given me a deep sense of freedom and delight.

After a busy school year, the last several weeks have given me time to slow down. I’ve been acutely aware that I don’t know what the next experience will be like, both in surprisingly good and frustrating ways.

Our adventure to the Higher Things Conference in Wisconsin was so rewarding and fun! Everything about this experience was new for me and the youth from our church. We literally didn’t know where or what we would eat on campus for the first few meals (flying from California, we arrived 24 hours before the first conference meal was served!). Fortunately, a semipro baseball team, the Lakeshore Chinooks, were playing a game right by our dorms, just after we arrived. We made the spontaneous decision to eat at the game and enjoyed a delightful Midwest summer night at the ballpark!

From the divine services to the breakaway sessions, so many wonderful, gospel messages were shared during the retreat. The girls bonded and stayed up way too late each night talking, the boys got a chance to exercise their independence and navigate the campus on their own, and I took many long walks along Lake Michigan soaking in the stillness and beauty of God’s creation. I also marveled at how quickly people adapt to their new surroundings. From the dorm accommodations to the labyrinth like campus tunnels, to the rhythm of meals and activities; what felt unfamiliar became routine and comfortable in just a few short days. My feelings ebbed and flowed all throughout the trip to Wisconsin and trusting God made it possible for me to accept and appreciate the transformation.

My eye surgery was scheduled for exactly one week after we returned from Higher Things. Going into the procedure, I was mostly praying for peace and calm nerves. I have a history of fainting when getting an IV placed, so that was foremost in my mind. My doctor and I had agreed on general anesthesia (which I’ve had before), so I felt okay about that part. Dennis drove me to the Shiley Eye Center at UCSD and waited there with me before the surgery. I had a wonderful prep nurse named Ana who gently asked “So, you don’t have any trouble with needles, right?” as she prepared the IV. I’m sure she assumed that after 30+ years of diabetes, I was immune to needles. “Actually, I’ve had a phobia of needles for years and have a history of fainting,” I replied.

She proceeded to prep my right hand for the IV. This process always takes awhile because I have extremely small, rolling, and seemingly invisible veins. It took her awhile to identify a vein, but she didn’t make a big deal of it and I just chatted with Dennis about random memories from childbirth (hospitals always bring those memories flooding back!). She got the IV on the first stick while I breathed deeply and DID NOT faint! First hurdle passed!

Then, the anesthesiologist came in to talk with me. I totally didn’t catch his name. He explained that they weren’t going to put me totally under (read: not getting general anesthesia) due to the nature of the surgery, noting that if they could sedate me without having to put me on a ventilator, that was obviously preferable. He then explained that they’d inject a “block” by my eye and that’s “the only place you’ll feel pain…” At which point tears started to flow. “Wait, I thought I was having general anesthesia,” I said quietly. He then clarified, “Oh, you’re going to experience exactly the same thing as if you were fully under.” Okay. At this point, I tried to calm down and pray. I really had no choice but to trust God and the doctors. It’s not so much the pain I feared but being conscious of what was happening and then fainting. As it turns out, I was completely unconscious about one minute after he injected the sedation medication into my IV! They wheeled me out the double doors to the OR and that’s the last thing I remembered before they woke me up in recovery.

It’s been an enlightening process of acceptance dealing with my vision post-op. I don’t know what I was expecting but it’s definitely more challenging than I anticipated. When they said my vision would be blurry for a week or two, I didn’t realize that meant that I wouldn’t be able to see at all out of my left eye. True, with one functioning eye, my overall vision is blurry, but it’s quite distracting and hard to focus with that degree of blurriness. Basically, there’s an air bubble in my left eye where the vitreous was removed, which I can see slowly moving down in my vision. I can’t see anything else though. One benefit of dealing with persistent, intermittent floaters in my left eye for the past two years, is that I learned that covering that eye completely eliminates the issue. So, after they removed the patch at the post-op appointment the day after surgery, and I realized how disabling my vision was, I had to figured out a way to cope. Fortunately I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. The solution really took care of itself! So, for the past few days, I’ve been able to watch a lot of Wimbledon matches, read for both school and pleasure, and watch Christmas Hallmark movies for our annual “Christmas in July” tradition, all my covering my left eye with a hood.

I’ve certainly had my moments of frustration over the past week. I already miss running and I don’t know how long it’ll be until I’m cleared to resume running or my usual level of activity. But, acceptance that I don’t know the future is helping me stay in the moment. I didn’t know the joy that awaited us in Wisconsin. I didn’t know precisely the challenges that surgery and the post-op experience would bring. I don’t know how quickly my vision will improve. But, I’m okay. My family is taking good care of me and I’m extremely grateful for a family culture that allows for a lot of sitting around, reading, talking, being creative, watching sports, and just vegging.

Thank you for your support on this journey…

Diabetes

30 Years.

kelseybonilla

Yesterday I celebrated living with Type 1 Diabetes for 30 years. A milestone anniversary for a chronic disease may seem like an odd thing to celebrate. But, it’s a testament to the power of reframing to intentionally take time to celebrate that I’ve lived well for three decades with this disease, one that they said would be cured in 5 years back when I was diagnosed in 1993!

My family has grown accustomed to my “diabetes anniversaries” since I self-proclaim them every year. So, I received phone calls, flowers, and many “Happy Anniversary!” declarations from my loved ones!

I decided that 30 years should be set aside more specifically so we planned to be up at our family ranch for an entire day by the pool, reading, relaxing, and being together. Last week I said to Dennis, Sienna, and Mateo: “It may be presumptuous to assume my diabetes means anything to you… but for my anniversary can we just talk about my diabetes? I’m curious how it impacts you, how you feel about it, that kind of thing.” They all agreed to think about it. Bless them!

At dinner time, we started to talk about diabetes and Dennis jumped right in by saying he’s always been impressed with my attitude and ability to take care of my diabetes rather than to fight it. The kids similarly echoed that they feel like I manage it so well that sometimes they forget I’m even dealing with it. It sort of felt like I was fishing for compliments! But, they were sweet and sincere. Sienna said that she and Teo have only ever known having a mom with diabetes, so it’s just normal to them. Perspective.

When I try to put into words what 30 years of living with Type 1 Diabetes means to me, I struggle. It’s been a constant companion through so much of my life. I never doubted that I’d live a normal life, which may be partly because of the blind optimism that characterizes my outlook on life!

It certainly hasn’t been easy and managing diabetes has changed with the seasons of life. My teenage years involved a lot of highs and lows (both emotionally and blood sugar-wise!). I have memories of sitting down in the kitchen of my childhood home, eating excessively to correct a nighttime low in my late teens. Then in college, the biggest scare came in the summer after my freshman year when I experienced my one and only episode of diabetic ketoacidosis and was hospitalized with a Ph level “not compatible with life”. That was a wake-up call at age 19 that diabetes was serious and I had to pay much better attention.

Having healthy children after managing my blood sugar extremely tightly for at least a year is perhaps the accomplishment I’m most proud of. It brings tears to my eyes to remember the focus, devotion, and utter joy I felt during those seasons. It says a lot about my personality that I loved the rigor of logging my blood sugars and testing 12-15 times per day to achieve better than normal blood sugars during my pregnancies! My A1C in the middle of Sienna’s pregnancy was 5.0% which is lower than a non-diabetic! Oh, how I loved receiving those gold stars!

However, it wasn’t all unicorns and rainbows… when Mateo was born at 9 pounds, 1 ounce, he was considered a “big baby” and his blood sugar was low at birth. These are both common issues for babies of diabetics, which was reiterated to me over and over when he went to the NICU. The nurses and doctors continually referred to him as a “diabetic baby” which was like a dagger to my heart each time. I felt like I’d failed this time around, since Sienna didn’t deal with these complications. In the end, the hospital was being overly cautious in keeping him in the NICU for a week when he was strong and healthy. We like to tell Teo that, since he was so much bigger than the other babies in the NICU, it “looked like he ate the other babies!”.

A few years after Teo was born I took a break from wearing an insulin pump because I was tired of being tethered to it all the time. My inclination towards order and routine serves me well and I happen to not need very much insulin, so using multiple daily injections (MDI) works for me. One of the blessings of having diabetes in this day and age is the many options for managing blood sugar. I’ve liked the ability to change up my management to reinvigorate my focus and motivation.

About a year ago, I had a huge mental breakthrough with how to interpret the data from my Dexcom continuous glucose monitor (CGM). I’ve worn it consistently ever since and it really has helped me manage my blood sugar more easily. My family can attest that I still have moments when stubborn highs frustrate me and trigger feelings of failure, but they are few and far between.

Currently, I’m in the process of getting back on an insulin pump. The new technology involves integration with the CGM to provide a “closed loop” of sorts, which allows the pump to correct highs and prevent some lows by automatically giving a correction dose or reducing the basal rate based on the CGM data. I’m mostly looking for this to help with overnight highs that are more difficult to manage with injections. I’ll write more about this system as I transition to it, because I imagine it will trigger a lot of emotional challenges as I release “control” to the pump.

This milestone of 30 years of diabetes has passed and I woke up today to manage my diabetes again. It’s always there. My blood sugar always needs to be considered. There really is no day off from diabetes. But, for all the strife and struggle its brought to my life, it’s also encouraged me to each healthfully, exercise regularly, and generally prioritize my health. My feelings toward diabetes are complicated and really span the entire spectrum of emotions. There are times its a source of pride and accomplishment, times I hate it for all the hassle and feelings of failure it triggers, and many times when its just there, quietly running in the background, not causing any particular feelings.

Now I’m off to live my life, with diabetes just along for the ride.

Diabetes

Wait and See

kelseybonilla

As you may know, I’m a recovering perfectionist. Often “recovering” looks like slipping back into old patterns and then praying and accepting my way back to a place of surrendering and peace. I sometimes ponder which came first (as in “the chicken or the egg”), my desire for control or my diabetes. When you have diabetes, the hallmark of good care is “well-controlled blood sugars”. Truly, there couldn’t be a higher virtue than “control” in diabetes management.

Over the years I’ve used a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) several times. As I’ve discussed with my endocrinologist on countless occasions, the constant information on my blood sugar often felt overwhelming. I felt like I was riding a blood sugar roller coaster on days I used a CGM. Over the years, I realized that the issue wasn’t the information, but how I processed it. Psychologically, seeing a high blood sugar after a meal would prompt me to correct with insulin, even if I’d just given an injection an hour earlier. I couldn’t handle seeing the high blood sugar (and the feelings of failure it triggered) for an hour or so while my meal bolus brought my blood sugar down.

What happened when I stacked two injections close together? My blood sugar would plummet and I’d have to consume more carbohydrates to raise it. I’d then monitor the CGM data carefully for the rebounding high, which I’d then aggressively respond to with more insulin. See how the roller coaster feeling arose?!

In contrast, with finger stick blood sugar monitoring, my blood sugar might rise between meals, but I wouldn’t see that information until I tested a few hours later, so I wasn’t triggered to give extra correction doses. The downside? High blood sugars wouldn’t be detected for a few hours. Also, I couldn’t anticipate low blood sugars unless I became symptomatic.

As I’ve dealt with retinopathy the past few years, my desire to keep my blood sugar even more tightly controlled grew. I knew that the Dexcom provided the best standard of care for diabetes but was tentative to try again. So, I prayed for peace and a renewed understanding for how to interpret and respond to CGM information.

A couple months ago, I had one demo Dexcom sensor handy and decided to wear it for 10 days. Something finally clicked. I was able to receive the continuous glucose readings without overreacting to the information! Somehow my years of experience and awareness of how my body responded to food, insulin, exercise, etc. comingled with the continuous stream of blood sugars. I was able to watch the trends, allow for a reasonable “turnaround time” and wait (somewhat patiently) for highs and lows to return to range.

The timing of this breakthrough was fortuitous. Dealing with retinopathy impressed upon me how important tightly controlled blood sugars would be for my long-term health. With the CGM information, I could correct highs more quickly and keep my blood sugar “in range” more consistently. It’s not inexpensive, but again the benefits for my health and quality-of-life in the future makes the investment more than worth it.

As the weeks turned into months, I noticed a side effect of using the Dexcom. My cell phone was always within arm’s reach! The data is available through an app, which is obviously more convenient that using a separate receiver. However, once the phone was in my hand, I reflexively checked my email, instant messages, and social media much more than I’d like.

So, last week I got an Apple Watch so my blood sugars are constantly available right on my wrist! I’m being diligent not to start using other tracking features of the watch, because I know from experience that they are triggers for my performance orientation. When I start tracking things like the amount of water I drink or walking 10k steps a day, I feel like a robot ticking off all the “to do” items from my daily list.

But, it’s nice to glance down and see my blood sugar level and trend arrow without having to pick up my phone. I imagine it’ll be very helpful during classes! It’s funny how this constant stream of information used to feel overwhelming and burdensome, but now it feels freeing. The trick is constantly reminding myself, “wait and see what happens” before reacting to a potential high or low. Just because my blood sugar is 110 mg/dl and dropping right now doesn’t mean I’m headed for a low that I need to preempt. Likewise, a 160 mg/dl and climbing may not need intervention, depending on the timing of my last meal, when I’m planning to exercise, etc.

Over the years, “wait and see” has been a helpful reminder to stay in the moment instead of trying to control my future feelings. Just because my mind is telling me that I should act now to avoid feeling something unpleasant in the future, in reality I can “wait and see” how I feel in the moment, when it arrives. This life strategy only really works when you know that you can trust God for his grace and provision in all the moments of life, especially when things are out of control.

Diabetes

The gift of acceptance.

kelseybonilla

Last month was the 29th anniversary of my Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis. As each year goes by my feelings about “celebrating” or just acknowledging this anniversary changes. It used to be a source of pride, as in “Look how well I’ve lived with diabetes for 15 years… 20 years… etc.” But, as I’ve been dealing with my first diabetes complication for the past couple years, the reality of longevity with this disease feels more daunting.

About a month ago my doctor examined my eyes and indicated that more laser treatment was needed, particularly in my left eye. He discovered more vessels in my retinas that were starting to or would likely bleed. Based on my prior experience, the treatment wasn’t urgent so I confirmed with my doctor that it was okay to schedule the laser treatment after we returned from vacation.

Well, turns out that wasn’t the best decision.

On the evening of July 5th I started to notice some floaters in my left eye. It was late and I was hopeful they’d improve overnight. Instead, the next morning my vision was very blurry due to a large amoeba shaped floater just in my left eye. We had a beautiful hike planned in Fern Canyon that day, so we headed out there as I awaited a response from my doctor regarding the urgency of examining my eye. It seemed obvious that one of the vessels had bleed, but I was 800 miles away from my doctor and didn’t know the severity of the situation.

When we got back to cell phone range around 4:00 p.m., I was able to schedule an appointment for 2:00 p.m. the next day. Fortunately, we’d packed up the kids for their stay with my mom that morning. So, everything they needed was in McKinleyville, whereas Dennis and my things were still at the ranch. We huddled as a family and decided Dennis and I would drive home right then, while the kids remained with our family in Humboldt. We’d coordinate a plan to retrieve them later.

When challenges arise in life, it’s so comforting to have the support and care of people who love you. Dennis had a wonderful attitude as we embraced the 10 hour drive that night, arriving just north of the Grapevine (along Interstate 5, for the uninitiated), at 2:45 a.m. We listened to classic rock and enjoyed the drive, just the two of us. After five hours in the hotel we were back on the road to San Diego, in plenty of time for my appointment.

I fully expected the doctor to do the laser treatment after he examined my eyes. So, I was really, really disappointed when he explained that the blood in my left eye was blocking the retina, making it impossible to laser the vessels accurately. I’d have to wait for the blood to reabsorb or dissipate before treating the left eye. We’d go ahead and treat the right eye fully, as planned.

“What do you do for exercise?” the doctor asked. “Oh, run. I’m a runner.” I replied.

“You shouldn’t run until we can treat the left eye. Those vessels are fragile and the pounding from running could cause more bleeds.”

“Okay,” I replied. Internally my mind said, “No!!! Don’t take my running from me!”

Many, many tears were cried that afternoon. As I sobbed into Dennis’s shoulder in the waiting room and again, later at home, I mourned the loss of running and anticipated weeks or months of this annoying obstructed vision. How would I get all my summer reading and school prep done? Why did this have to cut our vacation short? What would I do without my weekly long run? How would coaching cross country this fall work if I couldn’t run by then?

It’s been five weeks since that day. Today is my follow-up appointment. Originally, I expected we’d be able to do the laser treatment today. However, as I’ve done some research and lived with diabetic macular edema (that’s the technical term) for over a month, I don’t anticipate he’ll be able to treat it yet. The floater has moved up in my vision, which means it’s moving down in my eye, and it’s gotten a bit fainter. But, it doesn’t seem to have changed enough to be out of the way for the laser treatment. I’m praying I’m wrong, but not having high expectations for a resolution today.

Instead, I’m marveling at the gift of acceptance.

I’ve prayed a lot about this situation and God had faithfully come alongside to remind me that freedom comes from surrendering. Instead of saying “this is driving me crazy!” as I did the first couple days, I’ve had to accept that there’s a weird amoeba shaped image floating around in my left eye. I’m able to read, study, drive, watch TV, and basically do everything I’m used to doing. Well, except run. We rejoined the YMCA so I’ve been swimming and using the machines at the gym. They have a cool elliptical machine where you can vary your stride length and actually mimic running really well. I love it!

Each day my eye bothers me less and less. It’s been like a mindfulness exercise. My accepting it’s there but recognizing I don’t need to pay attention to it, I am able to basically ignore it for long periods of time. When I become conscious of it again, I just think, “Oh, there’s that floater” and put my attention back on what I’m doing in the moment.

I’ve figured out little coping strategies. For example, bright lights make it worse, so I’ve been wearing my sunglasses inside brightly lit places. We went to the Giants/Padres game this week with my Dad and Moni, so I kept my sunglasses on for most of the game, until it got hard to see!

Dennis and I were home for a few days after the eye appointment. As I realized that my eye condition wasn’t going to improve anytime soon, it seemed silly to miss the fun with our family up in Humboldt. So, our amazing dog sitter agreed to come back and we made the return trip in 13 hours of driving, starting early on a Tuesday morning. It was a lot of extra driving for only five days, but they were very fun and special days! Dennis and I enjoyed some sunshine and swimming at the ranch, celebrated our nephew’s 12th birthday with a big family party, and got to connect with our sweet family who took wonderful care of Sienna and Mateo.

Even though our summer trip didn’t turn out as expected, in some ways it was better. In our original plan, Dennis was going to fly home early to relieve the dog sitter so the two of us enjoyed time alone together, which is always precious. I came to be “in the moment” more deeply after surrendering and accepting my vision issues. It’s amazing how much more present and connected I feel when I stop striving to control my feelings. Letting myself really mourn the situation and feel the disappointment of it was so important. I had a session with my counselor on the Monday afternoon before we drove back to Humboldt. She helped me sit with the sadness and truly feel it.

Life is hard. It throws us curveballs all the time. I feel like God is working to deepen my acceptance of all emotions. There’s such grace and peace in surrendering and allowing yourself to feel what you feel.

Diabetes

My Constant Companion for 28 Years

kelseybonilla

Today is the 28th anniversary of my diagnosis with Type 1 Diabetes. Thanks to Facebook, I had the opportunity to review my many postings each July 27th over the past ten years. Exactly a decade ago I celebrated 18 years of living with diabetes and shared my joy of being complication free. Today at 28 years, I’ve now dealt with my first complication: diabetic retinopathy. Though difficult at times, I’m now familiar with the laser treatment and it’s not so scary.

Diabetes is a constant companion in my daily life. Whatever else is going on, each day I test my blood about ten times, deliver an injection of long-acting insulin, calculate and inject fast-acting insulin for meals, and gauge my activities from exercise to water consumption based on blood sugar management needs.

Fortunately, I tend to enjoy routine (and diabetes loves routine!). Also, I’ve long ago resigned myself to eating healthfully and enduring the blood sugar results when I choose to indulge! So, while diabetes is relentless in its presence, I don’t find it particularly bothersome. Most of the time.

So, on this anniversary, I’m going to focus on my precious life as I celebrate that diabetes hasn’t adversely impacted in (much) over the past 28 years.

I’ve been in a huge period of transition the past couple months! My last day at CBIZ was June 11th and my family promptly hit the road for our annual Northern California trip just two days later. Dennis, me, Sienna, and Mateo left our sweet dog Claira in the care of neighbors and drove up to Dennis’s hometown of Marysville first. We spent a few days relaxing with family and our dear friend John, including a fun day in Old Town Sacramento before the high heat hit. Next we spent two nights at my cousin Pam’s horse ranch in the Sierra Nevada foothills. It’s was lovely to visit and get the kids on horses, even though the heat was oppressive! Finally, we traded the hot temperatures for Humboldt fog as we enjoyed a couple weeks with my family. Dennis and I spent most of the trip at our family ranch, making daytrips into town for activities.

Having this prolonged trip away provided a great transition period for me to adjust to life without a corporate job and time to embrace my new vocation as student and teacher. For the first week or so, I experienced this nagging feeling that there was something on my phone I needed to check. I realized that it was my old CBIZ email that was giving me these phantom pangs of responsibility. Instead of responding to inquiries and solving a seemingly endless string of management issues, my job was now to read a huge stack of historical texts.

While on vacation at the ranch, I got to finish a book on the Byzantine empire and start one on the Peloponnesian War while sitting by the pool. “I can’t believe this is my job right now!” I kept exclaiming to Dennis who lovingly sat beside me with a book for hours at a time. During this season we also enjoyed watching our Phoenix Suns in the NBA playoffs. They had a great run which was really fun for us!

Back home, I’ve been able to embrace my scholarly life and am learning the rhythms of my body (i.e. reading between 4:00 pm and 6:00 pm is impossible!) so I can structure my days efficiently. Dennis and I had about 10 days at home sans children as Sienna and Mateo stayed up in Humboldt with family before my mom (aka Gaga) brought them home in the middle of July. During that stretch, we had a lovely ladies reunion with my friend Melinda and I got a lot of studying done. When Gaga and the kids got back, we had fun shopping for “school clothes” for me and exploring San Diego in the summer time between study sessions. Next week starts full-time training on campus and I’m so excited to dig in!

Several years ago, I realized that one thing I never prayed about was my diabetes. I quickly changed that and started praying for God’s wisdom and guidance when blood sugar management became overwhelming. Through God’s grace in teaching me acceptance, my perspective on diabetes has become more flexible. I can see how routines and habits can be helpful for a season and then need to be adjusted as life or my body changes. I expect there will be some diabetes routine tweaks in order as the school years begins and my daily life looks different.

Sienna asked me the other day if I would tell my students about my diabetes. I paused, since I hadn’t considered it at all yet. Considering my desire to be open and transparent I replied, “Yes, I definitely will”. I want to be authentically present to my students and diabetes has been a part of me for 28 years.

Diabetes is a constant companion and it will be along for the ride as I start this next chapter of life.

Diabetes, Uncategorized

26 Years

kelseybonilla

Today is the 26th anniversary of the day I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.  Every year I mark this day on the calendar and anticipate it.  It may seem odd to “celebrate” such a tragic day in my life.  But, I see it as a time to reflect on the years I’ve spent managing this disease and give thanks for being healthy and (knock on wood) complication free after all these years.

I recently stopped using an insulin pump and returned to injections.  There wasn’t one big catalyst for this change.  My pump warranty expired several months ago and my insurance company has made a special deal with one particular pump company that I refuse to use.  I researched other pumps, but didn’t feel drawn to any of them.  I’ve been pumping for over five years, after taking a three year break when Teo was born.  I was tired of being tethered to the pump.

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One of the big virtues of pumping insulin is the ability to make small tweaks throughout the day by bolusing (delivering insulin) with the touch of a couple buttons.  The thing is, this makes it really easy to snack all throughout the day or overeat.  For example, tortilla chips at a party.  If I ended up eating more than originally planned, I can just keep delivering insulin to cover them.  I felt ready to be more intentional about my eating and injection insulin would make that a necessity.

Last time I used long acting insulin to cover my basal needs, the best option was Lantus.  I assumed that’s what I’d be using again.  But, my medical team advised that I use a newer insulin called Tresiba.  They explained that it lasts longer than 24 hours so you don’t have to be as precise about dose timing.  Also, it takes a few days to “build up” in your system to work at full capacity.

The first day of injections, my blood sugars ran high ALL day.  I was injecting fast acting insulin constantly.  It was very frustrating, but I remembered the advice about Tresiba and talked myself down.  It was such an opportunity to practice letting go of my need for control and recognizing that change and transition are going to bring emotional upheaval!  By the third day, my blood sugars ran low as the Tresbia was fully functional and I’d quickly become accustomed to bolusing extra insulin for meals.  Eventually it all leveled out and I got the hang of it.

Diabetes has had such a huge impact on my life.  When my blood sugars are high or low, it receives a lot of my mental and emotional energy.  Each time I test my blood sugar or check my continuous glucose monitoring system, the result potentially impacts my emotional state.  A “good” number (typically 80 – 160) is met with satisfaction and contentment.  Whereas a “bad” number (anything outside 80 – 160) can trigger guilt, frustration, and anger.

I sometimes ponder what came first, my desire for order and control (aka perfectionism) or Type 1 Diabetes…?  They have certainly developed simultaneously in my life.  Diabetes provides circumstances that exacerbate my desire for control.  That’s even what they extol as the great virtue of diabetes management: being under control!  However, diabetes also provides many daily opportunities to let go of perfectionism and reject the judgments of personal worth based on the current data point of my blood sugar.

While diabetes can be very demanding, there are many times when it hums along in the background of my consciousness and doesn’t demand much attention.  It can be like time in that regard, while always present, it can also slip by without notice for periods.  Speaking of time, when I was diagnosed doctors said diabetes would be cured in five years.  That was 21 years ago.  While technology has made diabetes much easier to live with and manage, a true cure is not something I anticipate or hope for in my lifetime.  I’m sure they’ll figure out the artificial pancreas or closed-loop system at some point.

I’ve come to realize that managing diabetes will look different throughout my lifetime.    Diabetes management could involve pumping insulin, using injections, manual blood sugar testing or wearing a CGM.  Lots of ways to accomplish the same thing: know what your blood sugar is and decide how much insulin you need.  I’m not going to master one way of managing diabetes and use it forever.  Life isn’t like that, we change, grow and adapt.  This is one of the lessons that diabetes has helped me learn.

Diabetes, Uncategorized

Diabetes Blog Week – Day 5

kelseybonilla

It has felt reflective and familiar to write about diabetes this week.  Although I don’t ever get a break from living with diabetes, I’ve taken a pretty long break from regularly writing about it!  For several years I wrote about diabetes for HealthCentral and chronicled both of my pregnancies.  It was my first experience with blogging and very rewarding!

Today’s prompt is: Lets wrap up the week by sharing a little more about ourselves, beyond the chronic illness we or our loved ones live with.  Share an interest, hobby, passion, something that is YOU.  If you want to explore how it relates to or helps with diabetes you can.   Or let it be a part of you that is completely separate from diabetes, because there is more to life than just diabetes!

The thing that’s most important to me is my faith in God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Embracing my own sinfulness and need for a savior has helped me to mindfully surrender to God’s perfect will, more often.  A few years ago, I realized that diabetes was one of the only things that I didn’t take to God in prayer.  I’d pray for my loved ones, for peace, for wisdom and insight, for guidance, for the healing of others, and so many other things.  But, praying for help managing my blood sugar?  Nope, never.  It was like this little segment of my life that I was supposed to control on my own.

Control is something I struggle with and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the hallmark of this disease I have is “good control”.   Being able to plan ahead, take note of variables, and make decisions on food and insulin all come together to help me keep my blood sugar under control.  When I’m feeling the need for a sense of “control” in my life, I tend to turn away from God.  I stop surrendering and start relying on myself.  I will plan incessantly and start to feel like my own efforts are keeping everything manageable.

When I first realized this disconnect and tried praying about my diet choices and diabetes management, it felt like such a relief!  Letting go of this need for perfection and having “it all figured out” in other areas of my life then flowed to diabetes as I began asking for guidance in managing my blood sugar.