Diabetic Alert Cat?

Why is Dad scratching at the door like a goofball?  And why hasn’t he given up yet?  I’m so tired!, I mused, finally rousing from bed.

My body moved through hypoglycemia-induced-quicksand as I turned the doorknob.  Much to my surprise, Tootsie, our 12-year-old cat, was the actual visitor.  This was not a prank from a human family member.  In fact, this was not a drill.  My blood sugar had been hovering quite low for an extended period of time.  Tootsie knocked in her own way, and, thankfully, she snapped me out of a deep sleep to answer.


I gulped down some fruit juice from the ever-present nightstand bottle and crawled back into bed.  Although I am allergic to Tootsie and she usually detests venturing to the second floor of my family’s home on Cape Cod, here she was- settling in to keep watch.


She knows.  She knows I’m low!, I realized.

As a child, whenever I would wake up in the middle of the night plagued by nausea, I begged my mother to sleep at the foot of my bed.  Don’t talk to me.  Don’t touch me.  Don’t do anything.  But please just stay with me.  Mom obliged and kept her guard post until I drifted back to sleep.

Tootsie got the same memo.  Normally, she would be purring and climbing all over me; but she now understood that the best way one can support a friend during a hypoglycemic event is to simply be a present observer in the moment.


Continuous glucose monitors and mg/dL readings and Humalog are all foreign things to Tootsie.  She may or may not have identified the low blood sugar scent that alert animals are trained to pick up.  Whatever the problem may have been, Tootsie seemed to know that something was wrong.  She persisted in her attempts to alert me to the issue.  Tootsie did the right thing, and she stayed the course.

Perhaps the human side of healthcare can learn a thing or two from a cat’s display of empathy?

Food for thought…  Pass the Meow Mix.


Tequila Shots?!

Okay, Lantus shots.  Almost as much fun, right?

Many thanks to Jeremy of for his insightful piece on various insulin pump and insulin injections perspectives.  I found it therapeutic to reflect on my journey from shots to pumps and back to shots again.  You can read Jeremy’s blog profiling some #doc viewpoints here.






Platforms of Courage

“One who has passed away from earth life has said,

‘Kind words and liberal estimates and generous acknowledgements, and ready appreciation, unselfish delight in the excellence of others, these are the best signs of a large intellect and a noble spirit.  To be true, to be loving is the secret of Christian growth.'”

A few weeks shy of Stanford Medicine X (#MedX) 2016, I bawled into my coffee mug, deeply moved by Mrs. Jane Lathrop Stanford’s words.

My time at the Cantor Arts Center at Stanford University, as well as our MedX ePatient delegate newsletter, taught me more about the Stanfords.  They were a prominent family involved in politics and the railroad business in the late 1800s.  The Stanfords’ son, Leland, Jr., was a curator who passed away from typhoid as a teenager.


To honor their child’s memory and love of learning, the Stanfords founded Stanford University in 1891.  Mrs. Stanford composed a heartfelt speech commemorating the event, which I encourage you to read in its entirety here.

For me, the most striking aspect of Mrs. Stanford’s speech was her handwritten note after-the-fact of the inaugural celebration: “Not read as expected as I did not have the courage on that opening day of the University- so important in our lives.”  She signed and dated the note Oct. 1891.

As I publish this blog post in Oct. 2016, I am cognizant of the poetic symbolism that makes my undergrad English major heart flutter.  Firstly, I admire Mrs. Stanford for being an outspoken, successful woman in the time in which she lived.  But I respectfully disagree that she “did not have the courage on that opening day.”  The anxiety, perhaps?  Yet the very act of voicing that anxiety in her notes, in the 1890s nevertheless, is an example of bravery.

Courage was surely present in Mrs. Stanford. Courage molded something out of grief and loss, creating a topnotch university where disease is studied and tamed, where support abounds to this very day so perhaps others are spared the pain that the Stanfords endured.

As a type 1 diabetic for almost 26 years, I, too, have searched for a greater purpose in community despite health woes.  Stanford Medicine X is a good place to start.  For instance, while my continuous glucose monitor (CGM) alerted to high levels of glucose in my blood, Sophie Thacher’s simultaneously sounded off to an urgent low.  We are both type 1 diabetics, connected deeply by our friendship and our willingness to work through the challenging moment together, rather than run from it.

#DOC (diabetic online community) at #MedX love!

Whether attending the conference as advocates, pharmaceutical innovators, healthcare providers, tech developers, students, and so on, #MedX reminds us that healthcare is a human story first and foremost.  Here, you will find everyone included™.

With Yoko Sen’s calming voice as our guide, we pondered aloud the last sounds we would like to hear before we die.  The Ignite! talks of recently-dubbed MedX Scholars such as Danielle Cosgrove, Jeri Burtchell, Liz Salmi, and Terry Marlin moved us to tears.

We found joy in the coffee break conversations, too- with compassionate leaders like Dr. Bonnie Feldman, who understands firsthand why those of us with autoimmune disease want to safeguard future generations from our conditions.

We shared cocktails, laughter, and inside joke swear words with Elizabeth Jameson and her caretakers, Sheri and Catherine.  This dynamic healthcare team is the epitome of grace, resilience, and love.  I will carry your example in my heart forever.


Rockstar Charlie Blotner (you’re never losing that nickname!) moderated our MedX panel called Ah-Ha! moments in mental health and chronic disease management, which included myself, Danielle Edges, Mark Freeman, and Sarah Kucharski as panelists.


Panel group selfie via Mark Freeman


Photo courtesy of Charlie Blotner/Stanford MedX flickr

We were humbled by the standing-room-only attendance for our panel, and we want to highlight the want and need for the mental health discussion to be ongoing within the context of managing chronic conditions.  As Mrs. Stanford’s note illustrates, sometimes stating what you feel empowers others to do the same.


Photo courtesy of Charlie Blotner/Stanford MedX flickr


Via Twitter


There are days where I physically do not feel well and I am angry at diabetes.  Angry that it hurts.  Angry that I cannot always hide that fact from my loved ones.  Angry that I’m angry.  (It’s definitely a thing!)

But then I look around at Medicine X, and all I see is hope.  This does not mean complete denial of the bad stuff.  Acceptance does not mean giving up.  Hope is found in the camaraderie that we share, the things that are said and the unspoken understanding of what does not have to be said, the head nods and the bear hugs.

If I did not have diabetes, I might not be an advocate with the honor of attending Stanford Medicine X.  I might not have the privilege of watching my friends Natalie Abbott and Cassius explain Moebius syndrome to a global audience.  I might not hear Danielle Edges’ laughter over the phone.  No matter how or why I got here, I am eternally grateful to be part of this MedX family.


Life is not about the “I might not’s”.  Rather, MedX has taught us that life is about the “How might we…?’s”.  How might we be brave, and good?  How might we make healthcare better for all?  

Together is how we might, and how we are.

Mrs. Stanford may not have stood on the podium and delivered her speech at Stanford’s inaugural ceremony.  Yet I cannot help but to think that she now smiles from her heavenly perch as Medicine X rises to new heights each year.  The platform was already there for us; we have chosen to use it courageously, honorably, and generously as we connect the healthcare dots to form a more empathetic world.  I pray that those who come after us will continue to build upon this structure of innovation, creativity, and goodwill.

As we like to say, the best is yet to come…



Images shared are from Stanford Medicine X 2016 and related events.  

I attended Stanford Medicine X 2016 as a junior member of the ePatient advisory panel.  As such, I accepted a partial scholarship for my participation.  My disclosures can be found here.


WEGO Health’s 2016 Health Activist Awards

If you feel so inclined, I would greatly appreciate your endorsements for my nominations to WEGO Health’s 2016 Health Activist Awards.  In my opinion, we are all health activists by virtue of being engaged in our own healthcare stories, as well as being supportive members of online (and even offline!) communities.  Your interactions over the past 2 years have been invaluable to my healthcare journey, and I hope that I have offered that same level of support in return.

To endorse me, please see the link here.

Many thanks to WEGO Health for all that they do to make healthcare better!



Image credit: WEGO Health


Very Light, No Sugar has reached its second blogoversary.  Although I find myself wondering how time has flown by so quickly, that simply means it’s been a fun two years.  In 2015, I had a lot to say at this time.  This year, I will keep it short and sweet.

Thank you to those who have visited my website over the past two years.  When starting a blog in 2014 from a tiny apartment in Rhode Island, I never imagined that people in 73 different countries would visit my little corner of the internet so far this year.

Although 2016 has brought some diabetes frustrations along the way, I am comforted in knowing that we have honestly shared our stories with the world.  Someone out there who needs to hear our words is listening.  The #doc and other healthcare arenas are platforms by which we can give a voice to a greater purpose, where we can make the decision to be good despite the bad that life throws at us.

Your faith and support on the bad days make the diabetes cross a lighter weight to carry.  Your genuine kindheartedness makes the good days that much sweeter.

I still daydream about the day when I will celebrate blogoversary # XYZ and get to write that our communal efforts cured diabetes that past year.  In the meantime, I am simply happy to have found your support, and hopefully to have offered some back in return.


Forever lifting my coffee mug to you,