Nobody's Perfect, Diabetically Speaking

I'm not perfect.

No, really. I'm not.

I have, in fact, proclaimed my ability to fairly accurately predict the general range of my blood glucose levels as a diabetic, often within about 50 mg/dL. Scott has even gone so far to call this ability my "Spidey-sense". Very flattering, though undeserved.

Why am I coming out, now, with my lack of perfection in this area? Well, because just as I try to be helpful in teaching others how to hone their own Spidey-sense, the truth is no one will ever be perfect at it. In fact, there will be times you are widely off.

Take last night as a fine example. I came home from the store with some cookie dough all ready to eat several delicious chocolate chip cookies. So, after sticking the cookies in the oven, I figured I'd better test. I mean, I knew I wasn't high. Maybe 150, though.

Click...squeeze...5...4...3...2...1...

302! D'oh! So, I bolused and waited for my BGL to drop...and then ate my delicious chocolate chip cookies. (Turns out I over-estimated carbs, and ended up low enough to eat an extra chocolate chip cookie about an hour later.)

So, see there? Even Spidey can be wrong.

But this whole experience got me to thinking about something only slightly related. As I was testing, I was thinking about how much each strip costs, and how expensive that can be for those without insurance. I'm sure plenty of folks forego testing as often as they should in order to save money.

So, let me give you a tip that I sometimes do if I don't have the ability to test, but suspect I might be high. Let's presume I had been perfect yesterday, and I had known I was around 300...but couldn't tell for sure. Let's also presume I was out of strips (which happens from time to time). What to do?

Well, I could give a correction for that 300. But if I'm wrong, I risk a serious low. I could do nothing, but that wouldn't be healthy if I was right. The answer is to compromise.

In such a scenario, I will bolus enough to bring down a high slightly, but not enough that should I dip into low territory, it would be dangerous. Start with a unit or two in my case. Then I wait. I wait maybe two hours...enough time for that bolus to do most of its job. (Sure, there is residual insulin, but very little with a two-unit bolus.) If I didn't go low, then I'll give myself an additional bolus of a unit or so. Then wait again.

Rinse and repeat.

Then, once you start to feel yourself going low, you stop bolusing and eat a snack enough to counteract any additional insulin you bolused.

I'll add a caveat that this is only a good idea for those who are sensitive to their lows. Not a good idea for those who experience hypo-unawareness.

Anyhow, that's my technique for today. Sure, not a medical-doctor approved method, but we live in a real world with real medical costs and real situations where you might not have test strips available. It works for me, and that's all I'm saying!

Attention, Logbook DM Users

Some of you know me back from my Logbook DM days. (Uh, Scott!) If you're not familiar with Logbook DM, here's the brief story.

Many years ago, before the PDA even existed, I had this idea that software could help a person calculate their insulin dosages pretty easily given the rise of carb-counting. I played around with formulas, and used my trusty HP calculator to store some of them for my own use. I even discussed my idea, at the time, with my endocrinologist, who was quite intrigued with the idea. But, alas, the technology needed to make it practical was still a few years away.

Some time later, I bought my very own PDA. A Sony Clie running the PalmOS. And, of course, I realized that this was the perfect platform to realize my dream. But before I started working on that dream, I figured I would see if anyone else was doing the same thing.

Answer was yes and no. There were applications for diabetics out there, but none of them really worked the way that I wanted them to. They were designed and laid out like a programmer would want them to be, not like a user. They seemed to ignore the connection between current BGL, food intake, and the insulin bolus. So, I wrote Logbook DM to address this.

I had a lot of ideas for Logbook DM...some of which were probably ahead of their time, and ultimately never realized. This included fuzzy-logic used to analyze your trends and give recommendations as to what might be causing highs in the evenings or lows after lunch, etc. I just didn't have the time to spend on it.

But, Logbook DM was apparently useful to a great many users and is still available to this day, albeit at a lower price. That lower price is because I no longer actively develop Logbook DM.
I even considered making it available for free, but then realized that would actually be unfair to those developers who are still developing their software. They would have no incentive to improve their software if I'm giving away a decent application for free. And, frankly, I'd rather see my software superseded by something even better.

The unfortunately thing is that while Logbook DM is still a decent application, technology has moved on, and new devices have come out. New devices that have presented some compatibility problems. The Treo line of devices, in particular, have proven themselves troublesome. Not sure why, exactly, but certain features of Logbook DM don't play nice on the Treo, even though the same feature works fine on others.

So, to those who use Logbook DM and have faced issues with it resetting, I have this one general bit of advice that has helped a great many. Apparently, the PalmOS has this feature where you can selectively disable hi-res support for any given application. If Logbook DM has caused problems for you, then I suggest going into your PalmOS preferences (not Logbook DM preferences) and turn off hi-res support for Logbook DM. This seems to clear up a majority of the problems.

Sadly, I just don't have the time nor resources to develop Logbook DM beyond where it is today. I wish I did. I have a list of features I still would have liked to see...including having a version that runs on the PocketPC/Windows Mobile platform. I'm sorry to say, it isn't going to happen. And if some enterprising individual wants to take over the Logbook DM application, contact me and I'd be willing to hand over the source code (as ugly as it is) to be further developed.

Still Numb, and Wishing For a Tricorder

You'd never guess that my blog is world-famous for it's discussion of "numb fingertips". Really. Just check my blog stats, and you'd find that, on average, 20-30% of people who Google their way to my blog use the terms "numb fingertips".

Nevermind, I've discussed the topic all of twice.

But, to satisfy the masses, I'm providing entry number three. Why? Because, quite simply, I have numb fingertips. On my right hand. My ring and pinkie fingers.

The last time I had numb fingertips, it was because of a weird sleeping position. Problem went away in a few days. But several months back, I started experiencing on-going numbness in my two fingers. I spent time looking up the issue, including Googling "numb fingertips" and running across this blog entry by one Ryan Bruner.

Okay, so I ignored that one. But I did discover some possible causes. I tried to take the recommended remedies, but nothing really helped. So, I finally consulted an Orthopedic doctor a few weeks ago and had an EMG on Friday.

The next time a doctor recommends I need some kind of test, I think I'm to decline. First, there was the MRI. You can read about that in my blog. But EMG sounds harmless. Something electrical, so I figured they just tape some sensors to my hand and record the results.

Not quite the case. Sure, the doctor taped some sensors. He also drew little lines all over my hand, wrist, and arm, measured distances, and then repeatedly zapped me with electricity. Basically, it feels like you're being electrocuted. Probably because you're being electrocuted.

Not fun. It was mostly annoying, but at times it really hurt, and my screaming just resulted in the doctor saying, "Sorry about that, but I didn't get a measurement. Gotta do it again."

Apparently, the test measures how long it takes for various nerves to transmit the electrical impulse.

After the shocking part was over, there was part two. It involved placing needles into various places and taking some electrical measurements. I wasn't too worried. After all, I've give myself shots since I was 9. I could handle it.

Except insulin shots don't actually go into the muscle. These needles do. And so, once again, I was yelping in pain.

The positive from all this was that the doc did determine that I had a slowing of nerve impulses across my Ulnar nerve...which is exactly what the Ortho doc figured was the case. I go back for my revisit in a few days, and will likely be fitted with something to keep my elbow straight and protected while I sleep at night in an attempt to relieve pressure on the nerve.

But after the MRI experience and now an EMG, I'm really thinking it is time for someone to invent the Tricorder, a la Star Trek.

The Rules of Writing

If you spend any time hanging around a group of writers (which is kind of weird, if you ask me, but whatever!), you'll probably hear some kind of debate revolving around writing rules. There are umpteen different rules that writers are advised to follow, and any decent and/or experienced writer will likely be able to spout a half-dozen of them off without much thought. Oft times, these rules even contradict each other.

One thing you'll also hear is how there are no rules in writing.

So which is it?

I'll admit, I'm a rule kind of guy. I took one of those personality tests, and was rated an INTJ. If you read about such a personality, you'll find that INTJs tend to like rules. Or, at least, rules that serve a useful purpose. So, little surprise that I rather enjoy writing rules.

Yet, I totally understand that there are no rules in writing as well. The problem comes in the word "rule". Because the "rules of writing" aren't so much rules in the, "if you don't follow them, the world will end as we know it" kind of rule. No, the rules are more or less suggestions or guidelines of the kinds of things to watch out for, but go ahead and break all you want if you so choose.

Let's think back to elementary school, when you were learning the rules for spelling and reading. For example, you probably learned that the letter A makes the short sound, such as in the word "ran". You did a ton of worksheets that illustrate this rule. Sure enough, every word you had to read and/or spell followed this rule. Cat. Bat. Sat. Tan. Van. But then, the next week, you get this word: Cane. Suddenly, the rule fails.

Was the rule wrong? No, not exactly. The rule was really a stepping stone. A way to simplify teaching. And once you grasped that concept, you could start learning the exceptions to the rules. You build, until one day, you can read just about anything without even really thinking about the rules involved.

That's how I see the rules of writing. They are stepping stones. Ways of introducing writers to concepts so that they can improve their writing. But as they improve, those rules will become less and less absolute, until the day comes along that you really don't care about the rules. You'll break those rules at will, even though a good percentage of the time, it has become natural to follow them...or not!

Let's take one of the favorites: adverbs are bad. This rule is often grilled into us, and we become hyperaware of each and every adverb we write and read, cringing in horror.

Yet, what's the truth about this rule? Adverbs aren't bad. They serve a very useful purpose in writing. Their overuse could be a sign of poor writing. But their overuse could be a sign of an intentional writing style. So, why the rule? Because it makes a writer aware of a tendency to rely on adverbs where a stronger verb could be used instead, as just one example.

"He ran quickly to the car."

In this example, the need for the adverb is questionable. Running implies a certain level of quickness. So, adding the adverb is redundant. Or, quite possibly, it is a good opportunity to replace the "ran quickly" with a single, more-powerful verb.

"He darted off to the car."

But there are plenty of places an adverb adds to a sentence.

"The dog pounced on me, enthusiastically."

I don't claim this is the greatest prose in the world, but here the use of the adverb adds something that is lose without it.

So what's the point? The point is, a rule of writing may be useful for learning, much like how knowing an A makes the short sound...except when it doesn't. Once you understand the rule, and understand when the rule does or doesn't matter, you can just forget it. Break it all you want!

And one caveat to all of this. People learn in different ways. Some never need these kinds of rules. They just naturally write well. They are blessed.

I'd Rather Live With the Pain

Yesterday, I had my first ever MRI. Not just any old MRI, but a "Left hip MRI arthrigram", which basically means they inject this special die into my hip before doing the MRI.

Why, you may ask, did I need an MRI? Well, I'm glad you asked. About six months or so ago I started experiencing this hip pain. In the joint, really...the leg socket on my left side. It only hurts when I move it certain ways. Normal walking or sitting it is fine. I went through twelve weeks of physical therapy, which improved my range of motion, but did nothing to actually eliminate the pain. My doctor thought it was just tendonitis, which it apparently wasn't. So, off to an orthopedic doctor, who requested the MRI.

Getting an MRI sounds more impressive than it actually is. Mostly, it's boring. But you know when they show people getting one on television? They make it seem like the space is fairly large. I can think of an episode of House where a girl actually crawls out of one. But let me tell you, there isn't room to crawl. I think I had maybe 6 inches above my head, and that's it. My arms couldn't even stay by my sides comfortably.

Anyhow, the MRI was fine. Although, twenty-five minutes of staying perfectly still gets old really fast. But it was the injection of the die into the joint that was horrible. First off, I'm very ticklish. Which means I'm very sensitive. Just to have them clean the area before they started tickled. Then, they inject local anesthetic. They warned me that it feels like a bee sting for a few seconds. Nevermind I've never been stung by a bee for comparison. But, once the needle went in, I have to say...I never want to be stung. Because it hurt like the dickens. (Okay...I'll interject right now that I have no idea why a "dickens" hurts, but I thought it would be fun to use that phrase.)

It was at that point I thought that maybe I would have rather just lived with the hip pain. And it wasn't even over yet. Once they numbed up the area, next came the "big needle"...the one that goes all the way into the joint. The physician's assistant doing the job jabbed it in and, once again, it hurt like the dickens. I flinched and groaned, and he said, "Oh, did you feel that?"

Uh, yeah.

So he said he needed to inject a bit more anesthetic. Which, of course, hurt like the dickens. Finally, he finished by injecting the fluid with the dye. Which, as you can imagine, hurt like the dickens. Although in this case, it wasn't quite as bad...more like a bad ache.

Then it was over. Had my MRI. Got dressed, and walked out of there.

Of course, as the evening progressed, the anesthetic wore off, and my hip was in a lot of pain. (I won't say it this time, but can already tell me how much it hurt, can't you? Like the...) I could barely walk. This morning is better. Still sore, but returning to normal. But I still think I would have rather lived with the pain.

Exercise, or Is That a Low?

Today is my third official day of exercise. I hate to say it, because it sounds so trite, but I have to admit the exercise is kind of fun. Like when I used to play racquetball every other morning with my friends back in college. Okay, so the first couple weeks we played it was tortuous to get through even 20 minutes of game play before we collapsed to the floor, lungs on fire, feeling like we were about to cough them out of our chests. But we quickly adapted and even grew to look forward to getting up early.

See, I'm no early bird. I don't like getting up early. But there we were, waking up at 7:00 in the morning to play for 45 minutes, leaving time to shower before heading to our 8:30 am first class of the day. Remember, I was in college. College students love to sleep in. But we did it.

And now, I feel a bit the same. It is a kind of incentive to wake up and get there early. Sure, the workout itself is a bit grueling, but afterwards I feel a bit exhilarated. Okay, okay. Not exactly exhilarated. More like my lungs on are fire feeling like I'm going to cough them out of my chest. But I'm sure I'll feel exhilarated, eventually.

Anyhow, one thing I'm already learning about exercise is that it throws a curve ball at the whole being able to predict your blood sugar levels thing. Because some of the after effects from the workout are quite similar to symptoms.

For example, the slightly shaky muscle fatigue from the weight machines is very similar to the slightly shaky, weak feeling I experience when my BGL is low. Which means, if I go low, how can I tell?

And then there is the slight stomach pain from the ab crunches, which is quite similar to the nauseated feeling I get when my BGL goes high.

I'll work it out, I'm sure. I'm just at the beginning of this road to greater strength, flexibility, and general health. However, let me just tell you that it was a bit disconcerting when I was adjusting the weights on some of the machines this morning. One machine, which I was struggling with at the 50 lb. mark, had been left at the 150 lb. mark. Which means someone before me was using it at 150 lb. Which means, of course, that I'm a great big wimp! (All the more reason to work out, eh?)

Exercise Program: Day 1

It's official. I'm the proud member of the Fitness Center here at my workplace. And I even lived through the orientation session, which is what day one consisted of. The whole experience was weird for me, starting with the locker rooms.

I'm not shy. I don't care about being naked in a room full of other naked guys. But, it seems that various locker rooms take on unwritten rules and protocols that everyone follows without ever saying anything. Back in college, my friends and I played racquetball three days a week at the campus recreation center. There, the locker rooms were expansive, and no one cared if you walked the mile and a half from your locker to the showers sans clothes or towel. Some did, some didn't. Showers were wide open style, so anyone who was shy was out of luck. Guys would stand at the sinks buck-naked as they brushed their teeth or shaved.

Another gym I've been to had a bit more closed showers. Not completely hidden, but with these half-walls that gave you the illusion of privacy. There, people pretty much kept themselves wrapped until they were to the benches next to the showers, drop their towel, then step in.

So, what about this gym? Trouble was, the time of day I went, there wasn't really anyone else around to follow any rules. Each shower stall has its own shower doors, etc, with this little area where you can hang a towel before getting in. Very private. But I noticed that the one guy who was in a shower had left his clothes out on the bench near the lockers. No help at all. So, do you go ahead and strip at the lockers and head to the showers? Or do you take your towel to the shower and strip once you are just inside the door? They really should have signs or something that say, "Listen, no one really wants to see you without clothes, so do the rest of us a favor."

Anyhow, next up was rating your current physical health. They sort of do a health inventory on all new members, taking blood pressure, pulse, height, and weight. And then they have you do as many push-ups as you can in 30 seconds (eleven, if you really want to know), and these half sit-up thingies in 1 minute (twenty), and finally this flexibility measurement where you try to touch your toes, but using this machine.

What did I learn? When it comes to flexibility, I'm a failure. I couldn't even reach the starting position, giving me a negative score. Pathetic! But, the lady was all nice about it, saying perkily, "Oh, that's perfectly fine! You did great!"

Liar.

Then came the treadmill. Six minute walk at 3.5 mph. She measured my heart rate along the way. By the time my assessment was over, my gym time was pretty much up.

Tomorrow begins the real work. I meet with her again, this time setting up my exercise plan, showing me the ropes on the weights and what not. Until then, I have to decide: naked or not?

Conceptually Speaking, I'm Tired

The North American International Auto Show is upon us, once again. Growing up, and even into adulthood, this was a must-see event. There was something exciting about previewing the latest and greatest car models...not to mention the cool concept cars. You brave the crowds, fighting for a chance to catch a glimpse of that three-wheeled thingamabob, or that car with the doors that flipped up like wings. You imagine the most futuristic vehicles sitting in your driveway, getting in, and having it take you to work as you sit back and read a book! Or, perhaps, just checking out what other cars you might consider to replace the one you already own, but have suddenly grown tired of.

That's how it used to be. But the auto show kind of grew, and crowds became a bit unbearable, and while it is still fun to look at new cars, it just isn't worth the hassle.

And apparently, "old fogy" mode has kicked in for me, because frankly, I'm growing tired of concept cars. I'm tired of the automakers teasing us with awesome looking vehicles that we'll never see. I'm tired of outlandish ideas that no one should ever see. We get it, Ford, GM, Chrysler, Honda, Toyota, Nissan, etc. You can come up with some really nifty, eye-pleasing candy for us to sample. But what's the point? You won't sell us more. I feel a bit like Charlie in the Chocolate Factory...given an everlasting gobstobber that I'm not allowed to eat.

What's the deal? Why can't you show us real vehicles? Or, rather, realistic? We're mature enough to handle it. In fact, we're mature enough to handle those far-fetched styled vehicles as well.

I remember asking my dad, once, why they don't make concept cars for real, and one reason he gave was that there is a point where the public won't buy something that is too futuristic. Yet, that seems less true today. Personally, I think futuristic would sell nicely.

And even when we are taunted with a vehicle that is production-worthy, either it, too, is never seen again, or by the time it actually makes it to the marketplace, it is old news. Ford's Thunderbird was a prime example of that. The concept vehicle was an awesome reincarnation of an American classic. People raved about it. But several years later, after the design had been watered down, the whole "retro" movement had become old news.

Give us the future now, because frankly, I've grown tired of the concept car. It no longer generates excitement, but frustration. Frustration that instead of that sleek-looking vehicle on the podium, we get that clunky-looking counterpart sitting on the floor next to it.

Go, Go Gadget Stem Cell

As I've posted before, I'm vehemently against embryonic stem cells, because for me, it involves the destruction of life. Instead, I have always felt there are other possibilities yet to be explored that, should embryonic stem cell research be allowed, might get left behind and never tried.

But today, in the news, another source of stem cells, potentially as valuable as embryonic stem cells, has been revealed: stem cells from amnio fluid.

This is what scares me about this whole thing. Scientists (and those persons longing for cures for their respective diseases) have been pushing for embryonic stem cell research so hard you'd think it was the Holy Grail. Yet, in doing so, they are missing a vital stepping stone: finding a source of stem cells that doesn't depend on destroying life. Of course, to those who don't see embryos as "life" in the same sense I, and other like me, do, it is no big deal.

But to me, this new source solves the problems. It gives flexibility unseen before in adult stem cells (despite the fact that several different therapeutic uses of adult stem cells have been developed...something which embryonic stem cell research can't claim). It also shows how utterly blinded much of the research community has been, staunchly trying to push embryonic stem cells as the only real source, rather than thinking creatively in new ways to use stem cell research without controversy.

Of course, in one article, a scientist is quick to say something to the effect of, "Well, this doesn't mean we should stop embryonic stem cell research." No. Of course not. Because that would be admitting that, just perhaps, the hoopla around embryos as the only source isn't true. Rather than celebrate this as a great advancement, the scientist is still trying to hold to a principle.

Not that I necessarily blame them. We all do it, don't we? When we believe in something, and work hard at something related to that belief, we will be skeptical. And, truth is, we don't know for certain that amnio fluid as a source of stem cells is completely as flexible as embryonic stem cells, even though early research points that it is. Of course, we also don't know that embryonic stem cells will ever result in therapeutic cures either. It is all theoretical right now.

But for now, I'm ecstatic about this discovery. If offers a controversy-free way to progress in stem cell research, which should make both sides of the debate happy.

And, me being a skeptic myself, I'm still not convinced that I'll ever see a cure for my diabetes in my lifetime, no matter what the source is for stem cells. But if it offers hope to some, that's great. I can say that with tremendous confidence and relief, now knowing there is a new path for stem cell research that does away with the destruction of new life.

It is still a waiting game, however. Years of research behind us, and there is still years of research ahead of us, for which I'm still thankful for companies such as Lifescan, which makes my blood testing meter, and Minimed, which makes my insulin pump, and Lilly, which makes my insulin. Because until there is a cure...until we can say, "Go, Go gadget Stem Cell" and watch it miraculously transform in a new beta cell...there is still the need for treatment.

Exercise: The Great Unknown

I'm a rather healthy guy, if you ignore the fact that I have diabetes, bad back, joint pain in the hip, numb fingers, and, at the moment, a cold. But I'm also getting old. Well, not old old. But older. At last count, I was 33 years old. And given that in the past two years I moved up a pants size, and my belly, which used to be somewhat flat is starting to look a bit, well, less flat, I'm considering starting an exercise program.

Ah...not just any old exercise program. No. I'm planning to join a gym. I'm fortunate to work for a company that has an on-site fitness center. I have to pay to use it, but it is convenient. And in the world of exercise, convenient is a must. (Then again, that treadmill we have in our bedroom is rather convenient as well, and I think I've used it a total of ten times.)

So, in the next couple of weeks I'm going to start my journey at becoming "Mr. Buff." The kind of guy that turns the heads of ladies every time I walk by. Actually, that happens already, except they all seem to look away rather than at me.

Okay, okay. I don't care what the ladies think (except one particular lady who happens to sleep with me...and yes, I'm talking about my wife!). But I do hope to get into shape. Or at least into a different shape.

What will be interesting will be to see how such a change in my life will affect my diabetes. Will my insulin requirements shift? Or my LDL cholesterol levels drop? Will I have more frequent lows? Or maybe less frequent highs?

Or will I just throw my back out?

It is the great unknown. Wish me luck. And in the meantime, I can think of one thing my wife will really absolutely love about my exercising: she can help me pick out some new workout clothes. (Uh...what did you think I was talking about?)

On Your Mark, Get Set...Attack!

Well, the holidays are over. That's a good thing. Because like every holiday break, this one was jam-packed with stuff to get done. And so I'm glad to get back to work so that I can relax.

Honestly, though, once I finished repainting the boy's room, we had a nice time. New Year's Eve involved staying up and playing games with the family until midnight, pausing, of course, to stuff ourselves silly with delicious desserts we won't see again until next holiday season. And, the brunt of the cold that has infiltrated our household (despite my wife's best efforts, diligently slathering us
with antibacterial hand sanitizer every time we left the house, touched a store cart, or even looked like we were about to sneeze) waited until after New Year's Day to really take any of us down.

My third boy faced the worst of the wrath with a high fever and severe cough. Thank the Lord for Motrin and Albuterol, however. Together, along with a decent dose of prayer, we kept him out of the hospital this year. Poor kid. Two days ago, I put the DVD Cars into the player while the family ate. I forgot about him for a bit, but when I finally headed back in to check on him, he was just staring at the menu screen for the movie. I had forgotten to press Play, and he was too out of it to care.

Anyhow, back to New Year's Eve. This year, my wife bought us Uno Attack! It was a blast to play, and it is the first time we were able to play a family game where the entire family could play...even our three and four year olds. (Of course, they needed a measurable amount of assistance from Mom and Dad, but they had a blast.) My daughter mostly got a kick out of pushing the button and having a stream of cards shoot out. My youngest son got a kick out of being able to choose between playing his yellow seven, his yellow six, or his yellow two. My second oldest son got a kick out of trying to earn as many cards as he possibly could, then trading his hand with Dad so that I'd end up with fifty thousand points. My oldest just got a kick out of playing.

My wife? She got a kick out of winning. She blew the rest of us away, actually.

All in all, it was a blast, and we pretty much repeated the evening the following day and played more Uno Attack and eating more delicious desserts.

Hope you all had a great holiday! And now that it is over, I hope you can actually get some time to relax!

Short Story Published!

As I had mentioned last year (isn't that fun to say?), my short story The Dreammaker has been published in the January 2007 issue of Beyond Centauri. I haven't yet received my print copy, but it was a giddy-inducing moment to see it posted on their website, only to discover that my name appears on the front cover! Very exciting. This is my second published short story.

I, of course, will encourage everyone who is anyone to go purchase a copy so that you can show it to all your friends and family and say, "Hey, I know this guy!" even though we've never met outside of this virtual forum. It is a science fiction/fantasy magazine for children/young adults.

And as a teaser, I'm going to post the first few paragraphs here to whet your appetite for more. If you want to read the entire story, you must buy the magazine! (By the way, as of right now, the only way to get to the January 2007 issue at the website is to go to the main Genre Mall webpage. You have to scroll down a bit to see it. Apparently, the subpage specific to Beyond Centauri still lists the previous version as of this post.)

So here it is:

The Dreammaker

by Ryan Bruner

When the boy moved in across the street, Christy could tell he wasn't quite normal. His jet black hair sat on his head like a crooked beret--long on one side and short on the other. His eyes were bold and bright, and his clothes hung so low that he had to hike them up every time he sat.

He sat a lot--under the Oak tree next to the road--reading comic books. And he watched everyone and anyone who drove or walked by, his gaze following them as though staring into their very souls looking for something. Then he would turn back to his comics.

For three days, Christy peeked out at him through her bedroom blinds until his gaze focused on her. Even from across the street, she felt naked, as though he were taking something away from her from the inside out. It almost hurt, and she flicked the blinds closed, gasping for breath.

She tried to avoid him, but each time she peered out to see if he was still there, his eyes glared up at her. It was silly, she knew. He had just moved in. He was probably one of those shy types hoping someone would be his friend. How could she not say hi. They were neighbors, after all.

...

Christmas, and a Contest (sort of)

Hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas! My daughter ended up with a broken leg a few days before! But she's got a nice bright pink cast now, which my wife stenciled with daisies and hearts, so she's all good.

This year, my wife and I did our "stocking game" again. It really is the best event of the holiday season. Spending limit: $20. But this year we had 7 Christmas words, and we each drew one out from a box and threw away the rest. Then, we had to buy presents that spelled the Christmas word for the other person. When it came time to open them, we had to try to figure out the word.

My wife had ANGELS, meaning, she had to buy gifts for me spelling the word ANGELS. I did the same for her with the word SHEPHERD. A lot of fun, and tricky, since we only had about an hour to find all the gifts. (I kind of cheated, though. I had trouble finding another H, so I had to pick Hazelnut Cappuccino Coolers, but Hazelnut really was the flavor, not the name of the product.)

Last thing. As I mentioned in my last entry, I was going to post my children's short story to my website. Well, it is now available. Go check out The Tri-Country Airplane Throwing Contest and let me know what you think. Better yet, print it out and give it to one of your children and let me know what they think of it! It is, after all, for kids.

Upcoming News

I'm not yet listing this news on my website because it is a bit early, but I figured I'd mentioned it here.

First of all, a few months ago I had a short story accepted for publication in Beyond Centauri, which is a science fiction/fantasy print magazine for young adults. My story, The Dreammaker, will appear in the January issue. I'll post when the magazine is available officially, but I'm excited because it is my first print publication credit, as well as my first young-adult credit.

Second, I had written a children's story (amazingly, involving absolutely nothing supernatural!), which I have shopped around to a couple major kid's publications. Neither accepted it, so I'm going to place it up on my stories section. Since it is for kids, I'll welcome anyone to print it out and give it to their children to read. In the next week or so, it should be up.

And, since we are approaching Christmas, I wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas now, in case I don't get a chance to post again before then!

The Diabetic Role Model

When I was just a sprig in Tennessee (err, a kid in a middle school in Michigan...but I just watched one of the Christmas episodes of Little House on the Prairie last night), I was quickly turned into a diabetic role model.

See, I wasn't the only diabetic in my middle school. In fact, there were four of us...which, statistically speaking, is rather impressive. Anyhow, the school nurse thought it was important for us diabetics to form this special club or something, meeting once a month to discuss all the trials and tribulations of having the disease. She would also use it as a way to sneak in lessons on nutrition, but I was on to her about that.

Anyhow, the thing is, by the time I was in middle school, I was well versed in my disease, and was pretty much over any "issues" that might come along with it.

But there was another boy with diabetes who wasn't over it. He had been recently diagnosed and was bitter about it, to the point of trying to pretend he didn't have the disease at all. Given he was likely still experiencing a bit of honeymoon period (time when the body hadn't fully quit producing insulin), he would try to go days at a time without taking his insulin, and ultimately end up in the hospital.

So, I was elected (by way of an anarchy, actually...it was the single vote of the school nurse that mattered) to be this other boy's role model. I was to befriend him, talk to him about dealing with diabetes, etc. And I did just that.

I'm not sure how much of a role model I actually was, though, because mostly I thought he was kind of a whiny baby. I mean, get over it already. You're a diabetic! All your bemoaning isn't gonna change that!

But, regardless, he did confide in me, and I helped him through a few rough times over the course of about two years.

I've always been somewhat of a loner when it comes to my diabetes. I pretty much take care of it myself, only relying on my endocrinologist to write me prescriptions and run my A1c tests. But looking back in hindsight, having dealt with a great many more diabetics, I can see how important it is for some to have such a role model...someone to inspire them to push through the emotional turmoil it apparently brings. Someone to teach them. Someone who will listen and understand. And then I realize how even I, the loner, find myself drawn into diabetic-exclusive conversations when I meet with a fellow diabetic.

We are a club. We have something in common that those without the disease can't ever completely understand. For some, like myself, it isn't a big deal. For others, it is a major life-changing event. Regardless, there is an instant comradery among diabetics that seems to transcend other differences in personality and beliefs.

Like it or not, I'm a role model. I always have been. And those of you who have lived with diabetes for years are role models as well. You see it in the Diabetes "OC". You see it in such on-line groups as insulin-pumpers.org. And if you have a child with diabetes, you just might want to encourage them to become a diabetic role model as well. Because there is something amazingly transforming when you realize that you have something to offer to others that they can't get anywhere else. Becoming a role model empowers that person by helping others.

I don't know whatever happened to the boy I helped back in my middle school days. We went to different high schools and never saw him again. But I can't help but believe that I made a difference in his life.

O Christmas Tree

Have you heard about the airport in Seattle that removed the Christmas trees?

The whole situation is kind of sad. Apparently, in response to the fact that there were Christmas trees, a Jewish Rabbi requested that menorahs be placed in the airport as well. Of course, the airport, now fearing that if they placed a menorah, would then have to follow with other holiday decorations, decided to just take down all the Christmas trees instead.

This wasn't what the Rabbi had wanted, nor the airport workers. The workers pooled their money and bought Christmas trees of their own and put them up.

What makes this situation odd to me is that idea that Christmas trees are a Christian symbol. They aren't, actually. Despite having become associated with Christmas, the Christmas tree is not originally grounded in Christian tradition. It has nothing to do with Christ or his birth. And, actually, the time of year we celebrate Christmas really has nothing to do with the Bible. It was originally chosen to coincide with some pagan celebration.

Perhaps I'm odd. When I see a Christmas tree, I don't think of Jesus. I think of the holiday season. Now, I suppose if the airport had put up a nativity, it is a different issue, as that is clearly religious in nature. But Christmas trees?

Not that I blame the Rabbi in this, either. I certainly would have no issue about there being a menorah. The festival of lights and the event that the menorah represents demonstrates the power of God in a time before Christ. Problem is, if you put up a menorah, you definitely are placing a religious symbol up...which could lead to Christians insisting on putting up a nativity.

Rather circular problem I think. And, as I understand it, up until this past century, the festival of lights was a rather minor holiday as Jewish holidays go.

Whether people think the Rabbi was wrong for asking to put up the menorahs, or the airport was wrong for taking down the Christmas tree, or the airport workers were wrong for putting up their own trees in protest...I think it demonstrates something sad. People seem to forget that these holidays are meaningful to individuals. The public display of such symbols are in response to individuals wanting them there. Isn't this supposed to be a world of "tolerance"? (Which, actually, I take issue with...but I won't get into that here.) Yet, rather than tolerating anything, we say, "Hey, they got their way...I should get my way, too!"

That's not exactly tolerance.

Well, really...I think everyone should stop worrying about who wants to display their Christmas tree or menorah and get back to the real reason for the holiday season: shopping!

(Uh, that's a joke, by the way. Sarcasm. You know?)

Getting It All Wrong

I was rather irritated with last night's episode of ER.

Actually, this entire season hasn't been all that great, but I've been watching the show since it's inception, so it is hard to give up, you know? Anyhow, if you don't watch, they introduced this character this season who is supposed to be a Bible-believing Christian. And, of course, they decided to cast this character as a stereotypical dumb-blonde. I've tried to tolerate that, because it is, after all, ER.

But last night made me mad. Because we got to "sit in" on a Bible study.

Apparently, the writer's of ER have never actually been to a Bible study. Because generally speaking, a Bible is involved. Here, it was more like a group therapy session. And while there isn't anything wrong with that...there is when the supposed leader of the Bible study is offering advice that is counter what the Bible says.

And then further, it is most frustrating when the one character who is sitting in who doesn't believe any of it sort of lies, making up a bunch of stuff about "purity of spirit", and suddenly everyone in the Bible study is swayed to his way of thinking, accepting the fact that everything they have been studying (presumably, even though they didn't really show it) is "antiquated".

I felt a bit ill at that moment. I mean, it was a blow to Christians who truly believe, who turn to the Bible, and yet have this show that just tried to imply that everything they believe is antiquated and irrelevant, etc.

One major flaw I saw was when the leader went around the room to talk about how you should deal with various sins. So, for the sin of pride, offer up humility, etc. Good. Fine. Then comes the issue of "lust". This is where, of course, the non-believing character says to offer up "purity."

Okay. Except the leader said, "Well, I was looking for chastity..."

Right there. That's where things went bad. Because, guess what? Chastity isn't the Bible's answer to lust. Chastity and "sexual purity" are not the same thing. (Oh, and when the guy said "purity", he wasn't talking "sexual purity", but this ambiguous "purity of spirit", which was meaningless, but apparently everything in the room loved because it meant they could go and have as much sex as they wanted or something.)

Anyhow, believe it or not, the Bible encourages sex. It celebrates it (Song of Solomon) in fact, and Paul actually instructs the church that they should get married and have sex! Why? Because of lust!

Sex is the answer to lust, not chastity. Of course, the Bible expects sexual purity, meaning that sex is kept within the marriage. But within that marriage, you're supposed to be having a grand old time in bed!

You know, I don't really have a problem if people don't want to believe that. What I have a problem with is ER making fun of the Christian belief, and even goes so far to get that belief wrong. Yeah. It's easy to poke holes at a belief that isn't actually accurate.

In the end, the Bible-believing Christian doctor decides that it is okay to have sex any old time as long as there is "purity of spirit", and the non-believing doctor decides, for the first time in his life, not to have sex. (Which is a portrayal I don't necessarily have an issue with, since that happens. Plenty of Christians fail to live up to sexual purity. It is one of the reasons, in fact, we believe...because we fail!)

Next time, get it right, ER. Why not actually show Christianity, for once, how it actually is rather than trying to insult us with misrepresentation? I don't know. Maybe it wasn't intentional. Regardless, count me as one who found the whole thing offensive.

The Family That's Sick Together...

Bronchitis. Fever. Sore Throat. Coughing. Runny Nose. Ear infection.

These are just some of the things in our house right now. Six people in our family, and six people with some degree of illness.

'Tis the season to be sick, I guess. I was sick a month ago, and got over it. But in the past day, my cough is returning. My oldest boy had avoided any signs of illness until two days ago, when he started complaining of a sore throat.

There is a positive to the family that's sick together...I just don't know what that positive is yet. I'm sure I'll think of something eventually.

It's a bad time for it, too. (Not that there's ever a good time to be sick.) I have a choir Christmas program this weekend. Three performances. Plus, Saturday, my family (well, those here in Michigan) is having the annual Christmas get-together where we over-eat and hand out gifts to our nieces and nephews. So, we'll probably end up contaminating their families in the process, just in time for Christmas!

And speaking of choir programs...I'm very excited about this year's program. See, it's not just a choir program. It is an entire drama. And this year, I wrote the script. Well, not all of it. See, our Worship Minister had these comedy "sketches" (apparently, no longer called skits) he found in this book. They were short, unrelated sketches. And then we had a choir program with a bunch of Christmas songs of various styles, but again, unrelated.

So, he called upon me to write a funny script to tie it all together. And so, in two months time, I had done just that. It was rather fun, because I'd never really written comedy before until this past summer. And that script was only about seven pages. This script was considerably longer, written for four main characters instead of one. The promo for the program (which I also wrote) goes like this:

It's Christmas Eve, you're trapped in an elevator with four strangers, and the mall just closed leaving no hope of rescue.

No, it's not a promo for Die Hard 10 - it's a hilarious peek into the peculiar lives of Randy, Martha, Stephen, and Mel. Can they learn to recapture their Christmas spirit? Or will the elevator music get to them first?

On Monday, we had our first full rehearsal...and it was my first chance to see my script acted out. What a feeling, to see something you worked hard on come alive like that. I've done other choir programs before, written narrations, even wrote a complete choir program, music and all...yet, this was the first time I wrote of this caliber something outside my usual comfort zone.

So, if you're in Southeast Michigan this weekend and want to come see something funny, let me know and I'll tell you where to go!

If They Could Just Stay Little...

So, my boys have outgrown their Carter's outfits. They are into Spiderman and Jedis, and have even taken a fascination with basketball.

And it seems my oldest boy is moving into a new stage of maturity. *Sniffle*

It seems, without consulting us (his parents) first, he has decided to become...responsible! It is a scary thing, because it means we (his parents) have to loosen our grip a bit more than we're ready to do.

But he's ready. He's all for it. A few days ago, I even assigned him his first home-improvement project: replacing an outlet cover in his bedroom. It had one of those child safety ones where you have to press a button to access the outlet. But, such a cover prevented the ability to plug certain things in. So, I handed him a screwdriver and outlet cover and let him at it.

Of course, I did this without telling my wife until after he was done, at which point she said, "But, he could have electrocuted himself!"

But she is handling it all quite well, having discussed with him how hard it will be for us to give him more responsibility, but how we know he's ready, so be patient with us. (My wife is always so incredibly perceptive of our kids, and actually, you know, talks to them about things like this, which they, of course, love. Weird.)

And so I have to wonder what's next. This is just a small precursor to such big events in his life, from ordering his own food at Burger King, going through puberty, to eventually learning to drive a car (eek!), falling in love, getting married, having children...

Uh. I'm getting ahead of myself. I can't take it in all at once. Thankfully, children don't grow up quite that fast...though it seems close to it. Still, I can't help but wish if they could just stay little until their Carter's wear out. Because this whole giving them responsibilities thing is hard.

I guess it's time to have that Spiderman talk. "With great power comes great responsibility." We'll tackle the birds and the bees later. *Gulp*

Great book, for teens, kids, and grown-ups, too!

Right now, I'm in the process of finishing reading my first book by author Scott Westerfeld.

Uglies is a story set in a future where being ugly (that is, normal looking) is practically a crime, where everyone, on their sixteenth birthday, is turned pretty. The main character, Tally, can't wait to be pretty so she can be with her best friend...who was already turned pretty three months earlier.

Generally, I haven't made many book recommendations here, but I felt Mr. Westerfeld's work deserves some recognition. It really is fantastic. The book is targeted as the young adult/teen, but it is written in a way that can appear to younger kids, as well as adults. In fact, since I was "reading" it in audiobook format, my older boys were really enjoying hearing parts of it. So much so, that my oldest said to me, "You'd better not listen to this without us!" (I think they were drawn in by the concept of the hoverboard, which plays a prevalent role in the book.)

I've really enjoyed every minute of the book, and am excited to finish it. (Only a couple chapters to go.) Mr. Westerfeld has a way of really capturing the thoughts and feelings of the 16-year-old protagonist, Tally. She is an imperfect character, whose flaws go beyond being "ugly". Yet she is a character you care about, and see her struggling with knowing just what the right thing to do is.

On top of this, Mr. Westerfeld paints a believable, albeit far-fetched, future.

One bit of irony in this is that my short story, "Buyer's Remorse", which can be found in the stories section of my website, has a very similar extrapolation of the future. When I first read a blurb about Uglies, in fact, I was a bit taken aback.

Fabulous book, however. Part one of a trilogy. If there is a young adult in your life who enjoys to read, you might consider this for them! Or, for yourself!