New York City mayor, Michael Bloomberg, has proposed a tax of 12 cents per can of soda (a penny per ounce). During his weekly radio address, Bloomberg said the soda tax would discourage consumers from buying sugar-laden drinks. According to the NYT, Bloomberg noted research suggesting that such a tax would reduce consumption of the sugary drinks, and drive down obesity rates and their accompanying medical costs. The main thrust, however, was on finding a quick source of revenue for a city in serious need of one. “In these tough economic times, easy fixes to our problems are hard to come by,” he said. “But the soda tax is a fix that just makes sense. It would save lives. It would cut rising health care costs.”

Indeed it might, but taxing soda alone will not promote good health. Like so many others, Bloomberg is using health as the easiest disguise for raising revenue. A soda tax is a deceptive, easy fix – the last thing we should be seeking now. Instead of an easy fix, Bloomberg and other policy makers should seek a long-term sustainable program that educates people about nutrition. If giving up soda is going to save lives, then let’s do it for real. How about making it illegal for anyone under 21 to buy soda? Instead of having teenagers loiter around store fronts trying to get someone to buy them a few beers, let’s have them out there trying to score a can of Coke. And what would happen if McDonald’s couldn’t serve soda to children?

Pepsi and Coca-Cola recently announced they would improve nutritional labeling on their products. If soda is killing us, then let’s not kid ourselves and think that a more visible nutritional label is going to make a difference. We need to go for the skull and crossbones. No one is going to pay attention to anything less than that. You know why? Because no one knows anything about nutritional labels. No one knows that carbohydrates and sugar are the same thing. The people who drink six cans of soda a day have no idea what 28 grams of sugar per can means. They don’t know this because lawmakers are looking for a quick fixes instead of going through the long and difficult process of educating people.

I’m not a Coke or Pepsi advocate. I think they’re selling crap, and I think they know they’re selling crap. But why are we picking on them? Why not tax all food that is crap, including breakfast cereals like this one?

(Apparently regular Froot Loops weren’t sweet enough for Americans, so Kellogg’s kindly created a marshmallow version). Or how about this – instead of singling out only one of the causes of obesity, why not make it difficult and expensive to sell all sugared products? Why not treat all sugars equally, as we treat all cigarette brands equally? Perhaps we can institute laws that require supermarkets to make a junk food section, with a tollbooth at its entrance and charge $5 per person to enter. Such a draconian and expensive measure might really lead to real reduction in the consumption of all junk food.

America’s obesity (and diabetes) problem runs so deep that pointing a finger here or there isn’t going to solve anything. Soda is junk, but it’s merely the junk at the top of the pile.

I’m a huge American Idol fan, and I take my Idol watching seriously.  It’s my version of watching sports on TV.  I attribute my Idol love to my childhood years of watching contests and singing shows with my grandmother, Bashy.  She and I watched a lot of Star Search together.  We watched Barbara Mandrell and the Mandrell Sisters.  And we always watched Miss America.  Now I watch American Idol with my sons, who are great company, but many times as I watch I think of Bashy and I can almost hear her making snarky comments about the contestants (she should put some clothes on, she looks like trash, etc).  If Bashy were alive today she’d surely be making comments about Crystal Bowersox (she should wash her hair).

Dirty hair or not, I’m a big Crystal Bowersox fan, and I noticed some headlines saying she’s been hospitalized for (unconfirmed) diabetes complications.  This comes right on the heels of news about former Idol contestant,  Elliott Yamin, a type 1 diabetic who was stranded in Chile after the recent earthquake.  Yamin was low on supplies for his insulin pump.

Hopefully Yamin has found his way home safely by now.  And I certainly hope that Bowersox is well and able to compete.  Does anyone know if Bowersox is a type 1?  If so, that’s another reason I’ll be cheering for her.

I’m a type 1 diabetic and I support JDRF.  I think it’s a fantastic organization and I’ve recently been talking to my husband, also type 1 diabetic who is training for the Rotterdam marathon, about whether we could use his marathon as an opportunity to raise funds for JDRF – the organization whose mission is to find a cure for diabetes and its complications through the support of research.   This morning, however, I thought I was reading The Onion as I read the article Donuts for Diabetes and saw this picture of the cute JDRF shoes logo topped with a doughnut.

Apparently, the second annual Krispy Kreme Challenge has just taken place.  What is the Krispy Kreme Challenge?  It’s a diabetes event centered around doughnuts. No, that doesn’t mean a bunch of people got together, ate doughnuts and tried to bring on type 2 diabetes.  Surprisingly, it was an event which took place in order to raise money for JDRF.  Krispy Kreme Challenge participants ran a mile or so, ate up to a dozen doughnuts, and then ran back.  I asked my husband, a serious runner who knows as much as anyone about balancing blood sugar levels, insulin, and exercise, what he thought would happen to him if he ran a mile ate a dozen doughnuts and then ran another mile.  “I think I would die,” he said.

On that note, let’s stop for a moment and look at this chart which includes nutritional data for Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts.

Nutritional Facts

% Daily
 Value* 

 A Dozen Glazed
 Doughnuts

%Daily
Value *

One Glazed
Doughnut

120%

2,400

10%

200

Calories

1,200

100

Calories from Fat

216%

144

18%

12g

Total Fat

348%

72mg

29%

6g

Saturated Fat

12%

60mg

1%

5mg

Cholesterol

48%

1140mg

4%

95mg

Sodium

84%

264g

7%

22g

Carbohydrate

120g

10g

Sugars

24g

2g

Protein

*Percent Daily Values (DV) are based on a 2,000 calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs.

**source: Krispy Kreme

Yes, you did read that correctly – 12 glazed doughnuts contain 2,400 calories, 264 grams of carb, and 144 grams of fat.

Now factor in this:

According to FitSugar, “Syracuse University did a study that involved 12 men and 12 women. Their caloric burn was measured when both walking (19:00 minute miles) and running (9:30 minute miles), for a distance of 1,600 meters (about a mile). The men burned an average of 105 calories while running, and just 52 while walking; the women burned 91 calories while running and 43 walking.”

In summary:  A man who completed the Krispy Kreme Challenge consumed 2,400 calories.  If he ran the course, he burned 210 of them.  If he walked, he burned 104 calories.  (And eek – 264 grams of carb in 12 doughnuts!  How much do you bolus to cover that?)

Annette Peery, organizer of the Krispy Kreme Challenge knows that some of us might be raising our eyebrows at her event.  Her comment to Eye Witness News 9, “A lot of people are saying, ’why would you be running and eating donuts for diabetes.’ She explains that type 1 diabetes is not related to obesity and physical inactivity, but rather, it’s an autoimmune disorder.  Dear Ms. Perry, type 1 diabetes might not be caused by obesity, but eating foods like doughnuts which are high in sugar, fat, and carbohydrates, are poison for all people, and especially for type 1 diabetics who are trying to avoid complications of diabetes by controlling their blood sugar and cholesterol.

It’s true, type 1 diabetics *can* eat sugar, so long as they can cover themselves with the proper amount of insulin.  But that’s not an easy thing to do.  And while almost all type 1 diabetics do sometimes eat sweets, I believe it is important to acknowledge that these foods are not good for us.  We have to avoid falling into the “equality” argument which goes something like… I might have diabetes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t eat just like everyone else. As diabetics, we aren’t equal.  This isn’t a matter of gender or race.  This is about survival with a very serious, chronic illness.  No diabetic of any type should be encouraged to eat doughnuts, no matter how good the cause.

Finding a cure for diabetes is no simple thing.  But keeping diabetic complications to a minimum is possible for those of us who manage –overall- to keep our blood sugar levels in the target range.  My husband and I work hard to do this.  And the way we succeed is by avoiding foods high in sugar and carbohydrates.  The formula is pretty simple:  the less sugar you eat, the less insulin you need to process it.

Meanwhile, I’m inspired.  The Krispy Kreme challenge has led me to think of other fund raising ideas.  Tomorrow morning I think I’ll approach Phillip Morris and suggest they sponsor the Marlboro Challenge to raise funds for cancer research.  Participants will run a mile, smoke a dozen cigarettes, and then run back.  Double the money for anyone who completes the course without coughing.

***Here’s a worthwhile challenge for you:  Richard Lane, President of Diabetes UK, and one of the first people in the UK to receive islet cell transplant, is challenging himself to walk 7.5 miles along Hadrian’s Wall to raise funds for diabetes research.  The walk will take place on June 19, 2010.  You can make a donation to support Richard’s challenge. To join Richard on his walk contact northyorks@diabetes.org.uk.

Indian researchers have found that cow urine contains certain molecules that can fight diabetes, according to this report.

Not to knock anyone’s good, hard research, but what popped into my mind when I read this was a scene with the witches in Macbeth:

“Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork, and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg, and howlet’s wing,–
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.”
Macbeth (IV, i, 14-15)

* My suggestion: substitute the words “pee of cow” in place of “eye of newt.”  Not bad, right?

The truth is, I don’t know what to make of this report, and since it’s so sparse it’s difficult to gauge the seriousness of the research.  I don’t think using bovine urine molecules would be considered xenotransplanation, like infusing pig islet cells into humans.  But certainly, whatever it is,  if it works (and no cows are harmed while their urine is harvested) then I’m all for it.  Hey – with Avandia under fire there is a nice opening for a new diabetes drug.

http://www.dailymotion.com/videoxcdvy9

In most contexts, genuine is a quality we desire.  Think of how things are marketed – genuine 14 karat gold, genuine leather, genuine beef jerky, genuine Swiss chocolate.  If you’re going to buy something – or eat something – you want it to be genuine, right?  Not if you’re my dad.  My dad loves fake things, and the best way to sell him something would be to declare it 100% fake.  He would love to buy a watch made of hay at the dollar store which had the word Rolex on it.  And if there is a faux food product – no matter how processed – he’s sure to give it a try.  During my last visit to my dad’s house, he was pushing Tofurky in a big way.  If you need a of fix of fake butter, fake eggs,  fake cheese, or fake beer, just open his refrigerator door.  Got a craving for fake bacon or fake sausage links?  They’re waiting for you in my dad’s freezer.

The reason I’m thinking about this today is because I woke up, checked the morning emails, and  read Hungry Girl’s latest, Griddle Me This, in which she gives McDonald’s Sausage, Egg, and Cheese McGriddle a make-over.  If you’re not familiar with Hungry Girl,  when it comes to food, she’s a lot like my dad, only far more popular.  Hungry Girl has gained fame by taking high calorie foods and finding ways to make them low-calorie or, in other words, fake.

So back to this morning.  While thinking about what I was going to have for breakfast, I took a good look at both McDonald’s sausage, egg, cheese and pancake McGriddle, and Hungry Girl’s version which she calls a ChickGriddle.  First of all, EW, EW, EW to both of them.  Second of all, c’mon guys, it’s breakfast.  Breakfast is the easiest meal of the day.  If you’re not diabetic you can have cereal or a bagel.  If you are diabetic you can pop a slice of whole grain bread into the toaster and spread it with cottage cheese.  Or have an omelet.  Or yogurt.  But, let’s say for the sake of argument that you absolutely have to eat sausage when you roll out of bed.  Fine.  Then have sausage.  But sausage with eggs and cheese and pancakes?  In one sitting?  And for breakfast?  Thanks Hungry Girl for taking the time to make this sandwich low calorie with all kinds of fake and processed products. [I'm not a nutritionist, but my guess is that the ChickGriddle isn't any better for your body than the McGriddle.  It's just a different kind of terrible.]

Wouldn’t we all just be better off not having either one of them?  Can’t we all just come together and say, we don’t need this in the world, not the genuine McGriddle, and not the ChickGriddle ?  Can we hear it for whole, natural foods, please?

*I never did taste Tofurky, but my dad swears by it, and it does have a great name.  Can’t say it without smiling!

** Also, Hungry Girl reports, “Today, February 23rd, is both International Dog Biscuit Appreciation Day and National Banana Bread Day.”  I was unaware that either of these days existed, but by chance I made banana muffins last night that some might claim were dog biscuit-like.  My muffins were totally sugarless and sweetener free.  I wasn’t even going to mention them to my sons, but Mike offered them, and my sons gobbled them for breakfast this morning.  The dog licked up the crumbs.  Thus I declare them kid and canine approved.  Ingredients in my muffins – bananas, yogurt, milk, cinnamon, vanilla, almond flour, whole wheat flour, and one egg.

Jessica Apple found love thanks to:

a) tuna fish

b) an omelete

c) falafel

d) quiche

e) gummy bears

The correct answer is C, falafel.  Did you guess right?  Let me explain why.

When I was 18-years-old and just out of high school, instead of going directly to college, I decided to spend a year abroad, which began with three-months of studying in Jerusalem.  One evening, a few weeks after my program began, a friend of mine named Jon – a hefty guy who took his eating seriously – had an intense falafel craving.  “Come out for falafel with me, Jess,” he said.

“No.  I’m not hungry,” I said.  “I want to stay in my room and read.”

“Please,” Jon said.  He was almost begging.  “Just one falafel and that’s it.”

Clearly, the man needed his fix.  I’m usually stubborn, but I relented.

Jon and I took a bus to downtown Jerusalem.  I watched Jon eat his falafel.  Like a mudslide, hummus and tehina ran down the sides of the pita bread.  I ate nothing.  I didn’t say much either.  I was terrible company and I knew it.  I waited politely for Jon to finish, and then I said, “let’s go back.”

“No,” Jon said.  “Let’s go grab a beer.”

Once again I declined his offer.

“Just one beer.  Ten minutes.  Then we’ll head back,” he said.  “I promise.”

“Fine,” I said.

We walked down the street to the bar where my dorm-mates hung out.  Jon got his beer.  Again, I had nothing, and I don’t think I said anything either.  I was annoyed at Jon and I was annoyed at myself for agreeing to do something I didn’t want to do.  I did, however, stop being annoyed long enough to notice that a few tables away sat a very good looking guy who was smiling at me.  I sort of smiled back.  When I got up to leave the bar, the very handsome guy came to the door and said, “Hi, I’m Mikey.”

“Hi,” I said.  Then I left, headed straight for the bus stop, and didn’t look back.  Had I turned around I would have seen Mikey following me.

Two months later I returned to the same bar.  Mikey was there – and I would later learn – he had been every weekend for two months in hope of finding me.   I remembered him and smiled, so he came to sit at my table.  When the waitress put a plate of olives in front of us, we both reached to push them away and said, almost in unison, “I hate olives.”

“What about tomatoes?” I asked.

“I really hate them,” Mikey said.

“Pickles?”

“Hate those too.”

Seven years later, Mikey and I got married.  There were no olives, pickles, or tomatoes at our wedding.

These days Mike and I eat similarly too, thanks to the fact that in the last decade we’ve both been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.  And no surprise –  emotionally, diabetes has brought us closer than ever.  Physically we’re closer now too, thanks to the occasional unintentional needle sharing.  What I mean is, since we have identical glucometers (a bad idea?), every now and then one of us accidentally uses the wrong one.  Just two days ago while in a terrible rush, I reached for the lancet on the counter without thinking, didn’t change the needle, and pricked myself.  Turned out it was Mike’s lancet.  Oopps.  I sent him a text message that said, “I used your pricker.”

When you share a disease and occasionally swap a little blood, who needs Valentine’s Day to mark a relationship?  Right?  But nonetheless, I’m expecting Mike to buy me a nice box of dark chocolate.  Or maybe he’ll take me out for falafel.

I asked my diabetic friends to share some thoughts on Valentine’s Day.  Check them out!

Catherine Price

I was diagnosed on February 17th, 2001, which means I have no clear memory of what happened on Valentine’s Day that year. I remember something about a movie theater and feeling very, very tired, but I can’t remember any details. All I know is at that point I probably couldn’t see straight, and I think I’d just gotten up from bed, since I’d spent the beginning of that week throwing up from what must have been ketoacidosis. In other words, it wasn’t terribly romantic. But ever since then Valentine’s Day has made me think of diabetes — I try to imagine it as a really twisted sort of anniversary.

Kerri Morrone Sparling

As an insulin-pump wearing type 1 diabetic, I knew I found the right guy when that moment of “disconnecting my pump” became just as sexy as the moments that followed.  (Doesn’t hurt that he’s also willing to keep cookies by the bed, just in case of a low.  Rawr!)

Karmel Allison

Dear Valentine,

Yes

your heart I take

you offered

you did between the arms

of a red envelope

tucked

beneath a bow die-cut

a reference I think

to some infant Neoclassic

cliche and

your box of chocolates

beside.

Yes your heart I take

and your chocolate

and I offer you

an exchange your heart

for my heart your

chocolate for

my burden:

your chocolate if

I want it eat it

wake you at night

drowning in my

bloodstream viscous

and sweet I threaten

our children their

genes from me in

broken glucose chains

a life of counting

concerns a set of terms

nephrology and decay the death

til we part

possibly today.

Dear Valentine,

forgive me this

sorry exchange

and instead let’s say

your chocolate you

keep our hearts we’ll trade.

I read this New York Times article, “Childhood Obesity Battle Is Taken Up by First Lady,” which details Michelle Obama’s Let’s Move campaign – America’s Move to Raise a Healthier Generation of Kids.  Thank you so much for doing this, Michelle Obama!

What struck me as I was reading the article was that, while kids are the focus of Mrs. Obama’s efforts, much of what she said applies to adults too, especially to diabetic adults.  Take this quote for example: “The truth is, our kids didn’t do this to themselves,” Mrs. Obama said. “Our kids didn’t choose to make food products with tons of fat and sugar and supersize portions, and then to have those foods marketed to them wherever they turn.”

I know that as adults we bear responsibility for our choices, but you know — when there’s a pile of donuts in the office, or fifty different candy bars to choose from at supermarket check-out, it’s pretty hard to resist, even for someone with a lot of willpower.  In other words, if the sugar and fat and Jupiter-sized portions are at our fingertips, and these things are among the primary causes for the rise of diabetes, then please don’t blame diabetics for the fact that they are diabetic, any more than you would blame a child for being overweight.

The key is to have healthy choices available, and not to have junk food marketed to us wherever we turn.  And we must do our best not to have junk food in the house!  I find that if I have apples in the house, I will grab one as a snack without thinking twice.  If I don’t have them around, I begin to look for other things, and if there are cookies in my kitchen – even if I don’t eat them – the fact that they are within arm’s reach drives me a little crazy.

Another New York Times report says the Obama administration will begin a drive this week to expel Pepsi, French fries and Snickers bars from the nation’s schools in hopes of reducing the number of children who get fat during their school years.  Once again, I say thank you!

When my son began first grade in 2006, there was a vending machine outside of his classroom – not near his classroom – but directly across from the classroom door.  What that meant was that when the kids opened the door to step into the hallway, the first thing they saw was the word Coke.  There were six-year-old kids who sat down with a Coke before the bell rang.  My son knew there was no chance he would get a soda, and for the most part, he accepted it.  But there were days when he was angry and jealous of the kids drinking Coke.

A group of parents worked to have the vending machine removed from the school.  We were successful, and I am happy to say that since its departure I have not seen a soda can in the classroom.  It won’t be easy, but we must teach our children, and ourselves, that drinking water is not a punishment -and neither is eating a carrot instead of a cookie.

* FYI: Global Diabetic Awareness has launched the Diabetiville Community Toolbar which enables users of IE and Firefox Browsers to have access to everything diabetic/diabetes, along with a direct graphical interface to all the major diabetes research organizations, Diabetes News Hound, 17 of the top diabetic Blog’s, 10 different DOC’s (Social Networks), and Products for diabetics.  You can download the toolbar here:  http://www.pr-inside.com/global-diabetic-awareness-announces-the-r1695416.htm

We’ve been talking a lot about the tooth fairy lately because Guy lost his first tooth last week, and his second is going to fall out any minute.   [I put money under Guy's pillow, which he was VERY happy to receive.  He thanked the tooth fairy for it and then said, "even though I know it's you, Mommy].   Anyway, all of this fairy talk got me thinking…  the world needs a diabetes fairy, some kind creature who knows whenever a diabetic has gone out to dinner and forgotten her insulin or her glucometer.   Or what if there were someone who could magically make diabetic test strips appear when the test strip bottle is empty?  Or someone who could make a glass of juice appear just at the moment when you start to feel beads of sweat on your hairline?

Since tomorrow is my birthday, and my glucometer is still missing, I’ve decided to make a wish to the diabetes fairy to see if she will bring me my very own CGM (continuous glucose monitor).   I don’t really expect to wake up to a gift-wrapped CGM under my pillow, but – hey- a diabetic is entitled to some fantasies!

My apartment is full of birthday flowers – irises from Mike, an orchid from my mother-in-law, a giant bouquet from my good friends -thanks so much, Jen and Anat!  And my sons got me cyclamen.  This year I share my birthday with the Jewish holiday Tu B’shevat aka the “new year of the trees.”  Happy birthday, Trees!

Glucometer status: still missing.   Last seen neatly packed in a 4 x 5 inch zippered black case.  Answers to the name “Pricker.”  Reward for finding: free glucose reading!

For those of you who – like me – are fans of Kerri Morrone Sparling’s blog, Six Until Me, you’ll be happy to see this LA Times post about the screening of  the film “Buried” at Sundance 2010.  Kerri’s husband, Chris Sparling, wrote the screenplay for “Buried,” which stars Ryan Reynolds.

Mike Makes Muffins!  Mike has been trying to create the perfect pre-exercise muffins for diabetics.  He needs something with enough carb to get him through a long run, but nothing that will make his blood sugar go up too quickly.  As of this morning it looked like he had made muffins that do not cause a blood sugar spike.  Unfortunately, they aren’t the tastiest.  When he gets it right, we’ll share the recipe.

In family news:  Guy lost his first tooth.  Adam pulled himself up to stand.  And the dog threw up on her fancy futon mattress.  Guess who cleaned it?

I’m having an anxiety attack.  I’ve been having one for days and – to be honest – it’s a lot harder to deal with than diabetes.  With diabetes there are many frustrations, but in a certain way, it’s a disease that suits me (if there is such a thing!).  I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies which make me really good about monitoring my blood sugar.  I like being in control.  I grew up keeping kosher so I’ve always known about dietary restrictions.  In short, I have ways of coping with diabetes.  I cannot, however, cope with anxiety.  It undoes me in every way, I get flustered, I can’t concentrate, and I lose things.  A few weeks ago, for example, when Mike and I almost put our apartment up for sale, I lost my wedding ring.  Now, after receiving some scary blood test results (not diabetes-related) I’ve lost my glucometer.

I know my body is overrun with stress hormones and I am sure it is messing up my blood sugar.  So what a perfect time to lose a glucometer.   I always keep it right next to my computer or right next to the bed.  These are both places where my cat (currently known as Douche) likes to sit.  Douche is black.  The glucometer is in a black case.  Guess how many times I’ve turned the apartment upside down trying to find the glucometer while Douche has been sitting on it, making the little zippered case one with her long (oily) black fur?  Of course when I finally figure out what she’s up to and catch her in the act, she pushes her nose up for some petting and gives me a look that says, I was just keeping it safe and warm for you.  Douche, Douche, Douchecat: glucometers are not eggs.  You do not need to sit on them.

Unfortunately, this time I can’t blame the cat for the missing glucometer.   It’s just disappeared into the chaos of my panic.  Fortunately, we’ve got at least 5 spare prickers (lancets) in the house, and Mike is always happy to share his test strips with me.  I’m taking a deep breath right now.