Jessica Apple grew up in Houston. She studied Bible and Ancient Near Eastern Studies at the University of Michigan, and completed an MA in the same field at the Hebrew University. She began to write and publish short stories while a student, and has continued to write essays and fiction while raising her three sons (and many pets). Read full bio

How to Throw an Angry Birds Party

Mike and the boys

We had an Angry Birds Birthday party yesterday for our nine-year-old son.  It was terrific.  He called it “the best birthday ever.” 

If your kids love Angry Birds and you want to throw an easy Angry Birds party, I totally recommend this.  I bought two games, Angry Birds Knock on Wood and an Angry Birds card game.  The kids were very happy with both. 

Angry Birds tower with cardboard blocks

The DIY Angry Birds Game

I also made a homemade Angry Birds game.  I bought Melissa and Doug cardboard building blocks, an exercise resistance band (the flat kind without handles), two plush pigs, and three little Angry Birds balls.  We built towers with the cardboard blocks and knocked them down by using the little balls in our exercise band/launcher.  

One of the party’s highlights was the Angry Birds pizza.  It was also the most challenging part of the party for me.  I love pizza.  I miss pizza.  I can’t really handle being around it.  To make matters worse, it was 12:30 in the afternoon when we served pizza, and I hadn’t had a thing to eat all morning because I’d been so busy cleaning the house and preparing for the party.

Once the kids were all seated and eating, I did a wise thing.  Instead of going for the pizza, I took two big spoonfuls of almond butter and mixed them into a little bit of yogurt.  It’s definitely not the most delicious thing, but it is filling.  After I ate it I was so full I forgot all about the pizza craving.  As for the cake, I’ve always believed that I am entitled to a taste of any of my children’s birthday cakes.  This birthday, however, I wasn’t even tempted. 

Angry Birds Birthday Cake
The birthday cake!

  

 

Angry Birds Pizza
Angry Birds Pizza

 

King Pig Balloon
The birthday boy – sweet and embarrassed because I’m posing with a giant King Pig balloon in front of his friends.

 

As I cleaned up after the party, I thought about the fact that I hadn’t tasted the birthday cake.  It felt like I was breaking some kind of ritual – like not tasting the apples and honey on Rosh Hashana.  So I took a little, tiny crumb.  It wasn’t enough to taste anything.  So I took a quarter of a bite.  It was so sweet, I couldn’t believe it.  In the old days, there was no such thing as too sweet for me.  So I guess I’ve done it… I’ve overcome my love of sugar.  Then came time to clean up the pizza.  It was close to 5:00 pm and I was hungry again.  I broke down and ate a little, tiny piece of pizza.  It was cold and the sauce had too much oregano.  But it was good.  It was exactly what I needed.  I ordered my beta cells to wake up and secrete some insulin.  As usual, they were so disobedient!  

*Cake by Ugata

*Pizza by Giant Pizza

 

 

 

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Angry Birds Tower – DIY

Tomorrow is the Angry Birds birthday party.  I just built this.  What do you think?   The plan is to throw those balls at the tower.  How long can I keep a bunch of little boys busy throwing and rebuilding?  And what is my white wall going to look like at the end of the party?

Angry Birds Tower - DIY

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A Tuna Party and an Angry Birds Party

I posted an interview with Dan Masucci about his film, DxOne.  DxOne tells his family’s story about living with type 1 diabetes.  I loved Dan’s answers, and I encourage you to take a look at the interview and learn more about his film.

Now, on a totally different subject… it’s time to talk about parties – cat parties and kid parties.

1.Tuna Party

Tuna Parties haven’t really been the same since our cat Zoe passed away four years ago.  She was the queen cat in our brood of three, and reigned with a heavy paw.  She was lofty, and never sat on the floor.  In fact, she was always on a higher surface than the other cats.  If our black cat was on the study chair, then Zoe was on the desk.  If her son, Bougie, jumped onto the kitchen counter, then she’d jump onto the hood above the stovetop.  Everyone was beneath her, except when it came to tuna.  Tuna parties were the only occasions for which Zoe would come down and join the others.

Zoe was always the first in the house to detect the opening of a tuna can.  She had a dainty mew, waited somewhat patiently for her fish, and it was always a pleasure to serve her.  She ate neatly and when she was done she licked her paws and washed her face.  Four years after Zoe’s death, I still can’t throw a tuna party without missing her. 

March 10th was Bougie’s twelfth birthday.  It was a busy day, but I didn’t want to let it pass without a proper celebration.  Just before putting the kids to bed I grabbed a plastic bag and put it on the floor.  My plan, which I thought was brilliant at the time, was to feed the cats tuna on a big plastic bag and then just wad it up and throw it out.  No mess to clean. 

Mike, the kids, and even my mother-in-law were present for the party.  We sang a bunch of birthday songs and tried to keep the dog away from the party.  (Poor dog!)  The cats dined, and everything seemed good, until… I realized that slowly but surely the cats were making their way onto the plastic bag/tuna platter.  What that meant was tuna paws.  Tuna paws equals tuna footprints.  The moral of this story, then, is not to be lazy when it comes to feeding your cats tuna.  Use a real dish, even if it means you have to wash it.  And this relates to diabetes because it’s that same kind of laziness that gets me into diabetes trouble.  This is me telling myself not to try to skip steps.  It almost always ends up creating more work.

2. Angry Birds Party

Guy’s ninth birthday is Friday and we are planning to celebrate with an Angry Birds party.  He loves Angry Birds!  Loves them!  I bought cardboard building blocks to make little stands for the pigs (I don’t have pigs yet.  Any ideas on how to make some?)  I’m planning to use an exercise resistance band as a slingshot.  We’ve got some Angry Birds party supplies.  And we printed Angry Birds coloring pages which we’re going to use as decorations.  I think I’m ready for this.  I think so.   

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FDA to Discuss Making Popular Prescription Drugs Available to Hypochondriacs

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) will meet later this month to discuss making popular prescription drugs, like statins and some diabetes drugs, available over the counter.  According to a CBS News report, “The new industry-backed proposal is driven in part by a wave of computer technology, including touch-screen kiosks found in pharmacies, designed to help patients self-diagnose common diseases. Drugmakers could use electronic questionnaires, diagnostic devices like blood pressure monitors and other computer-assisted technology to guide patients.”

Yowzers!  While I’m certainly in favor of speeding up FDA approval process when it comes to life-saving drugs or devices like the artificial pancreas, I don’t know how I feel about the idea of over the counter drugs that treat complicated conditions.  I see the benefits of course – more people will have access to the drugs and it will be cheaper to get them.  But there are such big drawbacks.  Take me, for example.  Like others with a tendency towards hypochondria, my medical expertise comes from years of panic-induced disease-related Google searches, not from medical school.  Does the world really want the likes of me self-treating?  Me?  Self-treating on the basis of a blood pressure monitor in Walgreen’s?  First of all, I don’t believe the monitor works because I swear I just saw eight-year-old twin boys jabbing paperclips under the buttons, but I’ll try it anyway.  Second of all, I get anxious before any kind of medical test.  Given my anxiety, my blood pressure might rise.  Let’s see… OMG… I have high blood pressure! 

What should I do?  Is high blood pressure the same thing as hypertension?   I’ll ask the woman next to me who is shopping for a toothbrush.  She looks pretty smart, and I like her shoes.  Or maybe I’ll just grab some blood pressure medicine.  Beta blockers, right?  Or am I getting confused with beta cells?  Crap.  I just remembered high blood pressure increases risk of heart failure and stroke, so I should probably grab a statin, too, in case I feel some chest pains later.  Except I recall something about statins causing diabetes in some people.  I guess I don’t have to worry about that… but what if they make my insulin resistance worse?  I should also buy metformin.  If I notice my blood sugar numbers creeping up, I’ll just start taking it.   

When I get home I can take out all of my new medications and read the package inserts carefully.  I’m quite prone to the power of suggestion, so I’m likely to feel side effects from the medications just from reading about them.  After glancing at the warnings about my statin and metformin I have muscle pain, a rash, and nausea.  I’m so itchy!  I rush back to Walgreen’s to buy a supply of pills and creams to quell the side effects of my new drug regimen.    Wow, this self-treating business can get expensive.  But at least I’m decreasing doctor visits, which according to CBS News, the FDA believes could be beneficial.  At least I’m not giving away my money to those doctors!  Who needs them anyway when we have electronic questionnaires and computer-assisted technology to guide patients?  And don’t forget, we have Google.

 

 

 

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The Day Diabetes Went Away: Reflections on Purim

As a child, Purim meant something major to me: queen for a day.  Every year as I prepared my Queen Esther costume, my grandmother and I went through her drawers until we found her fancy pink sweater with metallic threading (which I wore as a dress).  She let me choose accessories and lipstick, too.  To some people I might not have looked noble, but my grandmother told me I looked like a beautiful queen and I was happy to believe her.  The rest of Purim with my grandmother involved avoiding her hamantashen, which were not cookies of any sort, but rather tasteless bread dough stuffed with homemade jam so thick it could have clogged a drain.

For the most part, I forgot about Purim until I became a mother.  The year my oldest son was two was the first year I had a costume for him – a Thomas the Tank Engine Engineer’s costume.  I was eight months pregnant with my second son at that time, and as I dressed my son in his Thomas costume and prepared him for his morning at nursery school, I began to feel as if I was going into labor.  Mike was out of town, so I called my mother-in-law to take my son to school.  I called Mike and told him to come home.  I went to the hospital.   

As it became clear to me that I was going to give birth a full month early, I started to worry about having a premature newborn.  Would he be okay?  Was he really ready to come out?  And then I started to feel guilty.  I was terribly uncomfortable and must have wished a hundred times a day for a speedy pregnancy.  And worse than uncomfortable, I’d also been diagnosed with gestational diabetes and had started using insulin.  I hated it.  I wanted the pregnancy to be over and I wanted diabetes to go away.  Deep down inside I don’t think I believed diabetes was really going to go away forever, but at the time, the possibility that it might was giving me strength.  As my labor began, I was secretly celebrating -on and off – the fact that I was getting out of a month’s worth of injections.  Then my good sense would reclaim me and I’d focus again on the fear of having a premature baby.  But the thought of diabetes going away was so spectacular, it was hard to push it aside completely.

I ended up having a c-section.  My son was born just over six pounds, and after one night in an incubator he was fine.  My recovery took a little longer, but my blood sugar levels seemed fairly normal.  I’d begun the Purim celebrations as a pregnant diabetic.  When the holiday was over, it was as if I’d been masquerading as both. 

 

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Sugarless Tuesdays: A Teaching Moment for Type 1 Diabetics

Paula Deen doesn’t understand very much about diabetes.  That’s the feeling I was left with after interviewing her a few weeks ago.  She was delightful to talk to – warm, charming, and eager to share.  It’s no surprise she’s incredibly popular.  I could have listened to her for hours.  What made me sad, though, as I listened to Paula speak was the fact that she felt getting diabetes was an inevitable part of growing old.  Then at the end of our conversation Paula said something that made me more than just sad.  It made me cringe.  Paula said,”My goal at the end of my life…If you hear the name Paula Deen, what is the first thing you think of?  I hope it’s not butter. ”  Of course, I can understand that – who wants to be eternally associated with churned milk, right?  But what I wanted Paula to have said was not that she feared being remembered as the queen of butter.  I wanted her to say she feared an everlasting association with sugar. 

Paula Deen, don’t worry about the butter.  The problem with your recipes is the refined carbohydrates and sugar.

I’m not the first person to say this.  While there have been hundreds of articles written in the last month calling fat a culprit in Paula Deen’s diabetes, a few have also spoken up in fat’s defense.  David Mendosa, an avid low-carber said he doesn’t blame Paula for “the fat and salt in her recipes, but all the carbs.”  And a few days ago I read an article by Dr. Jonny Bowden, Paula Deen: The Lost Teaching Moment. This is his main point:

“Paula Deen is not diabetic because she eats too much butter. She’s not diabetic because she cooks with too much fat. She’s not diabetic because she eats “unhealthy” stuff like meat. She’s diabetic because her body can’t effectively process sugar.  Period.  In fact, if all she ate was fat and protein, we probably wouldn’t be having this discussion. (But of course, there would also be no Paula Deen show.)  Diabetes educators, the American Diabetes Association, and virtually everyone else in the mainstream is jumping on her high-fat cooking as the “cause” of her diabetes, but nothing could be further from the truth. Fat is NOT the enemy in the American diet. Fat doesn’t make you fat, and it most certainly doesn’t make you diabetic.  Let me explain.  Type 2 diabetes is a disease of carbohydrate intolerance. Not fat intolerance. Not protein intolerance. Carbohydrate intolerance. And the reason the “teaching moment” is being lost here is because everyone is parroting the same old, past-its-expiration-date garbage about the “dangers” of fat, while ignoring the simple fact that it is carbohydrates — especially sugar and processed carbs — that create the blood sugar havoc that ultimately results in diabetes.”

Now I know that Dr. Bowden is oversimplifying.  It’s not only a sugar-rich diet that leads to type 2 diabetes, however, it is certainly a major contributing factor in many cases.  Something I’ve thought about many times since I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes is how much I’ve learned about carbohydrates and carbohydrate metabolism.  Even if you disagree with me that eating fat is okay, consider this point seriously for a moment: Who knows the effect of carbs on the human body better than a person with type 1 diabetes (or the caregiver of a person with type 1 diabetes)?  I believe the answer is no one.  We’re the world’s experts. Who among us does not know the effect of a cupcake on blood sugar levels versus the effect of a steak on blood sugar levels?  Doesn’t this knowledge make us natural teachers?  Is the teaching moment being lost not on Paula Deen but on us?

Not sure what needs to be taught? 

Like it or not (and believe me, I wish this weren’t true!), sugar is toxic to our bodies, and not just if you have diabetes.  In a recent article in Nature, Dr. Robert H. Lustig and his colleagues called for government regulation of “added sugar”, as there is with alcohol and tobacco.  Their argument is essentially that the metabolic effect of sugar, particularly fructose, is equal to that of ethanol (drinking alcohol).  Regulation, they suggest, “could include tax, limiting sales during school hours and placing age limits on purchase.”

I once argued for something along the same lines when I objected to a proposed soda tax on the basis that not just sodas, but all sugars, should be treated equally, as we treat all cigarette brands equally. I wrote, “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 a considerable reduction in the consumption of all junk food.”

But even the tollbooth is not enough.  None of it will work without education.  And don’t think those  little black and white nutritional labels on our junk food are meaningful education.  How many people look at those labels before purchasing a product?  My guess is very few.  The reason is because we don’t view our food products something dangerous, poisonous, or something that requires review.  We assume that what’s for sale in our supermarket is okay for us to eat. We also assume that if people were to read nutrition labels, they would understand them. Not true.  Moreover, how many people know that refined carbohydrates and sugar are the same to our bodies?  Do the people who drink six cans of soda a day have any idea what 28 grams of sugar per can means?  If we labeled soda cans with a skull and cross bones instead of “20 grams sugar,” maybe people would get it.

I’m not, however, really a fan of scare tactics.  I also find it hard to believe that the majority of our society will ever be able to “fear” sugar.  But we who truly know the effects of sugar in the body can begin the long and difficult process of educating people.  We can bring diabetes awareness to a whole new level.

I’m not suggesting we follow or promote one diet or another.  I’m not suggesting that we all treat our diabetes in the exact same way.  No two bodies are alike.  The one thing, however, that we do all have in common, is our inability to metabolize sugar. Then why do we boast that we can eat whatever we want?  Why do we get angry and defensive when someone asks “Should you be eating that cake?”  We should do the hard thing and say “No, I shouldn’t be eating this cake, and neither should you.”

It’s not easy.  It’s anything but easy.  I have been able to reduce my sugar intake to close to zero, though I have days when I fail.  What I haven’t been able to do is prevent my children from eating sugar.  Part of that is because I don’t want to make my sons “different.”  I don’t want them to feel deprived.  But another reason is that while I can stop myself from eating sweet food, I haven’t succeeded in changing in the way I think about it.  I can’t imagine a birthday party without a cake.  I can’t really imagine a world without dessert, if not for me, then for others.  I want to be able to change the way I think about food. 

So, facing my own weakness, I come back now to the “teaching moment.”  Do we who understand the effects of sugar on the human body in the most intimate way have a responsibility to speak up and help the dozens of millions of type 2 diabetics and pre-diabetics?  If we are real trailblazers who are going to make a difference in diabetes awareness, I think the answer is yes.

In November 2010, to mark Diabetes Awareness Month, I started a Facebook page called Eat Responsibly.  I hoped hundreds of thousands of people would support the campaign, however, fewer than 40 people “liked” it.  Perhaps this coming November we can raise the bar.  Awareness needs to be more than promoting a symbol or a color.  We need to take action. In the meantime, would you join me in Sugarless Tuesdays? (Note: In case of hypoglycemia, please do have sugar!)  One a day a week without sugar and junk food.  Can we do it?

 For more on the dangers of sugar (and the defense of fat) visit Peter Attia’s blog, War on Insulin.

Graph from Nature:  http://www.nature.com/nature/journal/v482/n7383/full/482027a.html

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To All the Carbs I’ve Loved Before

This is my diabetes cover of the Willie Nelson – Julio Iglesias song “To All the Girls I’ve Loved Before.”  I don’t really know where this came from.  My best guess is that it was inspired by Glee, which I’ve been watching this week. (It’s such a good show!) 

If you, like me, have given up most carbs but still hold them dear to your heart, then please sing along with me.  This is a delightful way to show your appreciation to the cookies, pizza, and focaccia of your past.

To all the carbs I’ve loved before
Who traveled in and out my door
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the carbs I’ve loved before

To all the carbs I’d once digest
And may I say I’ve had the best
For helping me to grow
I owe a lot I know
To all the carbs I’ve loved before

The blood sugar levels are always varying
Even when insulin has its way
The blood sugar levels continue varying
And diabetes just won’t go away

To all the carbs who shared my life
Who now do nothing but cause me strife
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the carbs I’ve loved before

To all the carbs who fattened me
Who filled my belly with ecstasy
They live within my heart
I’ll always be a part
Of all the carbs I’ve loved before

The blood sugar levels are always varying
Even when insulin has its way
The blood sugar levels continue varying
And diabetes just won’t go away

To all the carbs I’ve loved before
Who traveled in and out my door
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the carbs I’ve loved before

To all the carbs I’ve loved before
Who traveled in and out my door
I’m glad they came along
I dedicate this song
To all the carbs I’ve loved before

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The Anfield Cat and What I Forgot

I am one of over 38,000 people following Anfield Cat on Twitter (@anfieldcat).  Anfield Cat, the cat who ran onto the field during a soccer game between Liverpool and Tottenham, is not the first tweeting cat in my life.  For some time I’ve been following @CatFoodBreath.  And yesterday when I felt a little clump of something in my mouth and began to gag, one CatFoodBreath’s tweets proved true: “A new study determined that over 60% of meals consumed by cat owners have cat fur as an ingredient.” 

If only carbs had the same effect on my mouth as cat hair.  

If only I hadn’t attempted to bake a sweet treat for my sons yesterday…

But it was one of those days when the weather was so bad we were stuck indoors.  It wasn’t the kind of bad weather you’re thinking of, not rain or sleet, but a dust storm that blew over from North Africa.  The sky was yellow.  Air pollution.  I could smell the dust.  Everyone was sneezing.  Everything felt yucky.  So naturally, the thing to do on such a day is to say to your sons, “Who wants chocolate chip blondies?” 

I went about making my usual eggless blondies recipe.  (It’s eggless not because of an egg allergy, but because cracking eggs repulses me.) I had the ingredients out and after I mixed them all together something seemed wrong.  Something seemed really wrong.  The dough was paler than usual and the texture wasn’t right.  Had I forgotten something?  I went over the ingredients in my head: flour, baking powder, butter, yogurt, vanilla, chocolate chips.  No, I hadn’t forgotten anything.  I double checked myself and went over the ingredients again.  I had put everything into the batter.  Sometimes these things happen, I told myself.  Batters don’t always look exactly the same.  I put the blondies in the oven.

Thirty minutes later some seriously weird looking blondies were cooling on the counter.  Mike came home, looked at them and asked, “Did you forget one of the ingredients?” 

“No,” I said.  “I went over everything in my head a few times.  It’s all there.”

I began to rattle off the ingredients. 

“Sugar.” Mike said.  “Did you put in any sugar?”

“Oh my god!” 

I panicked, not because I’d ruined the blondies, but because I was afraid I had some sort of dementia.  How could I have forgotten the sugar?  How could I have drawn such a blank?   It’s true I’ve sworn off eating sugar, but I didn’t know I’d also completely wiped it from my mind.  Is this what diabetes does to you if you take it as seriously as you should? I felt as stunned and confused as that poor cat on the soccer field must have felt.

“They might still taste good,” Mike said.  “Try one.”

The blondies were warm and buttery.  Bland, but not bad.  I finished one, probably exceeding my daily carb limit in five little bites.  But they were sugar-free, and if I was already eating white flour, why not have another?  So I did.  And then my blood sugar shot up.  And then I went low and shaky so I ate another blondie.  I got into bed exhausted and feeling like crap.  I slept well until my cat pushed me off the bed just after dawn. 

When Mike came home from his early morning run I showed him the clip of Anfield Cat.  Then I checked up on  CatFoodBreath and found out he’s tweeting haikus.  I can’t quite explain why, but that makes me really happy.

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UnScientific American: What About Vitamin D and Type 1 Diabetes?

I get a lot of crap from Mike (in a joking way) about not being a “real” type 1 diabetic.  Why am I not the real thing?  Because technically I have LADA, or a slow-onset form of autoimmune diabetes.  What this means is that while Mike’s diabetes onset was a blitzkrieg, my diabetes has for the most part been attacking at a leisurely pace. 

I know that I’ve had LADA for over 11 years, although I only received my official diagnosis three years ago.  Until my official diagnosis I had two gestational diabetes diagnoses.  When my not-pregnant routine blood tests showed slightly-off fasting blood sugar levels, doctors assumed I was on my way to type 2 diabetes.   If I’d been overweight or more sedentary, my LADA may have presented with symptoms.  But, no.  During all those years of beta cell decline, I didn’t have solid evidence anything serious was going on.  I often felt tired.  Who doesn’t, right?

As it goes with LADA, things have gotten worse.  Last year various, unscientific experiments  I conducted on myself showed that my beta cells could handle up to 12 grams of carb mixed with fat without injecting any rapid insulin.  Any more than that and I was sure to see a number over 140.  This seems not to be the case anymore.  The proof is in the whole grain bread, of which I ate about 12 grams of the other day, smeared with a lot of butter.  Thirty minutes later my blood sugar was 157.

Now, that 157 doesn’t mean that LADA has totally won (yet). My immune system is currently enrolled in a domestic violence program for batterers.  And if that fails, there’s the hope that I could get some Diapep277, which might slow the progression of diabetes.  And there’s something else I’m doing to try to save my remaining beta cells: I take vitamin D.  

So, why am I bringing all of this up now? An article in the current issue of Scientific American is called Diabetes Mystery: Why  Are Type 1 Cases Surging?  An excellent question for which the author, Maryn McKenna, offers up a very weak answer.   “Recently the search for a cause behind the rise of type 1 diabetes has taken an unexpected turn. Some investigators are reconsidering the role of an old adversary: being overweight or obese,” McKenna writes.  The theory is that an overweight person produces extra insulin, which causes beta cell stress.  McKenna says this idea  is called the accelerator or overload hypothesis.  She quotes Rebecca Lipton, an emeritus professor at the University of Chicago who says that “if you have a kid who is chubby, that extra adiposity is going to challenge the pancreatic beta cells.  In a child who has already started the autoimmune process, those beta cells are just going to fail more quickly, because they are being forced to put out more insulin than in a thin child.”

And that’s pretty much where McKenna’s argument ends (and I actually found her paragraph unclear overall…).  She doesn’t offer any evidence of studies that show children with a high BMI are more likely to develop type 1 diabetes.  Furthermore, nowhere in her article does she mention vitamin D, or the lack thereof, as a possible cause for the rise in type 1 diabetes incidence.*  And there is very good reason to bring up vitamin D.   A study of Finnish babies published in 2001 in the Lancet suggested, “Dietary vitamin D supplementation is associated with reduced risk of type 1 diabetes. Ensuring adequate vitamin D supplementation for infants could help to reverse the increasing trend in the incidence of type 1 diabetes.”   A very recent study indicates an association between lower maternal serum concentrations of vitamin D during pregnancy and increased risk of type 1 diabetes development in childhood.  And currently, a Canadian pediatric endocrinologist, Dr. Shanye Tacback is seeking $10 million in research funding in order to give babies at high risk of type 1 diabetes as much as 2,000 IU a day of vitamin D as a means of preventing type 1 diabetes. 

Whether or not it’s been proven, I believe the vitamin D supplement I take does help my beta cells.  Maybe it’s just wishful thinking.  But maybe not.  In my next unscientific experiment I plan to start taking an omega 3 supplement. 

*Dan Hurley’s book Diabetes Rising has a good discussion of five leading hypotheses for the rise in type 1 diabetes: accelerator hypothesis, sunshine hypothesis, hygiene hypothesis, cow’s milk hypothesis and POP (persistent organic pollutants) hypothesis.

 

 

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Is Paula Deen For Real?

Hi Y’all,

I’m from Texas, so that was genuine.  I’m not making fun of Paula Deen.  In fact, unlike practically everyone else in America right now, I’m giving Paula a big thumb’s up.  I think she deserves it for coming out with her type 2 diabetes diagnosis.  Yes, I know Paula’s coming out story has a big paycheck attached to it, and I know it came three years after her diagnosis, but I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume that as the new spokeswoman for Novo Nordisk (a drug company I admire) Paula is going to make a difference in the giant world of diabetes.  I am willing to believe that we’ll see good things, not just drug pushing in the months to come.

I know those are big assumptions.  But we’re talking about Paula Deen, a woman who went from nothing to everything.  She’s captured the attention of millions and millions of people.  If she’s given bad advice in the past, she now has the power to undo it and use her influence to put people on the path to better health.  Paula must want to do this, otherwise why would she come out with her diagnosis at all?  She’s smart enough to know that ridicule would come with her diabetes announcement.  Surely she anticipated the finger-pointing and blame that would come her way.  And she still had the courage to do it.  Well funded courage, but courage nonetheless.

I’ve never seen Paula Deen’s show, nor have I ever been interested in her until now.  I’ve never tried her recipes. The only thing I can say about them after clicking through her website for a few minutes is that they don’t seem any worse to me than those of the very, very popular Pioneer Woman who, like Paula, can be seen on the Food Network.  (Have you seen the Pioneer Woman’s recipe for Dr. Pepper shredded pork?  It contains two cans of Dr. Pepper and two tablespoons of brown sugar… and it’s a main course, not dessert!)

But does it help in any way to blame Paula or the Pioneer Woman for America’s obesity and type 2 diabetes epidemic?  Not really.  At least they’re at home cooking and encouraging people to cook.  That’s a step or two above McDonald’s.  And at least they’re honest.  Paula Deen’s sweet tea, which she claims to have given up since diabetes, contains just under a tablespoon of sugar, according to the New York Times.  Sweet tea is what it is.  The name says it all.  Compare that now to a container of Yoplait yogurt.  You think Yoplait is healthy, right?  It says 99% fat free on the front of the container.  That makes you think it’s good for you.  But one itty bitty container of Yoplait yogurt has 33 grams of carb, 26 of which are sugar.  26 grams of sugar!  That’s over two tablespoons. (The light version has 20 grams of carb, 15 of which are sugar.)  The so-called healthful yogurt has more than twice as much sugar as Paula’s sweet tea.  Yoplait and companies like it, not Paula Deen, are the ones screwing with our heads.

Before we laugh at Paula Deen, let’s give her a chance.  There’s nothing funny about diabetes and often the people suffering from it, or at high risk, are hard to reach.  Education is scare.  People don’t understand just how dangerous diabetes is, and also how well it can be managed.  Paula has an audience with an appetite and she’s got Big Pharma funding.  If she can get people to soak up diabetes information, give up sweet drinks and walk a mile a day, she may very well prevent them from getting diabetes.  Paula Deen, if you’re reading this, please don’t underestimate your power.  You can get in where doctors can’t.  You can save toes, eyes, and kidneys.  You can save lives.

The Paula Deen persona America loves doesn’t speak to me.   I’m a serious low-carber who weighs 90 pounds, exercises, and has never had a taste for burgers, let alone Paula’s burgers covered in bacon and eggs.  And unlike Paula,  I’ve gone far from my southern roots.  But what does speak to me is change.  I’m betting on Paula.  I’m counting on her.  If she doesn’t come through, I’ll have to eat these words.  My words, fortunately, are both calorie and carb-free.       

 

 

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