HAWMC Day 22 – Dessert Island

HAWMC_Day 22

My chosen prompt from the Wego Health challenge today is to talk about the things I can’t live without – things I need or love the most. 

IslandYou know the game: “Desert Island“? You have to choose things that you would take with you if you were  hypothetically stranded. (It’s not like you pack to be stranded when you head off on a vacation, right?) Some people vary the game with “pick your albums/songs” or “pick your alcoholic beverage”, but I’m going to go with just my little list of necessities…and it’s not a desert island. It’s dessert island. (That’s how I spelled it when I was seven. ) My dessert island is called Crème Brûlée, because we would eat gobs of it every night and never gain any weight.

In no particular order:

Diet Coke (with Splenda) – I’m the person at the restaurant who, when asked by the waitress, “Is Diet Pepsi O.K.?”, smiles sweetly, says: “Nope. Water, then.” After giving birth to a gorgeous girl, my husband heightened my happiness with an ice cold can of this liquid crack. I prefer Diet Coke with Splenda because aspartame tastes gross and does funny things to my head in large quantities. Diet Coke was presented to the public in August of 1982. I was diagnosed in April of 1983. It was my drink of choice from the first days after diagnosis and with the exception of my pregnancy, you can guarantee that there’s a can close by my body. (Yes, I know I should drink more water. Thank you. There’s water in Diet Coke and I get caffeine to boot. Kill two birds with one stone.)

The Kiddo and The Hubby – If I get to choose, then they’re coming with me. You have to ask why? I need snuggles on my dessert island. They are experts. And someone needs to rub lotion onto my back. And fetch soda. And wave palm fronds to keep me cool. Kid or husband? Both. Truly, they are my loves beyond all love. And I wouldn’t go anywhere if they weren’t there. (But perhaps an occasional babysitter would be nice?)

The Eclectic Music Collection That I’ve Hoarded Over the Years – All of it. All my music. David Bowie (skip the 80s, please), The Beatles, Black Flag, The Pixies, Hüsker Dü, Stone Roses, Muse, Queen, The Grateful Dead, Vivaldi’s Gloria in D, The Toadies, The Beastie Boys (moment of silence for MCA), Arcade Fire, Ofra Haza, Camper Van, The Cure, Elvis (both Presley and Costello), CaminaBurana, Foo Fighters, The Killers, and a single Ke$ha song so that I can remind myself there is also bad music you can dance to. I’ve got play lists to pump me up, calm me down, sing with, wail with, and close my eyes to appreciate the beauty that is created by artists of the aural kind. I’m an equal opportunity fan. No gospel (the closest I get is Johnny Cash) and no country (the closest I get is Johnny Cash). But all else. Give me a set of speakers and my collection and I’m happy.

A Five Star Resort – Do you really think I’m roughing it on my desert dessert island? This is my fantasy, people. I want fluffy pillows and high thread counts for my comfy bed. Fresh towels. A cool glass of water infused with cucumber or lemon when I do want to switch out my Diet Coke with Splenda. I love being pampered. Can I live without it? Sure. But I love it. (And I’m supposed to pick what I love.)

My Friends And Family – All of them. They’ve been with me through the bad times. Being stuck on a desert island isn’t being “stuck” if you have everyone you love with you. (And at a five star resort.)

Large Canvases and Unlimited Access to Painting Supplies – I suck at it, but I love to paint. Hell, I love art of all shapes and kinds. It’s a cathartic creative outlet. I’m an acrylics girl who prefers abstract art and mixed media with various mediums and someday, I’ll be able to take it up again when I’ve got time. Seeing as I’ll be on a desert island, I figure I’ll have a few days to scratch that itch.

Pump, CGM, Insulin, Blood Glucose Meter, Blood Glucose Strips, Lancets, Infusion Sets, Sensors, IV Prep, Alcohol Swabs, Glucose Tabs, Juice Boxes, Syringes (just in case), Ketone Strips… – Forget it. I can’t carry all that. So, on my dessert island, I’m not going to have Type 1 diabetes. I’m also going to be tall and limber and late for my Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition photo shoot. And twenty-four again. (That was a good year.)

Wanna come with me? Bring an extra bag, because I think my luggage will be full.

 

 

 

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