Noah's Publications & Manuscripts

Another Day In Paradise

(DESA Challenge article, Summer 2004)

The blue light of dawn cuts through the barred windows of my loft, bringing with it the first battle cries of the daily noise war between screaming, uniformed school children, packs of ferril dogs, and street vendors of every manner. I preform my 15 minute morning exercise and stretching program to work up an appetite for my 100 carbohydrate breakfast (eggs, bread and yoghurt), which runs up a pocket-draining bill of $1. Now to employ the most effective tool in my diabetes management bag-o-tricks: exercise.

Having reduced my Novolin N insulin dose to an almost non-diabetic quantity, I take my place at the head of a pack of salivating adventure-tourists as an Inuit voice in my head yells, "Mush!" The mountain-bikers are hot on my tail as we descend into the valley flanking Ba–os, Ecuador. For 17 kilometers they doggedly follow my lead through tunnels and construction sites, around cliffs' eroding faces, and behind the crystal bead cutains of waterfalls.

We trade our mud-splattered bikes for the more modern comforts of a 14-passenger van. Taking a bullet for the large group's comfort, I bring my replacement carbohydrate snack up to a swaying perch, two inflatable raft heights above the van's roof. In an hour we are river-side and I toss safety gear down to the anxious hands my dubious crop of virgin river rafters.

I am now hiding in the safe position of a paddle-raft captain, leading my six brave troops from the rear. Located behind the fray and melee of the front lines of the water fight, I plunge my brave little soldiers into gaping holes and shoot between rocky dropoffs, trying to find a healthy balance between fun and safety. When the mist and chaos dissapates, the surviving cadets are rewarded with the spoils of our victory: chocolate and peanuts. This replenishes enough muscle glycogen to make our bodies trudge the last 25 feet to the van heading to lunch.

Only half of my Novolog and Novolin doses are required for the traditional lunch of soup, salad, rice, meat and juice. I get the hour of frequently interupted sleep that the pot-hole scarred road allows on the way home. After unloading the equipment there is precious little time to skateboard with the boss' son before he treats me to dinner. My hints at complete physical exhaustion are ignored and the benevolent family drags me out to a discotheque to salsa and breakdance until hypoglycemia validates my resting.

This day, one of the more tame in the past month, spawned from my desire to visit South America and help diabetics on both continents through education, sending medical supplies and living a life free of all imagined limits posed by diabetes. Lifescan and Novo Nordisc believed in the cause and not only supplied me with the tools to make the journey possible, but offered aid to the clinics on my itinerary as well. The adventures I guided in Ba–os were offered partly because of previous experience, but mainly because the manager of the agency believed in the message I was trying to send: No dream is impossible. Don't let a limitless life pass you by.