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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "Anxiety":

I hate today.

 

My annual eye exam is this afternoon and every time I have to have this done, it seems I get more freaked out about it. I have a “thing” about my eyes. Let me put it to you this way, the first time I got contact lenses it took me literally 1 hour to get one in! It's embarrassing to admit that but it is the truth.

 

The fear I have is two fold. The uncomfortable procedure itself and whatever the doctor will find.

 

I cannot stand those thick eye drops. It is like molasses. Thick sticky muck being dropped in my eyes. I hate it. And it stings. At least to me it stings and there is little worse then eyes that are stinging in my humble opinion.

 

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Been having weird dreams... Guess I'm a little anxious about the endo tomorrow... So in honor of odd dreams and anxiety:
Twas the night before my endo appointment, when all through the place Not a meter was stirring, had my pump at my waist My gym clothes were tucked in my backpack with care, And I hoped that my work would show on the scale.
And I was nestled all snug in my bed, While visions of low A1Cs danced in my head. And me in my 'kerchief, and Bob in his cap, Had just settled our brains for an early fall nap.
When in a weird dream there arose such a clatter, The doctor he told me everything was the matter. He said that my A1C had risen so fast, And my weight was through the roof, I was simply aghast.
The moon it showed down as I tossed to and fro The bad news continued from my dreamland endo. When, what to my sleeping brain did appear But a 400 plus cholesterol number, and my control-loss so clear. (READ MORE)

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I had to pick Olivia up from school again today because her stomach was nauseous again. She's been on a course of Zantac for a couple of weeks now and it seemed to work for a while. This is the first time she's felt this bad. She told me last night that her stomach was a little sore, but not queasy.

So, I'm off to the store to get more Zantac (and pump batteries, which seem to have disappeared - I'm blaming my husband and all of his electronic gadgets) and I'm logging (I know!!!) all of her food. I haven't logged actual food in a while - just carbs. Thank goodness I have a good spreadsheet for all this. I'm just going to leave it open on the computer all day. Hopefully that will prompt me to get the stuff in there on a daily basis rather than slacking and then playing catch up. She's never going to remember what she ate yesterday and I certainly don't expect her to.
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See that cat, he's jumping for joy - in spite of early-morning stressors...
I thought for sure I was going to be late.
I got in my car at 7:20 - I'd have enough time to make it into Providence for my 8:00 appointment with the doc - with time to spare. But there was traffic. A lot of it.
I was fairly certain my blood pressure would be through the roof when I finally arrived at the doctor's office 5 minutes late. (READ MORE)

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"I want you to walk ahead of me in case I get stopped," I said to The Mr. We were standing in one of the "expert traveler" lines at the security checkpoint at LAX. Although I had been searched twice in my last three air travels, I thought I was free since I had gotten through security the last time without being searched.

 

It was particularly dark in this part of the airport. I was particularly emotional having dealt with a screaming No. 3 for about 45 minutes. We had been on vacation and she was completely off schedule and crabby. I had a feeling that I was going to get stopped coming through the security tent.

 

"I have an insulin pump," I said, holding my pump up for the screener to see. A mantra I had tried and not tried each time I went through security.

 

"OK, come on through," she said.

 

I beeped. I knew it.

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I'm reading a new book now thanks to Oprah and the internet. I was cruising around the other day on MSN and I noticed a headline that caught my attention. It said something like "Oprah's Book Club takes on a new book". So I took it upon myself (I was bored and procrastinating) to check it out and it turned out to be a real eye opener. The book is called, "A NEW EARTH, Awakening to Your Life's Purpose" by Eckhart Tolle. I had never heard of this guy so I checked him out a little bit.
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I decided to try the bioidentical hormone treatment. After reading books, studies and general information, I feel that I made an educated decision. I went to a seminar and personally talked to the doctor who founded the clinic. I spent hours on the web looking through positive and negative feedback from research studies, personal stories and major medical journals. And I used my brain.

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Things just keep getting better and better around here. (to be read in a dripping-with-sarcasm tone of voice.)

I got a phone call from the nurse this morning that Olivia had shown up in her office shortly after gym started, complaining of shortness of breath. The nurse took her blood pressure and it was 120/100. I called Olivia's pediatrician. Four bp readings later, she was 120/96. And no one has a clue as to what's going on.

She says she feels fine. She doesn't feel like her heart is racing, she doesn't feel sick, nothing. She hadn't even started running around in gym when this happened.

The pediatrician didn't want to see her today. She suggested I have the school nurse check Olivia's blood pressure tomorrow, a couple of times during the day. She also said that if it flared up again tonight, that I was to take her to the ER.

Blah.
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Blogging is difficult for me sometimes. Don't get me wrong, I love this website and everyone associated with the Blogabetes community. Each and every one of you continue to be an enormous help. I can come on here and rant and rave to the ENTIRE WORLD about my life with diabetes. I make friends, I laugh, I tear up, and it's all wonderful. It's fantastic and I have no doubt this will continue to be an extremely helpful thing for me and everyone else too. At times though, the only thing I crave is complete and utter privacy, freedom from the world of diabetes and from everything. The last thing on my mind is the desire to share one more personal diabetic experience with the world. (READ MORE)

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I knew he was high when I walked in the door;

His body was twitching, there was nary a snore.

His complexion was rosy, his hair dampened black;

I knew he was high before the pricker went "clack!"

The horrible number stayed like a tattoo,

Spitefully showcasing 392.

With insulin active, we gave it an hour

And whispered a prayer to a higher power.

I awoke from a dream that Obama had won

When Susanne said, "Carey! He's 421!"

I stumbled to his bedside, my wits on the fringe;

Susanne poured juice and loaded a syringe.

I pinched some plump flesh on the back of his arm,

Inserted the needle, then set my alarm.

2:30 am - I walked through a fog,

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