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We found 7 result(s) that match your search "Battles":

Some thoughts I came up with today while working out on the beach.

 

The sun hits my face, the presence of the ocean waves is enough to make even the most unaware people stop and look and think. This place feels safe and powerful within me in the deepest parts of my existence. I sit down and face the infiniteness of the sea in front of me. It’s all around. Birds are soaring, some hunting, some settled in the sand protecting themselves from the unforgiving winds that race down the coast. The wind is blowing hard today, enough to knock a person down and remind them of who’s in charge. The air blows past me and through me like it doesn’t even know I’m there, flying over the earth with no purpose - no final destination, no end. It just blows just to blow. It’s beautiful.

 

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Susanne went to Children's Hospital to talk to a family therapist about Charlie. He's been crying a lot in school.

 

We do everything we can to make him feel like a normal boy, but let's be honest – living with diabetes is not normal. There are times when he must eat Jell-O in school rather than the cookies or pretzels he thought he was going to have.

 

So he cries. He rubs his eyes with his fists, runs into the hallway or bathroom and cries. Charlie's teacher has expressed that he's becoming more and more upset when high blood sugars prevent him from eating what he wants to eat. I'm sure the high blood sugar in itself contributes to his inability to control his emotions.

 

Susanne thought the meeting with the therapist went well.

 

Here are some "Don'ts" Susanne came away with:

 

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Considering the many battles that I fight with diabetes on any given day, I'm always pleased when things work out. I love success, in any shape or form. But especially in my diabetes world.

 

So Saturday night while I was visiting my dad, aunt and uncle, we decided to get Chinese food from a local restaurant (the best Chinese in all of Texas, I promise). I was definitely excited, but also silently stressing about how many carbs might be in my meal. Restaurant food is always hard to judge, but especially when it's something like Chinese at a small town joint that doesn't have carb counts available.

 

As I ordered my meal, I began to mentally guess the carbs. I'd splurged with my favorite: Sweet and Sour Chicken. It came with an eggroll and steamed rice. I was starting out my meal at 140, so whatever the carb count I'd need to add an extra unit to buffer the out of range blood sugar.

 

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(Continued From Previous Post)
I am dependent on insulin. But I am otherwise an incredibly independent person. I like taking risks - on my own. I enjoy the feeling of having accomplished something by my own will and my own action. I am more outgoing and more confident than I think I would have been if I'd not been diagnosed. A combination of wanting to be able to handle my disease on my own, without pity or judgment AND the experiences I had as a young woman - through the Clara Barton Camp and the ADA's Youth Congress - transformed me from a shy, albeit precocious kid, to a person who stands on her own. A person who keeps her head up and battles mightily - in the face of whatever wrong she sees and whatever challenges she faces. But would I trade my independence for a life without diabetes? I would - though again, who's to tell if something else might have brought me to this same place. (READ MORE)

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I've been in a mood all day and I think part of the reason is because I've been thinking about writing this post. This is not an easy subject to talk about and I realize that there are people who will vehemently disagree with me and others who will completely identify with what I'm about to say.

 

I've been thinking about writing a post like this for some time, but I don't think I had the nerve to put this out there for the whole internet world to read. But after a fairly intense discussion with sara n. dipity last week about food, food choices and, essentially, will power, I think it's time for me to go ahead and put it out there.

 

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Diabetes is a very physical disease. It loves to leave behind marks to show it was there. The strange "tells," "war wounds," and "evidence" that this disease is wreaking havoc on my body both internally and externally.

 

The easiest sign of diabetes is the calluses on my fingertips. They've been my biggest complaint with this disease (physically at least) since I can remember. I hate the way they mar my fingers with their tiny spots and uneven edges. It never can be skin against skin, smooth and simple. When I run my hands over anything, I feel the tips of my fingers drop their tiny hints of this disease.

 

As if my fingertips weren't beaten enough, my body has all the signs of needles and insertions. I have bruises galore. Plus the tiny red spots from infusion sites and syringes. And every three months, there's the bruise of getting blood drawn on the crease of my arm.

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My life is on a peg. It's hanging, waiting to be pulled off and move forward. But it's not there yet. I'm not there yet. I'm waiting, so impatient and so anxious for the future, so annoyed by the past...I'm waiting to move forward and be myself, to stop hanging on this peg.

 

The past three years have been an incredible roller coaster of a journey in regards to my health. I've made so many changes, tried so many things. And at what cost?

 

Right now, I'm extremely impatient with the future of my skin and the future of pain. I have some major decisions to make in the next couple of months...decisions that I wish I could have made months ago. I'm waiting on the endometriosis diagnosis/surgery. And I'm waiting to decide on Accutane/birth control pills...extremely impatient about this one.

 

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