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We found 3 result(s) that match your search "Booze":

It's been awhile. The whirlwind that is life took over for a spell. To avoid another takeover, I'm committing to twenty-six letters. A through Z. One letter at least every other day - each representing a word that relates to living with diabetes or being touched by diabetes.
You might think that A, naturally, would be A1C. You know? That number that supposedly gives you an idea of you how you're managing. But A won't be A1C today. Because, although I believe it's important to know your A1C and keep your number in order, there is, I believe, a more important A. And that's accountability.
Sometimes diabetes throws a curve-ball. Sometimes, it seems, no matter what we do, our blood sugar has a mind of its own. It swoops or peaks for no apparent reason. (READ MORE)

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I'll admit it. I'm a big fan of cheap wine. Yummy. Give me some Boones Farm Strawberry Zinfandel on a hot summer night, and I'll get my buzz on - and get it on good. And I used to, back in the day, enjoy a nice cigarette (or ten) with my wine. Even now, every so often, I'll get a craving for a cigarette. Thankfully, the urge is usually cured by the smell of a heavy smoker passing by and occasionally cured by a simple, single drag on another person's gross-stick. (READ MORE)

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I am going to begin this, my very first blog post here, with a confession.
I have fallen off the wagon.
Not the booze wagon; even before my type 2 diagnosis in February 2006, my drinky drink days were mostly behind me. (College was fun, from what I remember.) No, the wagon I have fallen off of is the healthy living, weight-losing, diabetic-under-control wagon.
When I was diagnosed last year, my a1c was hovering above 10, and I was about 35 pounds overweight. I was also terrified. I was 38 years old, with that big number (let's call it "thirty-ten") lurking in the near future. My own father died at the age of fifty-one after about twenty years of poorly managed diabetes. I was determined that this wouldn't be me. (READ MORE)

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