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

When I tell my "real-life" friends stories about my friends from the Diabetes Online Community (DOC), I'm often told that my stories make these people sound real.
"Well," I say, "They are real. In many ways more real than some people I've met face to face."
I usually get the look then. The one that says: Nicole has been spending too much time online. Nicole's friends all live in the box.
That's the furthest thing from the truth. I mean - really - who can spend too much time online? And my friends don't live in the box, they just talk to me through it. Right?
I'm getting to the point. Patience. (READ MORE)

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I went to get the mail today and found a package from Minimed. It wasn't the normal size box for Olivia's pump supplies and we've already received our Care Link doo-hickey (technical term, that - doohickey. The whatsit that you download pump info from. I think. I haven't actually used it yet. I keep forgetting....)

 

Anyway, inside the box was a brand new One Touch Ultra that beams blood sugar readings directly to Olivia's pump. Yay! I was all happy. I thought it would be great, that Olivia wouldn't forget about putting her blood sugars in, since the meter would do it for her.

 

Oh, how wrong I was. I gave it to her, all eager to see her reaction, since when the BD meter went away, she was very upset. But no.

 

"It's not green!" she exclaimed. "And it's not tiny." And she sort of flung it aside, sighing in exasperation.

 

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The past weekend I spent 3 days at a Christian Camp in the mountains working at a retreat called Via de Cristo or Cursillo. Some you may have heard of it before. It is one of many 3 day movements around the world used to rekindle the fire of ones faith. My wife and I attended Via de Cristo, which is a co-ed non denominational version of Cursillo, a few years back and try to serve on the team at least once a year for new people going through the experience. (READ MORE)

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Diabetes has had us back on our heels and off-balance since school started. Charlie has had very high blood sugars. In turn, we're doing a lot of guessing. Guessing is not a great strategy when dealing with a major disease. Such is life with diabetes.

It is during these times that diabetes likes to send a message. It likes to bring you down to size and remind you that you're not in control. Just as we were about to make changes to deal with the constant highs, the unexpected sound of panic lifts me from my chair.

"Carey! Juice box now!!! He's very low!!!"

I pop from my chair like a firefighter responding to an alarm and grab two juice boxes. I can hear Susanne's voice growing louder as I make my way upstairs.

"CHARLIE! CHARLIE! I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP!"

"CHARLIE!"

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Like many in the diabetes community, my wife and I were pretty disturbed when we heard the premise of Hannah Montana's "No Sugar, Sugar" episode that was scheduled to air last night.

 

The episode tackles the issue of juvenile diabetes, but not as we know it to be. A major, recurring character on the show gets diabetes. Oliver, one of Miley's best friends, is ashamed at first and tries to hide his disease from his friends.

 

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Being a dad has lots of challenges. Heck, being a parent is the best but scariest job you can have! But having diabetes and being a parent has its own unique challenges.
I find that when my kids witness a low or any complication with my disease I end up feeling guilty. Why should they have to worry about their father at such a young age? They have enough to worry about. I hate it.
One evening my kids started asking lots of questions about diabetes and of course, I am always willing to talk to them about anything they are questioning. My son asked, "Are we going to get diabetes?" (READ MORE)

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This post by our very own Carey Potash - got me thinking about how I'd feel if we found a cure. I decided to practice how I might bid diabetes farewell - Dear John-style.
Dear Diabetes, (READ MORE)

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Thursday, my college youth group is having a Fourth of July picnic. I'm half excited, but half wary of all things food related. The diabetic in me is curious, anxious, and completely nervous about what will be served, how it was prepared, and so on. The diabetic in me is wanting to be a total control freak...but unfortunately, this isn't a situation where I can be. This situation calls for a little gambling and adventure-taking.

 

Ever since I started venturing out on my own, I've struggled with food. I want healthy choices. I want choices that won't send my blood sugar through the roof. And mostly, I want choices that I will actually eat (as I'm a fairly picky eater). All those things combined leaves me feeling like I have to make the restaurant choice or at least give plenty of acceptable options...while trying to make everyone happy in what they're putting in their own mouths.

 

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So Valentine's Day came and went. You may have heard. Maybe you saw the musical balloons the size of inflatable boats dangling from the supermarket checkout lanes that played "Truly" by Lionel Richie when you lightly tapped them.
My belated apologies to the Genuardi's store manager if you're reading this. It was me. I was the guy who sprinted angrily from balloon to balloon - punching each one and setting off the simultaneous symphony of Lionel Richie before running out of the store screaming "F love!"
In retrospect, maybe I was just mad that they were all out of "I love you even though you're diabetic" cards. (READ MORE)

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I touched the top of my forehead and felt the sudden wetness of perspiration as I walked down the stairs. My head felt light and loose as if it dangled from a marionette string. Strange. It wasn't hot in the house. I felt an overwhelming feeling of tingly ickiness throughout my whole body as I stood there sweating and vibrating and wanting to quickly get to the nearest chair.
I've tested Charlie's blood sugar thousands of times, but doing my own felt awkward as I searched for the right angle. After some difficulty, I managed to squeeze a drop of blood from my finger and scoop up enough for a reading. Sure enough, I was 66. (READ MORE)

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