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March 20th, 2010
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We found 10 result(s) that match your search "Dreams":

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I have vivid dreams. When I close my eyes at night, a whole new world appears, in living color. My dreams hold smells and sounds and sights that often rival the sensory reality of my waking life. There have been times when I could swear I've seen people, had conversations, and done things in real life, when these memories were simply creations of my sleeping mind. I know that I talk, run, laugh, and cry while I sleep; something that makes sharing a bed with me a real challenge. I suppose that the vividness of my dreams might be a reflection of the constant activity in my brain. (READ MORE)


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I was at work, walking toward the cafeteria when Bert grabbed me. I play soccer with Bert. He was shaking and moving in clumsy circles and clearly disoriented. I immediately got out my testing supplies and checked his blood sugar. I snapped the pricker against his finger and blood drops spilled out continuously like a leaky faucet. When I saw the 7 on the meter screen, my heart stopped beating for a moment. I had never seen single digits. I sat Bert down in a chair and screamed for help. "I need juice! (READ MORE)


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My mind makes up for the often boring and brain-numbing life of a stay at home mom with a really cool dream life. By day, I'm dancing around the living room singing Laurie Berkner songs and smacking my backside to cheer my little boy up, but by night, I'm traveling the world, eating exotic foods and bumping into people I haven't seen in 20 years. Needless to say, I'm pretty hooked on that eight-hours a night.


In my dreams, I'm not sniffing out a poopy diaper, sorting laundry or strolling the aisles of the supermarket, humming along to the music. In my dreams, I'm not dealing with diabetes, either. Or rather, I wasn't, until last night.

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On such a winter's day.
I had another diabetes dream last night. It was even more horrible than the last one I had. The one where I was testing Charlie and a blue liquid spilled from his finger rather than blood.
At 2:17 am, I scrambled in the darkness and found a nubby pencil the size of a cigarette butt and scrap paper to jot it all down before it faded fast from my memory. I should have just stayed in bed and let this terrible dream disappear.
[WARNING: gets a bit heavy] (READ MORE)


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When you see the check-mark-y swoosh, you think Nike, right? An apple gets you the computer company, golden arches make you think of cheesburgers, a peacock will have you thinking Must See TV, a red cross... you get the picture.

 

And when it comes to health there are several very recognizable symbols of support, perhaps the most popular is the pink ribbon for breast cancer. I was doing some research today on breast cancer and realized that the pink ribbon is quite possibly the only symbol synonymous with only one health condition. Even the red ribbon went from AIDS to a host of other causes.

 

You see a pink ribbon you instantly think breast cancer; you see a red, green or yellow ribbon and you have to do some thinking or asking. While many diabetes organizations and associations have their own symbols, there is not one that is universal for diabetes.

 

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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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Image Credit:  Thomas WoodsonI have been pondering traveling the world lately. I can’t quite seem to narrow down exactly what I want to do, but I know it has something to do with traveling the globe, being around others, and spreading peace. The thing I realize, and that we/I sometimes forget, is there is something to be said about a person who just “jumps”. In other words, instead of losing myself in thoughts of what might happen or where I might end up, or how I will get my (diabetic) supplies…I’m more interested in just living and the experiences that come along with it. The idea of just spreading my wings and flying…no matter what happens.

 

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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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2 weeks ago

 

I could hear the laughter from the comedy club in the distance, echoing through the basement corridors. The comedian’s muffled words reverberated from his microphone and the crowd roared in response. I could hear the dampened jokes as if they were being delivered from the other end of a tunnel, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find the comedy club. I felt like I was walking around in circles for hours and I hadn’t seen a soul.

 

Finally, an elevator opened up. I attempted to step in but people were packed in like sardines. There was no room for me.

 

Odd dream.

 

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Ever since I can remember, I've been a dreamer. Not only do I get lost in vivid day dreams, but my subconscious takes over in the darkness of night with raging images. Over the years, I've come to realize that I have a history of especially strange dreams.

 

They are a mix of nightmares, unrealistic events, and practical moments. I've had some that were premonitions, predicting coming events. Others were so far out of the box that I don't expect anything to resemble them in real life.

 

But the one thing that my mind usually keeps out of my dreams is diabetes and pain. No nightmare has ever involved diabetes complications, seizures, or even diabetes moments. It's so ingrained in my daily life that my brain doesn't find the need to remind me of it in my sleep.

 

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Carey Potash
Carey PotashCarey is a full-time hater of diabetes. The benefits stink. His 7-year-old son, Charlie, has been giving he and his wife the finger since November of 2003. Carey's parenting humor has appeared in various websites and print magazines. He resides in the suburbs of Philadelphia with his wife and three children. (Read More)
George Simmons
George SimmonsGeorge Simmons is a father and husband living with type 1 diabetes. A self proclaimed "born again diabetic," George began blogging as a way to meet other people living with diabetes and learn more about managing his disease. (Read More)
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