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

What would you say if you had the symptoms of a common medical condition, but if after a year, none of the usual therapies worked?

 

What would you say if your doctor insisted that he had correctly diagnosed the disease as something chronic, but not necessarily debilitating, and was giving you medicines that all should be working?

 

Now, what would you say if there was a less-common form of that medical condition that had all the same symptoms, but was caused by a completely different disease -- one that was immediately life-threatening -- and which required a different form of therapy? What would you say if your doctor refused to consider the possibility of that less-common disease? And what would you say if there were two common tests that could confirm whether or not the less-common diagnosis was correct, but your doctor refused to order them?

 

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I must admit that when I went to bed Monday night I was a little nervous, a little anxious, a little excited about my endo appointment Tuesday morning. In fact, when my fasting was well above 200 on Tuesday I wondered if my nerves had anything to do with it. 

 

Tuesday's appointment was a follow up for labwork and an ultrasound on my thyroid that I had about 10 days ago. I was pretty sure the lab work (much of which was antibody tests to determine if I am truly type 1 or type 2) would show that I am type 1, but there was still a little part of me that doubted I was right.

 

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When I filled out the "get-to-know-you" paperwork for the next new doctor's office I was going to try, I was a little skeptical. Among the questions were things like: "Do you strive for optimal health on a daily basis?" That's kind of a loaded question becuase, really, who doesn't want to be healthy? But we all have *those* days.

 

Anyway. I looked passed it. I was still a little skeptical, though. Especially when I walked into the office. Granted, I was in one of the swankier parts of town, but there was a waterfall in the waiting room. And the girls at the front desk all had nails as long as their fingers and shirts that said: Got Hormones? or something like that.

 

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I’m not afraid of needles, but I must admit that I’m a little fearful of the bloodwork I’m scheduled to have in a few weeks.
 

Since I finally found an endo practice that I enjoy (yes, I know I still haven’t blogged about it yet!), they naturally want their own bloodwork. Which is great. And fine with me. It’s just the type of bloodwork that’s being done that’s leaving me a little uneasy.
 

I know it shouldn’t. And, really, I’m not uneasy I’m just kind of … I don’t know… just nervous? anxious? curious?
 

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I've always loved my hair. I used to say it was one of my best features. Once I understood and appreciated my curls, I learned how to take care of them. Throughout college and before having kids, I had long (mid-back length), curly hair.

 

I started cutting my hair shorter around the time No. 1 was born. I would go back and forth between wanting it short and wanting it long. The Mr. has always liked my hair long, and I think for the most part I prefer it that way.

 

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I am not a number. -- "Number 6", The Prisoner

 

One of the questions asked in a recent #dsma chat had to do with the people we live and work with who are familiar enough with our diabetes care to support us, make sure we have appropriate food and drink as needed, who know how and when to administer glucagon, and what to tell the folk at 911 about us. Some debate arose over the common patient-community designation of these individuals as "Type 3s".

 

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It's unusual for me to have nightmares — especially nightmares about flying. Mine are usually about family relationships gone completely awry. But facing a World Diabetes Day on which I am working at a place whose uniform does not allow even a touch of blue, having given Nick Jonas my last World Diabetes Day pin (and not having had the money to replenish my stash), and having failed to have the presence of mind to do the Big Blue Test at least once (even though I am bicycling to and from work at least half the time), I feel a bit like a diabetes failure. (READ MORE)

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In response to Mike Durbin's Diabetes Blessings Week, I've put together some first "thanks" we might have given upon our diagnoses...

 

The DKA Survivor — Thank goodness I'm alive!

 

Symptomatic Solly — Thank goodness we know what it is!

 

The New Type 1 (adult) — Thank goodness there's insulin!

 

The New Type 2 — Thank goodness I don't need insulin!

Type 1 (at Thanksgiving dinner) — Thank goodness I have insulin, so I don't have to say "no" to anything!

 

Just a Touch of "The Sugar" — Thank goodness there's a pill for that!

 

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I keep saying that my new diagnosis doesn't change anything, but it does. It just does. I can't put my finger on it, and many of the things that are going through my mind as being "worse" than having type 2 are likely just unfounded fears. (READ MORE)

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"The human race can be divided into two groups: those who produce their own insulin, and those who don't."

 

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