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

It's been a bit busy this week, leaving me somewhat late on reporting back on Saturday's d-group meeting to see Breakthrough: The Dramatic Story of the Discovery of Insulin, a special exhibit showing at the New York Historical Society. Since I had to work Sunday, this ended up as the total of my World Diabetes Day celebrations this year.

 

 

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After a lot of tsuris which I'm certain Mom never meant to visit upon us, her remains were laid to rest on Friday the 13th, and — for what it's worth, since we've been far from traditional about it — the week of shivah, the deepest mourning, has been observed.

 

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I am all for national security. I travel at least twice a year by plane. And I like to know that terrorists, hijackers, and others aren't sitting next to me on that plane considering when to take it down. I like to know that the guy next to me doesn't have a bomb in his shoe...or his underwear.

 

But I'm also conservative when it comes to my rights and privacy being stripped from me. Call me crazy, call me Texan, but I'm all for concealed carry or even open carry in specific circumstances. On Facebook, I'm a fan of the "Concealed Carry on Campus" group. Too many school shootings could be prevented by licensed, regulated gun owners. The bad guys will always get the guns anyway, so if I know the good guy also has a gun...well I like the odds a whole lot better.

 

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Sidewalks, Parks, Farm Markets Cut Diabetes Risk - Ottawa Citizen

 

"Carey, the kids have been standing on the sidewalk for three hours now. Isn’t that enough for today?"

(Sigh) "Fine. Take five, kids. I think the farm market is still open."

 

 

Getting Personal with Diabetes - Health Leaders

 

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Today: Today I watched a few eye-opening documentaries. The first one I watched is called, "Bigger, Faster, Stronger". Bigger, Faster, Stronger is about how American society has become so obsessed with being just like the title says. It talks about steroid use and gives a unique perspective into the lives of the many different people who use them or who have used them.

 

I liked it because I could relate it to what I have been reading about from Eckhart Tolle.

 

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I’m generally not a jealous person (at least I don’t think so), but “jealousy” is the only way I think I can describe what I’m going through right now.

 

Every time I see an ad for the breast cancer three-day walk — which is about every 30 seconds these days — I want to hurl the TV across the room. Why? Because why can’t that much attention be paid to people with diabetes?

 

Yes, I know there are walks for diabetes. But are there commercials with people dressed in blue saying “Save the ta-tas”… er, “Save the pancreases of the world” and “If I can walk 20 miles a day in support of my mother/sister/aunt/uncle/son/daughter then anyone can?” No, there aren’t.

 

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November, 2012
I stopped over at Six Until Me and found all the windows boarded up and the rooms were littered with squatters. Tumbleweeds bounced across the yard. "Kerri who?" they said when I asked of her whereabouts.
Things sure have changed since Halle Berry cured diabetes five years ago. The online diabetes community has become a ghost town of inactive blogs and non-updated web sites. Though it's absolutely amazing to have a cure, the blogosphere frankly doesn't know what do with itself. Some have just vanished, never to be seen again. Some are still out there, staring vacuously at Google search screens, not knowing where to go, like long-time prisoners released back into society. Others have had a harder time moving on and have resurfaced under new management. (READ MORE)

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No matter how commonplace diabetes has become, I still react the same way when I see a person with diabetes in the wild. I still feel a special connection despite the fact that I don’t physically share the disease. I get excited, like I’ve just spotted a rare plant species or a member of a secret underground society - whose cover is only blown with the slightest hint of pump-tubing. I feel like there should be a unique handshake or some sort of enigmatic hand gesture.

 

I walked by an all-glass conference room at work the other day and saw two guys sitting at a long spruce-colored table and glancing up at the large flat-panel monitor on the wall. As I walked by, I saw one guy begin to unzip a small black pouch.

 

"Hmm," I thought. "I think I just saw a diabetic."

 

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When I was in grade school, regardless of whether our Trick-or-Treat costumes were home-made or store-bought, whether we wore masks or make-up, our huge paper loot bags were accompanied by small orange milk cartons stamped with information from UNICEF -- The United Nations Children's Fund. Printed on the cartons were examples of what a small donation might do for a child in a third-world country -- a nickel, for example, might provide a child with a pencil and notebook for school; a dollar might vaccinate him against smallpox or polio; five dollars could get his town clean water. The following school day, our teachers would collect the milk containers. The local PTA would count up the money and submit the school's UNICEF donation for that year.

 

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Every so often, a discussion will pop up about how to refer to those of us with glucose metabolism issues. Whether it's "diabetic versus person with diabetes", "borderline versus prediabetes", or even the whole "Type 1 / Type 2 / Type 1.5 / Gestational / Other" schema, these discussions run very deep to the core of our sense of identity... perhaps just as deeply as skin tone, religion, or ethnicity.

 

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