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

My night basals are a little tricky. It's hard to find a perfect balance. I want my morning number to be 110. Perfect and steady. But even with tweaking my pump, I either wake up 140 or 80.

 

Considering my history with night seizures and horrible over-night lows, I try not to go under 100. But I also don't like risking my A1c by running on the higher end of the scale. So lately, I've let my morning numbers slide below the 100 mark.

 

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I disconnected my pump like normal for my nightly shower. I set it on the counter on top of some towels so the vibration wouldn't bother me. Usually this is a safe place for my pump, away from the direct steam of the shower and any immediate water sources.

 

My cat thought this was an ideal place to have a hockey game. I was halfway through my shower and suddenly I heard the pump slide into the sink. My cat made it his very own hockey puck! Visions of a cracked screen or a completely broken pump flashed through my mind as I screamed at the cat.

 

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There are some days when a person ought to just stay in bed. 

 

Under the covers.

 

Cuddled with the cat.

 

Warm and safe and happy and comfortable.

 

There are some days when staying in bed is the best possible option.  Of course, those days are often realized in hindsight.  When the proverbial ball is already rolling in the absolute wrong direction.

 

Today has been, without a doubt, one of those days.

 

I got up this morning feeling alright.  Fairly well-rested, actually, and not fighting - as I'm wont to do - the inevitable reality that another day has dawned and it can't be spent in the paradise of slumber.

 

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Gene Rayburn with his long 1970s microphone and his swank three-piece suits. I imagine he stunk of cigarettes and scotch as he'd lean into the contestants, awaiting their dirty answers. Raunchy double-entendres from Charles Nelson Reilly and an irresistibly funky theme song. It was smutty stuff for sure, but I loved Match Game back in the day.
 

It's been a while since we've played some diabetes fun 'n games. Last year's Fantasy Diabetes League (FDL) brought out the competitive spirit of the online diabetes community and the diabetes version of Mad Libs was a lot of fun.
 

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The letter C brings us to cannula, by request.
I found an interesting photograph of an insulin pump cannula that said much of what I'd decided to write when I was thinking through this post. Essentially, the photo verbalizes for me the sentiment that my life - the lives of all of us who use an insulin pump - turn (quite literally) on a dime. The cannula that delivers the medicine that keeps us alive is smaller than a coin that, this day and age, won't even pay for a gum ball. (READ MORE)

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I'm not always looking for evidence of diabetes, but sometimes I find it grinning back at me from the most obscure places. A few weeks ago, I found a bit of diabetes in an unexpected place - an infusion set cover in the change compartment of my car. It looked oddly medicinal, peering out from the bright red casing, hidden alongside a random house key and assorted bits of change.

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On Thursday night, I found myself in an emergency room exam room at 2 am, waiting anxiously and staring up at a picture of a baby cocker spaniel posing cutely in a watering can.

No, don't worry. Charlie is fine. I'm fine too. Whole family is fine. This was an emergency room for pets. But wait, I don't even own a pet.  I'm not even a pet person. I had to get up for work in a few hours. What was I doing?

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After the picnic last night, I was extremely tired. It'd been an incredibly long week, we'd just played all kinds of games, and to top it off my blood sugar was low. So I ate some fruit and mixed nuts hoping I wouldn't have to eat anything heavier right before crashing into my bed. But my blood sugar wouldn't come up, it seemed to only be dropping. I drank juice and ate crackers, intently watching the CGMS to tell me when it was rising.

 

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The girl leaned her head out of the car window as if to ask me for directions as I raked the leaves from the flower beds in the front of my house.
"Hey, can I rake your leaves?" she said.
It is so rare to encounter a random act of kindness. And when it happens, it truly takes you by surprise. But maybe Oprah is right. Maybe there is a movement happening. People are really starting to "pay it forward." I've been hooked on her new reality show The Big Give, where contestants on the show give money away and offer a helping hand to people in need.
"So shines a good deed in a weary world," I thought to myself as I said "sure" to the girl and approached her with my rake. (READ MORE)

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