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

I am not an angry person. Or a sad person. Really.
Most of the time, I'm fairly easy-going. I don't dwell for too long on the things I can't change, I try not to let those niggling things get the best of me. I often try to look on the bright side. I'm certainly not one of those annoyingly positive people you'd like to punch because they're so cheerful, but I'm pleasant. And although I won't be rolled over and you better not screw with someone I care about - or you'll suffer my wrath - I don't go out of my way to pick fights or hurt anyone.
But then sometimes I have a low bloodsugar. And well, then - all bets are off. My easy-going nature often exits the premises of my body and "the beast" emerges. (READ MORE)

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As a member of the media, you might think that I would get riled up about news stories all the time. Strangely, though, I don't find that to be true. So I guess it's no surprise that when I do get moved by a story, I get really moved.
There's not often much information in the e-newsletter from Diabetes Health magazine that pertains to me, but I look forward to reading it nonetheless. I usually scan the headlines and teasers, and maybe read a story or two. I sometimes forward it on to my mom and two aunts who help their 90-year-old type 2 mom with her diabetes management.
Today's newsletter, though, had a story that I read several times. The headline, Psychologically Dependent Type 2s Use Too Many Test Strips?, intrigued me; the story, on the other hand, made the fire rage. (READ MORE)

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Beep Boop Beep.
My pump tells me it’s been two hours since my last bolus and that I should check my blood glucose level.
Beep. I clear the alarm.
I slip a test strip into my meter.
Beep. It is ready for me to drop blood on it.
Beep. The machine starts the countdown.
Beep. 163.
Press the Bolus Wizard button on my pump and enter the number.
Beep. Beep. Beep. I accept the amount of insulin and get it sent on its way. As soon as the bolus amount is finished being delivered I hear one last sound.
Beep.
From the other side of cubical partition I hear, “What is that beeping?”
“Sorry, that’s me and my stuff.”
“Ugh, I kept hearing all this beeping. I thought I was going crazy.” She replied. (READ MORE)

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I want to take this oppurtunity that I have been given by dLife and make the very most of it that I possibly can. I want to take the time tonight to be as up front with you that I know how to be. I want people to actually get to know me. Hopefully, by being myself, people out there can relate to my writing's and maybe even enjoy reading about some of what I have to say. So let me start by saying that I am very nervous about writing for this blog. It is a miracle that I got through last night's entry entitled, "Double-header Disaster". I was up for over three hours last night with my girlfriend. She is an amazing person and I couldn't do this without her help and support. She works as a news anchor and reporter so she definately knows how to put good stories together! :)
You will no doubt be hearing more about her in future blog entries to come. (READ MORE)

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In the past few months, I've really noticed the media attention given to diabetes. Countless times the "d-word" gets thrown into a media line, leaving me clinch to the familiarity of my disease and cringe at the inaccuracies they portray. Unfortunately, too much of this media hype is giving diabetes the wrong kind of attention. Too much of it is snide comments about the disease and not about funding for a cure or the pitfalls of diabetes.

 

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Susanne went to Children's Hospital to talk to a family therapist about Charlie. He's been crying a lot in school.

 

We do everything we can to make him feel like a normal boy, but let's be honest – living with diabetes is not normal. There are times when he must eat Jell-O in school rather than the cookies or pretzels he thought he was going to have.

 

So he cries. He rubs his eyes with his fists, runs into the hallway or bathroom and cries. Charlie's teacher has expressed that he's becoming more and more upset when high blood sugars prevent him from eating what he wants to eat. I'm sure the high blood sugar in itself contributes to his inability to control his emotions.

 

Susanne thought the meeting with the therapist went well.

 

Here are some "Don'ts" Susanne came away with:

 

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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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A friend emailed me this week after someone posted something on their blog implying that his characterization of his daughter's illness as a "bad thing" was wrong.  I've heard this kind of argument before about disability or brokenness.  That somehow, manageable chronic disease (particularly disease that onsets in childhood) can't be a "bad" thing because it's a part of a person - or because it's helped to shape a person.  Well, I call B.S.

 

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Every November, those of us in the diabetes community bewail the "invisibility" of our condition, our passion, our advocacy over the remaining eleven months of the year. One of our ongoing gripes is that -- unlike breast cancer's pink ribbon, the red ribbon of AIDS awareness, Livestrong's iconic yellow wristband, or the double-cross of the American Lung Association -- there is no single, universally-recognized symbol or color representing diabetes.

 

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Birds are chirping nearby. The cat is content at my feet. A soft breeze is blowing Texas Spring through my patio. I've got a plate of delicious leftovers from dinner last night. What more could I possibly want?

 

What I want is a cure. What I want is people fighting for a cure. What I want is people making a real impact on this world, including myself.

 

As I'm getting the hang of JDRF and my individual office, I'm finding myself in a very specific train of thought. Where is our cure? What is it that we're doing? And how can we change this?

 

It's Gala season here in Texas. And my chapter is in full swing prepping for it. Wrapping boxes of chocolates, finalizing volunteers, finishing contracts with donors. We are full speed ahead until the night of that event. Full speed ahead to raise over half a million dollars.

 

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