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We found 9 result(s) that match your search "adolescent":

Being 17 at the time of diagnosis gives me some understanding of this years World Diabetes Day theme of "How Diabetes affects children and adolescents.
It was my senior year in High School. I had become Drum Major of the band. It was going to be a fun year but of course, diabetes had another plan.
I look back and remember the disbelief. The confusion that there was no cure. That I was destined to take insulin for the rest of my life. It was too much to handle on top of classes like Government and American Lit. (READ MORE)

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Sad to say, I've not had the bicycle out since Sunday morning. A combination of parental schedules, the Tour de France, rush hour traffic, and a heat wave have conspired to keep me indoors for most of this week. Now, this year's Tour de France has been about as predictable as an adolescent Type 1 girl's blood glucose levels are around menarche -- many favorites crashed out early; the second and third race leaders hung onto their leads far longer (and through more difficult terrain) than expected; expected attacks were never launched (while others were launched at unexpected times), and the French press has been having a field day (or ten) with the first potential French winner in more years than they'd care to count.

 

So much for "why watch, when I could be doing?".

 

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Diabetes,

 

Hey. Perhaps I was a little harsh the other day when I called for divorce. That's not to say I want to keep you around. Don't get me wrong. I desperately want you out of my house. I still hate you very much and harbor a great amount of resentment toward you.

 

But, that said, today you were absolutely dreamy. You had me at 97. I am all too aware that you could have very easily pissed all over my fishing trip with Charlie with the snap of your evil tentacles. But you didn't.  I hardly even thought of you today.  Thank you for making yourself scarce; for not being the center of attention; for giving me some quality time with my son. Maybe you had "gone fishin'" too.

 

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Olivia is starting to look like a pin cushion. Her stomach is a mass of red marks, scars and bumps. It's not pretty. She refuses to wear a bikini or half shirt because of how her stomach looks (not that this bothers me, mind you!).

The problem we're currently having is that she's got so much scar tissue built up that she's running out of real estate for her sites. She currently uses her arms, her stomach and her lower back.

I'm sure some of you will suggest thigh sites, but she has really bad luck with those. Thigh sites generally make her rollercoaster - she'll be in the 400s in the afternoon and by dinner, be in the 60s. It's bizarre. I've tracked it and she's not over-bolusing or over eating. I think it's an absorption thing. She's got meaty thighs (she can thank me for that one). I don't know if that makes a difference or not; regardless, thigh sites just don't do it.
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I had a headache when I got home from work around 3:30 Monday morning.  I don't know what brought it on; I thought maybe it was stress or tension, or that I hadn't eaten in a while, or maybe even sinus related.  I did know that my blood sugar numbers were good, so that wasn't it.

 

Whatever it was, I just wanted it to go away. So, I found something to eat, took some Tylenol, and climbed into bed, hoping that the headache would just go away after a good night's sleep.  Much to my dismay, that's not what happened.

 

I woke later Monday morning with what can only be described as a migraine from hell. It felt like someone had hit me in the head repeatedly with a baseball bat or something.  It was immensely painful, and was accompanied by sensitivity to light and sound. Oh, and nausea, too.  It's been a long time since I've had a headache that bad, and frankly, I could have gone a whole lot longer without it, too.

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Over the weekend, I met up with Nicole to see Blithe Spirit at the Trinity Rep, in Providence, RI. If you have a chance to see this, go. It's wickedly funny. I loved it.

After the show, we went out to a late lunch/early supper (lupper?) and the talk turned, as it so often does, to diabetes. We talked about food choices that Nicole made as a child and what Olivia makes for food choices now. Nicole was telling me that her mother doled out cookies to her, 2 at a sitting, which made her feel as though she had to horde them and hide them in her room, to have whenever she wanted.

I don't go thru that with Olivia, but she does tend to plow thru food. I've pretty much eliminated junk food from our house. I still get it once in a while, but it's not always here. What is here are good-for-you snacks, like fresh fruit and yoghurt and whole grain crackers.
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My blood sugars are in a world all their own lately. Last weeks averages are in the 200's...something I haven't experienced in probably three to four years. Even between sick days, periods, and holidays, my averages never top 190.

 

But last week was a total landslide in the diabetes realm. My body is telling me something, although I'm not positive what it is. And unfortunately, those blood sugars are now telling my body something else as they've wreaked havoc on my immune system, my energy level, and my concentration.

 

I really did try to work on my list of diabetes "to-do's" over the past week. I stopped forgetting my Lantus injections and I only let a bolus slide once or twice. I didn't check as much as I should have, nor did I get any more workouts into my routine. But I was hoping the slight increase in positive diabetes behavior would have a decreasing effect on those blood sugars.

 

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Today's DBlog Week Prompt: Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our “Diabetes Hero”.  It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire, someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3.  It might be a fabulous endo or CDE.  It could be a d-celebrity or role-model.  It could be another DOC member.  It’s up to you – who is your Diabetes Hero??

 

This afternoon, I decided to venture into the past. At my college graduation party, my family wrote me special notes in a journal to wish me the best on the new chapter in my life. I've read them a dozen times when I need some encouragement, love, or family wisdom. But today was different.

 

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There are times that I forget that I'm only 21 years old. Times where I miss the point that I'm young, I'm supposed to be enjoying this life that I'm living, and the basic premise that there's only one life to live (soap operas and all). It's the small moment in my head when I see a girl my age truly living; it's when my friends make broader decisions than I do; it's the monotony of trying to stay in control for all of time.

 

All these moments start at the root of one thing. Diabetes. Being diagnosed with a chronic, life-threatening illness at four years old doesn't do much to preserve childhood. Receiving strict rules and special accommodations all throughout those pivotal years doesn't make for the ability to live freely.

 

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