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We found 8 result(s) that match your search "adult diagnosis":

I'm an information junkie. And I think I'm one of those people who always wonders why some people don't at least watch the news once a day or scan the headlines on any reputable news web site. I tend to fall into the habit of making sure people are in the loop. I'm not a know-it-all, but I'm happy to tell people what's going on.
And that includes what's going on in my life. However, I recently discovered that letting my mom in on every detail of my diabetes management is not necessarily a good thing. There are some things moms just don't want to know-even if they think they do. (READ MORE)

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I'm 21 years old. As much as I like to consider myself an adult, I know I've barely lived. Yes, I've been in love, traveled to multiple countries, held a steady job, and seen the sunrise. But I haven't held my own child in my arms, said "I Do" in a white dress, walked across the university commencement stage, or owned my own home.

 

I have spent the last four years of my life fighting against my health though. A fight that has beaten me down, bruised and broken me both physically and emotionally. A fight that I'm ready to give up on.

 

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No, not THAT kind of change of life!  I was laid off from my job 10 days ago.  Boy, talk about a life change!  I am doing a little contract work, so I don't know what to call my current position.  "Stay at home Mom" has such negative connotations and I find "Full-time Mother" offensive because I've been a full-time mom since my son was born, regardless of my employment status.  

 

My 4 year old has gone from 9-10 hour days at a daycare center, to 3 hours at a small local preschool.  The rest of the time he's with me.  My 14 month old is with me 24/7, or so it seems.  My husband does step up so I can maintain some other adult relationships. What those will be and how often I'll get a night off remain to be negotiated.

 

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The nurse slapped the small piece of paper down on the table.

 

I glanced at the 8.2 and then looked away, disinterested. I figured as much. Like I said, it’s been a high summer.

 

I spoke to the nutritionist first, then the CDE and then the doctor.

 

Charlie’s height is trending fine, but his weight had dipped in the last three to six months. Despite the A1c of 8.2, Charlie couldn’t have heard better news from the dietician.

 

"Let’s up his food. Make it more like 185 to 200 carbs per day."

 

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Because I was diagnosed at age 14, I can only speak about not having diabetes from the perspective of a child. I lived 14 years free of diabetes. As a young kid, I did experience a few random episodes of hypoglycemia, but never did I imagine myself becoming a person with diabetes. I didn't even know what the word was. I remember one distinct conversation that I had with a friend's mom. She was talking to me about a guy that we both knew named Curtis. Curtis was a soccer referee and before I knew about my diagnosis, I remember her telling me that he was, "a diabetic and that he had to take shots everyday". Looking back I can remember my exact feelings and reaction to this. (READ MORE)

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Where to even start...?

 

And that is the point, you don't know where.

 

When someone is newly diagnosed with diabetes, where should their educational journey begin? Sure, there is the inevitable hospital stay, and the chat with a doctor, and possibly a self-injection tutorial (for the insulin requiring crowd), but what is the next step... after the hospital scene?

 

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Just the other day I was speaking with a group of co-workers about different life changing events in the life of someone with diabetes. As we sat there and talked about it I began to reflect on my own. I thought about the different times in my life such as diagnosis time, school, relationships, complications, and work. All things that every person living with diabetes can relate to, or will eventually deal with.

Where were you when you were diagnosed? What were you doing that day or at that particular time in your life? Were you at work? Were you at school? Did you go into a coma or diabetic ketoacidosis? Was your vision so blurry, that like me, you realized you couldn't see the picture on the t.v.?
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For a number of years, I was the only diabetic I knew. Diagnosed when I was a little kid, there wasn't an army of advocates knocking down the doors of my school. As far as I knew, the only meter in my elementary school was mine. In my high school, there were two meters: mine and the one belonging to a classmate's older sister. No one else I knew was taking a fingerstick before having the orange slices at soccer practice, or before tap dance lessons.
My first taste of a diabetes community came one summer at camp. Growing up in New England, I had access to one of the best diabetes camps in the country - Clara Barton Camp. I spent six summers at CBC, giggling with my fellow campers, singing my lungs out at the nightly campfire meetings, and making friends. (READ MORE)

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