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

I finally got the results from my bloodwork. My endo has you come in for the appointment, then go do bloodwork, then mails you the results with a note of any changes they want to implement on it. I'd prefer to have the numbers to discuss at the appointment, but I really like the other aspects of his practice, so I stay with him.
Without further ado - the number all persons with diabetes are most interested in - the A1C. (drumroll, please)
5.5%. Yes, five point five! I have seen 5.5 before but I was pregnant and on insulin. I am pretty thrilled. My last A1C in May was 5.8, so this is great. (READ MORE)

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I went for my 6 month endo appt week before last. I finally got my bloodwork back in the mail. That's one thing I really dislike about my doctor. I think it would be so much more effective to have the test results in front of us for the discussion.
By the way, where I write "doctor", feel free to substitute "physcian's assistant". As with most doctors who are in demand, he has 4 PAs that also see patients. The office tells you that you can make appointments with anyone, but if you want to see the actual MD, it takes a couple more months of waiting or accepting the oddball times, like 7:45 am on a Monday or 11:55 on a Friday - they close at noon on Fridays.
My HbA1c went up from 5.5 to 5.7. I realize that is still an awesome result and nothing to complain about, but I'm sure it's directly related to the 12 lbs I have gained in the past 6 months. That dreaded holiday weight that I was so afraid of? Yes, that would be about 8 of those pounds. (READ MORE)

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**I hate that almost every holiday has turned into a candy holiday. For several years now I have drastically cut down on the amount of candy I give the kids for Easter (along with other holidays). This year, I went shopping for presents and Easter basket goodies on Saturday, which depending on how you think about it was either a great idea or a terrible idea. There were not many choices left in the candy aisle, and about 20 of us standing around looking at reject candy. Being limited, though, was great. Each kid got about six of those tiny chocolate eggs, and about six plastic eggs that had a handful of Skittles or jelly beans in them. I was pretty proud of that. And then on Easter we went to a friend's house. There was an egg hunt. And Uh. Mah. Gawd. did they make out with some serious loot. I emptied all the eggs last night into our community stash of candy where we have Halloween, Christmas and Valentine's Day leftovers. The bucket is overflowing now. Grrr. (READ MORE)

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Tomorrow morning we go to CHOP (Children's Hospital of Philadelphia) to meet Charlie's new team of endos, nurses, dieticians, social workers and pump experts. I think it's like a seven-hour affair.
I must say, CHOP had me at "Insulin Pump and Technology Team." Charlie's prior endos didn't impress me with their pump know-how. With the pump being largely responsible for his survival, I saw this as a big problem. I became smitten when I saw that CHOP's pump team alone was equal in size to that of the attending physicians at the old place.
Charlie is also "pumped up" for tomorrow. Sorry, that was horrendous. Turning off awful pun mode now [click]. Of course Charlie has his own incentive-driven motivation.
"Mom, will I get that big shot tomorrow?" (he means bloodwork)
"I don't know, Susanne responds."
"It's been a while," he says, as if reminiscing of the good 'ole days of burning needle pain and screams so loud they set off fire sprinklers. (READ MORE)

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Tomorrow morning we go to CHOP (Children's Hospital of Philadelphia) to meet Charlie's new team of endos, nurses, dieticians, social workers and pump experts. I think it's like a seven-hour affair.
I must say, CHOP had me at "Insulin Pump and Technology Team." Charlie's prior endos didn't impress me with their pump know-how. With the pump being largely responsible for his survival, I saw this as a big problem. I became smitten when I saw that CHOP's pump team alone was equal in size to that of the attending physicians at the old place.
Charlie is also "pumped up" for tomorrow. Sorry, that was horrendous. Turning off awful pun mode now [click]. Of course Charlie has his own incentive-driven motivation.
"Mom, will I get that big shot tomorrow?" (he means bloodwork)
"I don't know, Susanne responds."
"It's been a while," he says, as if reminiscing of the good 'ole days of burning needle pain and screams so loud they set off fire sprinklers. (READ MORE)

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As many of you have read this week in my other blogs, I have had a lot going on. I have a very important job interview today and besides that many people I know have been dealing with a variety of health issues. One issue that is very personal and by far the most important is that my very own Poppa has some stuff going on. I was reluctant to share this information with everyone until I got a better idea myself of what exactly was happening.

At this point, I am extremely thankful, but it appears he will be ok. We still don't know a whole lot right now, but ultimately we did learn that he will begin taking medication for type 2 diabetes. My dad will began taking the medication called Metformin, due to having very high blood sugars. I am so unbelievably thankful that we have caught this early enough that hopefully he will continue to remain healthy.
(READ MORE)

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"What's the matter?" The Mr. wanted to know when I called him at work today just before lunch. "You sound like someone just kicked your puppy."
I chuckled. I was trying to hide it, but I guess not successfully.
"Nothing," I lied.
Truth is, I'm not really sure what's wrong with me. I've been so psyched about going on the pump since the process really got under way last week. But I've been sort of in a funk since yesterday when I got bloodwork results from my endo that indicate I am not type 2, but most likely type 1.5 (also known as latent autoimmune diabetes in adults). (READ MORE)

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Why is it so hard to get back on track after you fall off the diet wagon? Each day, I start out with good intentions, but somewhere along the line, my eating has gone straight to pot.
I think it started almost a month ago now, right after getting fasting bloodwork done at my endo's office. I "celebrated" with a breakfast at McDonald's, something I'd been craving for a while. Then I had a few run-ins with a Chick-Fil-A sandwich, waffle fries (dipped in mayo) and cole slaw.
After that was the Snickerdoodle incident (which I blamed on my friend Lizzy for introducing me to the sweet, slightly cinnamon flavored, sugar cookies at Whole Foods). Following closely on its heels was the chocolate chip cookie catastrophe. Now I'm in the midst of a full-blown cupcake bender.
Who do I think I am? What in the world makes me think I can eat these foods without consequences? (READ MORE)

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So tomorrow we bring Charlie into the shop for his quarterly visit and let them take a look under the hood. Hopefully they'll hear that strange noise he's been making and figure out why he's been leaking so much and more importantly, why he never seems to run out of gas.
In preparation for our meeting, I've been jotting down some questions for Charlie's doctor that I will forget to bring with me and completely forget to ask. I'll remember that I forgot to ask the questions as I'm on the Pennsylvania Turnpike, driving home after the appointment. Because that's what I do. (READ MORE)

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The fun never ends around here. Olivia woke up at three o'clock this morning. She puked on the floor in her room. She puked down the hall way. She puked all over the bathroom. And herself. Poor kid - she was miserable.

Of course, this woke up both little girls - I'm running up and down the stairs, fetching towels and the mop and trying to keep the two babies from yelling the house down. Boo calmed down quickly and went back to sleep. The Bug, who is The World's Lousiest Sleeper (TM), was up, but quiet. And here I am, in my t-shirt, freezing, mopping the floors. Fun.

Olivia showered as I schlepped the puked-upon clothing and towels down to the cellar. Back upstairs again to get her into bed, with the puke bowl. A quick blood sugar check - she was 199, which I didn't correct, given the amount she threw up - and we both went back to bed.
(READ MORE)

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