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

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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I found this post recently in a diabetes forum.
Topic: Juvenile diabetes
A dear friend of mine has an 8 week old that was not thriving. She ruled out heart issues early on, but recently he became seriously ill. Upon further investigation, he was diagnosed as diabetic! Never heard of a baby with diabetes. His eight siblings are all fine. They have also tested for pancreatic insufficiency. He's just plain old diabetic. Thank goodness!
A supportive member of the forum responds:
Oh good grief! So young!
Eight siblings? Sorry, I left out one important detail. It's about a dog; an 8-week-old English Springer puppy.
I'll admit, this post was originally going to have a slightly sarcastic edge to it as it was triggered by recent FDL entries of pet owners who compared their dog or cat's diabetes to human beings living with the disease. (READ MORE)

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As a long-term volunteer at Mile 20 of the New York City Marathon, I have seen many things that runners will do, or put themselves through, to get their bodies through that distance en route to the 26 miles and some odd yards of a marathon. Blisters, cramps, and bleeding are part and parcel for the course. So are dehydration, overhydration, and electrolyte depletion. At Mile 20, most runners visiting the medical station want a quick massage or some Vaseline® before heading back out on the course. While a few runners do drop out, most of those are able to wait for the "sweep bus" to carry them back to the finish line. Exceedingly few runners who require medical aid this far along the course need to be ambulanced out.

 

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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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Sometimes I'm forgetful. And sometimes I choose to forget. Like yesterday afternoon, I got frozen yogurt with my mom before I headed back to school. But I'd been trending south on the blood sugar line after several hours walking around the (scorching) zoo with my family. So I decided to forgo insulin after my treat.

 

Big mistake. Because the sun, the heat, and the walking didn't have anything on the 50 carbs of waffle cone and yogurt. And my blood sugar was the one that took the hit. At a lovely 351.

 

Four units of Humalog later, I stopped kicking myself for being so dumb and got on with my evening. But as I dove into studying for my first exam and chatting with friends, I completely forgot about diabetes. I didn't think to check after an hour and a half to see where I was headed. I didn't even think to assess where I thought I was headed.

 

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Olivia recently pulled a stunt that simultaneously scared the crap out of me and made me madder that a sack full of wet cats.

She, against my instructions, set up an account on My Space. I found out she had it a while ago and would check her site every few days just to make sure everything was kept above board. She mostly used it to talk to her friends and to check out celebrities like Hannah Freakin' Montana. Oy. I let her know that I knew about it and that I was checking it out and she was fine with that.

Until this weekend, however. She changed her age to read 17 (she's 13) and some random guy contacted her. They talked for a bit until he started getting graphic at which point, she told him to leave her alone. What made me angry was that she gave the guy her name, her school and her address. What sent me thru the roof was that I didn't hear this from her, but rather from the vice principal at her school. Yeah, that one went over well.
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We met because we have diabetes. Our lives became linked by pump tubing and test strip trails, by the difficulty of lows and the joy of staying stable and feeling healthy, by the words we used to describe the struggles and the victories. But we became friends because we have so much more in common. A love of words and books and strawberry tea, an appreciation for twisted or immature humor, and goofy cats that drive us crazy. We would like one another, even if we didn't share diabetes. But diabetes bonds us as tightly, if not more tightly, than any of our other commonalities. (READ MORE)

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Sometimes I think it's really hard to separate my life from my diabetes. I've been diabetic since before I can even remember so life has always involved this disease. Now that I'm over sixteen years in, it makes the separation even more difficult. How can I cut out the one part of my life that takes over every second of every day?

 

There was a time when that was easier. A time when I didn't follow every action or thought with something diabetes related. A time where most people didn't know that I was diabetic or see the results of my diabetes in my life. But sadly, that was a time with little control. It's a stage that I went through that I don't want to go back to.

 

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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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My averages had been looking much better the last few weeks with the mix of keeping a stable schedule and eating a little better. I was having my usual bouts of lows (in the 50's) with the lower averages, but I was also working to correct those issues. So this week, I'm sad to report that my averages have soared back up with the onset of school.

 

The first week of school (or any time I get sincerely busy), I tend to let my diabetes slip. I check my blood sugar less often and at the most unusual times. I don't stay on top of my insulin, as in I let my Lantus doses fall outside the typical 12 hour range or delay my boluses. On top of all that, I tend to eat off schedule (since I'm still adjusting to the change in daily routine) and never decent meals.

 

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