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

When things couldn't possibly get any worse ...

 

"Hi dad, I'm 31."

 

It's not something you ever want to hear. That is, unless it was his 31st birthday and he was just calling to remind me.

 

It's certainly not something you want to hear on the other end of the phone when your son is at a friend's house and you really don't know the father too well are you're miles away from him in a strip mall buying a brass turtle.  

 

We've only just begun letting him go to friends' homes without us - dealing with diabetes on his own. He's maybe done it three times prior to this one and all has gone well.

 

A.  He knows to check his sugar if he feels low.

 

B. He's wired with piercing alarms that go off when he's too low or too high.

 

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Did you hear about this dad that found himself on the wrong side of the diabetes tracks? This may be ancient news by now, viewed from the internet eyes of the informed masses, but his story is touching and thought provoking. In North Platte, Nebraska a six year old little boy took over steering his father's vehicle after the man passed out from low blood sugar. While driving home from a restaurant dinner, the dad's blood sugar tanked and sent him slumping back into the driver's seat, without accelerating, but with the car still rolling down the road. His young son hopped on his dad's lap, grabbed the wheel and steered around until a patrolling police officer could intervene.

 

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I feel like such a mean dad.

 

I am the father of two very awesome kids. My son is 14 and my daughter is 10. They are both very smart and well mannered kids. My wife and I are extremely blessed in that they are both good kids. We thank God all the time for them.

 

I am usually considered the "cool dad" with my kid and their friends and as much as I am "cool" I am also pretty strict. I have definite rules with my kids and as long as they do not break them then they have lots of freedoms. Break a rule and freedoms are gone.

 

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Being a dad has lots of challenges. Heck, being a parent is the best but scariest job you can have! But having diabetes and being a parent has its own unique challenges.
I find that when my kids witness a low or any complication with my disease I end up feeling guilty. Why should they have to worry about their father at such a young age? They have enough to worry about. I hate it.
One evening my kids started asking lots of questions about diabetes and of course, I am always willing to talk to them about anything they are questioning. My son asked, "Are we going to get diabetes?" (READ MORE)

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I told him I’d take him for ice cream after his last hockey game.

 

Diabetes makes me a liar. It makes me break my word.

 

A blood sugar of 422 in the parking lot of Dairy Delite will do that.

 

"Oh no!," he says looking at the meter. He often prefers to look at the meter first and then show me. I guess he figures it’s his blood sugar. He gets to see it first.

 

"Maybe it’s because my hands are so dirty," he said optimistically, taking out another test strip and scrubbing his hands together with antibacterial lotion.

 

He tested again and this time it was higher. Maybe under normal circumstances he would be able to deal with disappointment, but when he’s over 400, well ... it was just a matter of time.

 

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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.
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Nope, this post is not about Thanksgiving or the dawning of the Holiday Season.

 

It's about the calls I receive from my family that are diabetes -related.  Often, I don't hear much from them on this front.  But lately, it's been a flurry of calls...

 

First, about the insulin syringe recall. Frantic calls from both of my brothers, who are apparently aware of my insulin sensitivity (ie: "2.5 times your usual dose would probably KILL you") but not aware that I've been using an insulin pump...  

 

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I've lost 16 pounds in the past 7 months or so. The bulk of it was lost over the summer when I was working out on average four times a week. And the last few pounds slid off within the first month of school, with the increase in activity on a daily basis and the lack of frequent calorie consumption.

 

My clothes are baggy now. I have jeans from high school that I'm still squeezing into though, so I'm determined to lose a little bit more weight. My body feels better, looking in the mirror is much more appealing these days than it has been in the past. And I'm proud of myself for working so hard to make this happen.

 

So when I showed my mom a pair of pants that have about three inches to spare around the waist, her response threw me. "That's really great!" But it was followed with "Are you sure you're not losing weight because you're running high?"

 

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Charlie woke me up at 5:15 am with his pump in one hand, his pants in the other and something clearly on his mind as he spoke a mile a minute.
"I was looking for blue pants and I couldn't find any so I found these black pants but I'm not sure these match so I wanted to see if you could get the blue pants out of the dryer because you said we were leaving right after breakfast and I don't want to be late ,"
Surely this was a dream. Didn't I just close my eyes to go to sleep thirty seconds ago? It couldn't be.
"Charlie, it's 5:15 am. We're not leaving for a while. Go back to bed."
That wasn't about to happen. He even slept in his Charlie's Angels t-shirt. He couldn't contain his excitement. He was so excited that we were greeted with a blood sugar of 300 at 6:45 am after he was fine in the middle of the night.
Still better than the large ketones and vomiting we experienced just prior to last year's walk.
"I don't like that number," Charlie says. (READ MORE)

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I've gone back and forth about whether to wear a medical ID bracelet. Part of me says I shouldn't bother because once a paramedic friend of mine told me one of the first things they do to a person who has passed out is to check their blood sugar. Part of me says I should wear one as an extra measure of caution.

 

I wore a medical ID bracelet throughout my third pregnancy. I don't think I ever took it off -- not in the shower, not for exercise, nothing. I don't remember why I stopped wearing it. Perhaps I lost it. In fact, now that I think about it, I think that's exactly what happened. I had removed the ugly silver chain and replaced it with strands of colorful beads to match whatever I was wearing. Well, the chains and clasps were cheap and ...

 

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