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We found 7 result(s) that match your search "defining diabetes":

I don't remember being diagnosed. I don't remember being scared or angry. I don't remember the first shots or finger pricks. I hear stories sometimes, but those are rarely mentioned. I imagine how my little four-year-old self might react to learning about diabetes, but come up short most of the time.

 

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Am I a control freak? A striver? A rebel? Maybe I'm self assured? A slacker? An ostrich? Or am I just along for the ride?

 

Diabetes can really take a toll on your life, your actions, your experiences, and your personality. It challenges your likes and dislikes, your dreams and impossibilities. It's continually stretching you, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse.

 

For me, diabetes is always present. It never leaves, no matter what I do. My thoughts are riddled with diabetes questions and answers and ideas. My body constantly checks itself to see where my diabetes stands. Everything around me is marked with the signs of diabetes, from the meter in my purse to the prescriptions in my fridge to the test strips everywhere I turn.

 

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I look down at my finger tips and can only wonder what pricked formations lie ahead.
Four fingers have unique layouts of purplish-red dots. Each mark from it's own blood test in time. I daydream of defining those marks into something more relevant. A symbolic circle for worldwide diabetes awareness for instance. Or rows of hearts to swoon my girlfriend with. For the wanton sand bar look is not working for me.
I feel my silly dream may not come true. Not only because the idea of bleeding designs into fingertips is, well, somewhat odd, but also because my lancing device has the mirrored accuracy of Shaquille O'Neal at the free-throw line. (READ MORE)

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I had the privilege of spending much of Saturday at the first annual New Jersey Bicycle Summit, which was a convocation of engineers, planners, and cycling advocates to discuss common issues and ways of addressing them. The theme of the summit was "Complete Streets", which is shorthand for "designing an infrastructure which supports every mode of local transportation" -- cars and trucks, bicycles, pedestrians, mobility-assist vehicles (e.g. wheelchairs & scooters), public/mass transportation, and so on. One of the more important takeaways from this meeting was that the details of a "complete street" will change from community to community, from street to street -- kind of like the way the details of diabetes management will change from person to person, from year to year.

 

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Recently, I was talking with a good friend who has a daughter with a serious medical issue that has significant impacts on her speech and learning. We were discussing the frustration it causes when the world insists on defining the life of a child by way of the things they can't or won't do - outright ignoring the possibility and potential a child has.

 

 

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A pilot in Denton, Texas, made an emergency landing near a freeway yesterday because he felt lightheaded. Only one media source stated he was diabetic. Yet the article made every major newspaper in the area.

 

Thursday, I drove down the highway in rush hour traffic digging through my bag and eating everything I had with me. As I stuffed the glucose tabs into my mouth, I sat wondering about my fellow drivers. Were any of them diabetic? Had they driven this low before? Would they be mad because I was driving low (granted we didn't reach speeds above 15 mph)?

 

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Music has always colored my life and, in turn, my life with diabetes.  Sometimes blue, sometimes neon pink, sometimes black.   My parents always had a record player, an eight track, a tape deck in our house and there were always plenty of albums and tapes to choose from.  Everything from the Beatles to Helen Reddy to Frank Sinatra to Devo.  When we camped in the summer, there was always a guitar around and some beautiful voices among my parents and their friends.  I never was instrumentally inclined, but I’ve been singing pretty much since I could talk.   So, yeah, music was – and is -  central to my existence.  And there are songs or musicians that I will always identify with moments or periods in my life.

 

 

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