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

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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"Guess what!" Susanne said with an enthusiasm that was clearly over-embellished.

 

"The whole school is getting a hot pretzel today. For free!"

 

"Uh huh," I respond cautiously.

 

"Not just Charlie's class. The whole school! Everyone! Everyone in the school will be eating a hot pretzel!"

 

"OK, I get it."

 

"Isn't it great???"

 

I applaud her use of sarcasm. Something I take pride in. We both know full well, this was in fact not great. Not great at all. Hot pretzels have never been kind.

 

"What is he?" I asked.

 

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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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"Are you going to eat what your wife made?"

 

It was loud. It was purposely loud to get everybody's attention. It was coming from an unexpected source. I was ready.

 

"If you mean the cake then, heck yes I am having some. Why?"

 

"Hello, you are diabetic!"

 

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It may be strange or alarming, but I've often imagined being kidnapped. I watch a lot of TV crime dramas, so the thoughts tend to race through my head. I imagine my reaction as a human, as a woman, and as a diabetic.

 

As a human, I know that I'm not giving up without a fight. My life is precious and valuable, whether someone else sees that or not. I would try every plan to escape or leave every clue to allow the police to do their jobs quickly and efficiently.

 

As a woman, the same truths apply. I'm not giving up without a fight. I refuse to give in to whatever threats unless I've tried my hardest to get away or delay the action.

 

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Tick, tock, tick, tock.

 

Every one of us with diabetes hears that clock ticking away.

 

Glucose, insulin, ketones, tests.
The endless cycle never rests.
Fail once to heed the daily strife
And that day you may lose your life.

 

Alarmists are everywhere. Family, friends, strangers, all with the best of intentions.

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People with diabetes, and those touched by diabetes, follow their journey with the disease through a myriad of winding emotional paths. Depression is very common for those newly diagnosed, sadness can rear its head at different stages in the game, and a little humor and humility can even find the door to expose itself from time to time. The keys for controlling those doors are littered all over the place and on  Wrld Diabetes Day today, you can follow this map of internet hotspots. Expose diabetes for all that it is, good and bad, and then share it with others. Find an emotion and embrace it!

 

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One of the mixed advantages of living far away from family is that when you do finally get home, there's a lot of catching up to be done. Because we've been away and not in all that close touch, we're considered the "neutral third parties", and the updating comes chock full of dish.

 

Nowhere is this more apparent then when diabetes comes into play. Siblings who'd never "rat" on each other in full-court, whole-family press, will each take you on the side and let you know that the other's numbers are being kept "too high" or "too low", that s/he doesn't test (enough), or that s/he keeps forgetting how many of which pills need to be taken, when. Sometimes one will say another's medication dosages have been increased "because s/he's not watching what s/he's eating". It's Diabetes Police by Proxy (DPP).

 

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Some of you may find this strange, but I typically travel with diet soda.

 

I should say that I don't load up the car each morning on my way to work (although I do consume one can on the drive in), but whenever we are going to visit a friend or family member, I bring some soda.

 

What I usually do is stop by the store, pick up several bottles or 12 packs, and take one in with me when I get to the destination. That way, if they all get consumed, I know I have more in the car as backup.  And there are no uncomfortable moments when I am leaving if it's not all consumed - I take the leftovers with me.

 

I have a few friends who always tell me: "George, I know you are coming so I always get diet for you!" 

 

To which I reply: "Great! I will drink yours first and take this home!" 

 

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Whether or not we recognize it explicitly, we are all caregivers (aka, T3s). Whether we serve a family member, someone in our neighborhood or church, or just others on the dLife forums and in the dLife community, we are each part of someone else's diabetes support team.

 

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