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

It has been three years, seven months, and fourteen days since I was first sitting on that powder keg in the emergency room. I sat with my parents as my blood sugar was checked for the first time and the diagnosis was made. As plain as day, the doctor said the string of words I had never known before that time, type-1 diabetes. (READ MORE)

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When I opened my e-mail at work this morning, the blood test results that I was planning to e-mail my endo about first thing were already there. This was a series of blood tests my insurance company required before I can go on the pump. The first thing I saw was "A1C - 6.8".
"Kick Ass!" I thought, and saying something more work appropriate outloud. I was down from 7.9 in October, which was down from 9 three months before that. I was definitely doing good, definitely on the right track.
The actual test my insurance required was a C peptide. This measures the amount of insulin my pancreas makes. The less insulin you make, the lower your C peptide level.
For the last three years, I've been living life as a person with type 2 diabetes. My c peptide result of <0.1 shows otherwise. Essentially, I make little--very little--insulin. (READ MORE)

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When I opened my e-mail at work this morning, the blood test results that I was planning to e-mail my endo about first thing were already there. This was a series of blood tests my insurance company required before I can go on the pump. The first thing I saw was "A1C - 6.8".
"Kick Ass!" I thought, and saying something more work appropriate outloud. I was down from 7.9 in October, which was down from 9 three months before that. I was definitely doing good, definitely on the right track.
The actual test my insurance required was a C peptide. This measures the amount of insulin my pancreas makes. The less insulin you make, the lower your C peptide level.
For the last three years, I've been living life as a person with type 2 diabetes. My c peptide result of <0.1 shows otherwise. Essentially, I make little--very little--insulin. (READ MORE)

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First, an apology: I left you hanging a month ago with part two of my diagnosis story and haven't written the rest of it. So, I'm sorry, and here's what I hope to be part three of four.

 

I went through nearly two trimesters of my third pregnancy managing my blood sugar with Lantus, good food choices and exercise. Sometime in late September 2005, my blood sugars started not responding well enough to what I was doing, so my educator added Novolog to the mix. I loved it.

 

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Charlie was diagnosed with diabetes four years ago today.
Charlie never was a good sleeper. So when his twenty-minute naps changed to two-hour naps in the late summer of 2003, we saw it as a godsend. By September and into early October, we had to wake him from naps approaching three hours.
Suddenly he lost interest in eating. Susanne thought he surely had some sort of stomach virus brewing. But he never got sick.
Soon after, his appetite for fluids increased greatly as he voraciously guzzled tall glasses of milk and clawed at the refrigerator for more. It was never enough. This was followed by Charlie often waking up in the middle of the night drenched in urine from neckline to toe. I can remember Susanne constantly changing the sheets in the crib. (READ MORE)

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I have many friends with type 1 diabetes. I have a few friends and many relatives with type 2 diabetes. I possibly have the MOST boring diagnosis story I have ever heard.
In 2003 I was pregnant with my son. I was given a glucose tolerance test at 28 weeks gestation. If you've never had one of these; they make you fast 12 hours and go to the lab first thing. They draw blood, then you drink a nasty syrupy concoction that is 75 grams of glucose.
They draw blood again after 1 hour and again after another hour. Then I asked the nurse for a place to lie down and I crashed out (my first clue my results might be high). In an hour, they woke me and drew more blood then sent me on my way. (READ MORE)

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I got the call at work. I can't remember the date, but I'm pretty sure it was the day after No. 1's fifth birthday.
I have a pretty casual relationship with the nurse practitioner I see. I'm sure that's why he felt comfortable giving me the news at work instead of calling me into his office to drop the diabetes diagnosis bomb on me. I had been seeing Harry for several years, mainly for a host of small things and because it was pretty easy to get in to see Harry on short notice. Need to see the doctor? Can you wait two days? Need to see Harry? Can you be here in 20 minutes? Not to take anything away from his skills or anything, but I've established that I'm not a patient person. (READ MORE)

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When I wrapped my last entry, I had just received my diagnosis of type 2 diabetes, in a non-standard manner.
In hindsight, I'm sure she was just trying to scare me straight. Maybe I'm not really a type 2, but that's what the paperwork says and as you'll see; if it's not 1000% correct today, chances are very high that it will be within the next 10 years.
Gosh, definitely don't tell my insurance company, or I'll be scrounging for strips like my friend Julia. (READ MORE)

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So last winter, I decided that since I was committed to MDI, I may as well be on the pump. I knew it would offer me superior management.

 

I called my insurance company to find out what kind of coverage we had so that I could decide which pump company to call. I understood nothing the rep told me, so I emailed HR to get a translation. Turns out we were changing insurance companies in January 2008 and unless it was urgent, I was encouraged to wait until January.

 

I started to obsess about going on the pump. Couldn't get the darn thing off my mind and I didn't even have it yet. I would look nearly every day at various pump web sites, compare products online and think about how much easier things would be if I just had the pump already!

 

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So, when I left you in my diabetes diagnosis debacle, we were all screaming at Harry and Ruth for not knowing more about diabetes (even though Harry was studying to be a diabetes educator. Yeah, seriously.). (READ MORE)

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