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

There are enough issues with the data from our diabetes devices to make the average PWD's head spin.

 

First off, there's the sheer volume of it. Consider that the average glucometer burns through 1500 readings a year -- which hikes up somewhere closer to 6000 if you have type 1 diabetes and don't have a continuous monitor you can rely on. Then there are the carb counts, food data bases, multiple basal rates, special basal rates, bolus wizards, special bolus calculations, and the smartphone calendar alarm to manage them all. Those of us with type 2 diabetes may not have all the insulin data to collect, but we have instead the blood pressure data, and along with the caloric impact of the foods we eat, we have to capture the fat distribution and the sodium levels. For all of us who exercise regularly, there are the heart-rate monitor data, the treadmill, elliptical, and cyclocomputer statistics, and the rep charts for weights.

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I should be at the gym right now, but I'm not. Instead, I'm bringing up a low after a torrential afternoon high. And I'm fighting back an endless downpour of tears. Tonight, I am struggling. Tonight, I am broken.

 

Unfortunately, this struggle isn't so new to me lately. I've been struggling for awhile now. I've been fighting off the heartbreak week after week. Tonight, I just don't seem to have the energy anymore. Life is getting to me. Stress is getting to me. Diabetes is definitely getting to me.

 

There is no overwhelming grief at the moment. No one thing that makes my heart break into a thousand pieces and my stomach turn the way it currently is. It's just all these small things lately that are adding up and keeping me from feeling the way that I know I should be feeling.

 

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Yesterday we had a special “God and Country” service at church. We typically do a similar service under the flag pole on the 4th of July each year but this year we decided to do that service on Sunday instead so hopefully more of the congregation can enjoy and participate in this moving service.

The service starts outside under the flag pole. The local boy scouts troop retires the flag we fly, presents it to a veteran in our congregation, and posts a new flag. I love this stuff because, although I may not seem like it, I am a very patriotic person.

After that we all went into the church to continue the service. Myself, my daughter, and a few other singers all stood upfront and sang all of the theme songs from each military branch. As we sang them we had any veterans from each branch stand to be recognized.
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Have you ever played the superpower game?  You know, the one where you select a superpower. 

 

If I could have a superpower, it would be the power to mend.  When I say mend, I mean I'd want to be able to fix broken things, sew on patches to life's tears, make things right. 

 

But in playing the superpower game, it's always best to consider consequences.  With my power, how would I decide what needs mending?  How would I decide which broken things should remain broken?  How would I manage the needs of so many and so much - the desperate pleadings of people who hope beyond hope for repair of some kind?  How would I handle the disappointment of those whose requests for mending butted up against my own judgment that some things should stay torn?  

 

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Even superheroes have their weaknesses.

 

Charlie came home from school with a look of disappointment on his face.

 

"I didn't do well on the test," he told Susanne.

 

The test, recommended by his teacher, was an evaluation for advanced classes. He really wanted to do well on it.

 

The next day the guidance counselor called and Susanne mentioned that Charlie felt he did poorly on the test. The guidance counselor told Susanne that it couldn't have been more opposite than what really happened. She was giddy. Not only did he do extremely well on the test; a section on solving puzzles was the best she had ever seen from any student. Ever! She couldn't wait to pull Charlie out his classroom to tell him the news.

 

Sports have always come easy for Charlie. He excels in all that he plays and is more determined than anyone I know.

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There are some things I just don't get. Like why I've gained 2 lb. since starting my exercise goal for this month.
The first six weeks on Byetta I lost 4 lb. without exercise or really any adjustment in my diet. Now that I'm exercising and making more of an effort to cut out the junk in my diet, I've gained 2 lb. What the heck is up with that?
OK, I know it's been less than a week since I started walking (six days in fact, and I had to skip one day), but seriously why isn't the weight just melting off me yet? Imagine my disappointment when I jumped on the scale after having walked two or three days in a row (not to mention barely eating at a number of meals) to see that I had gained weight! (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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I don't dream so much anymore of a cure.  I suppose I feel that in cutting off the dream of a cure, I spare myself disappointment or heartache in the long run. 

 

But today is a Friday, and Fridays are for dreaming.  Letting go of stressors.  Play. 

 

So I let myself dream this morning for a few minutes in bed before I got up.  I sat in bed, knees bent, Curtis in bed beside me, snoring away.  I looked at my insulin pump site, which is already red and irritated after just one day (fantastic, that'll need to go sooner rather than later) and the litter of scars on from my knees to my hips from past sites.  I looked at my fingers, one at a time.  Dirty-looking callouses looking back at me.  

 

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In an exclusive interview with Glamour magazine, Academy Award-nominated actress Salma Hayek admitted that she suffered from diabetes during her pregnancy. The news of her temporary bout with diabetes has the entertainment industry shocked and wanting answers.
In what has already been a turbulent year for Hollywood following the Halle Berry public relations disaster, another mega-celebrity has come forward to reveal her struggles with the disease.
Avon, for which Hayek has served as spokesperson since 2004, announced that it has begun an internal investigation into whether or not Hayek had diabetes while representing the cosmetics giant. (READ MORE)

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