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

Most will call it dry mouth or cotton mouth , some might say they have a waterless windpipe or a parched palate, acting disturbed by their unquenched uvula, and yet another might compare it to having a mouthful of sweaters mucking up the place to no end. Whatever alliterative or clothed name it goes by, the sticky mouth feel of a high blood sugar is enough to furrow my brow to its limit. (READ MORE)

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Some days, my diabetes control is like a sleek, hot-pink BMX. It takes me for smooth, yet daring rides and lets me, in the words of Napoleon Dynamite "take it off some sweet jumps."
What's great is having several of those days in a row - as I've had lately. Only two or three bloodsugars out of range - and even those were mere blips - a 62, a 159... Nothing outrageous. That's when I start to get comfortable. I settle in for the ride, enjoy the air on those jumps. (READ MORE)

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I started out at 192. I did a correction bolus and a carb bolus. The carb bolus was for four slices of pizza. I used the square bolus over 3 hours, hoping that I wouldn't end up too high.

 

I ate my pizza slices, enjoying every bite. By the time I finished eating, I had about two hours left on my square bolus. That should be perfect, I thought.

 

An hour later, I was 87. I still had almost half the insulin to deliver, so I suspended the bolus and drank a juice. I planned to check my blood sugar again within the next two hours to watch for the peak, then bolus the remaining insulin.

 

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Friday was my endo check up. It's the second appointment that I've had with the new doctor. And I'm still incredibly pleased with how it's going. She is nearly everything that I could ask for in an endo, especially at this point in my life.

 

I spent about an hour with her, reviewing my logbook and discussing my issues. The best part is that she doesn't make me feel any more guilty than I already do for not doing things 100% all the time with my diabetes. She's understanding and accepting.

 

We talked about my post-breakfast highs for quite awhile. Everything from trying a lower carb ratio (done, still see highs with nasty lows after) to the types of foods I eat for breakfast. She's on board with my next suggestion of going on Symlin.

 

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Don't go swimming right after eating lest you drown. -- Advice to schoolchildren, circa 1970.

 

When our gradeschool teachers started teaching us the basics of physiology, they taught us that blood brought oxygen and nutrients to our brains, our digestive systems (simplified to "stomachs"), and our limbs, and that these three systems were constantly battling for better allocation of resources.

 

According to our teachers, our brains always won out because they had to control the rest of our bodies.

 

Our legs came second, for survival reasons. The concepts of "adrenaline rush" and "fight or flight" were simplified to our grade level.

 

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Ah! It's a new day and my fasting blood sugar comes in at a sweet 103 mg/dl. "Not too shabby," I think, maybe feeling a bit arrogant.
I go about the business of the day - exercise, hop in the shower, dry the hair, feed the cat - get in the car for work. Drive 30 of the 45 minutes it takes to get there.
And then I think - caught in a wave of abject panic, "Where is my pump?"
I do the pat down, you know the one. I pat with flat, frantic hands at my bra, my hip, my waistband. And I know then exactly where my pump is. On the shelf in the bathroom, pumping insulin into oblivion instead of into me.
"Man." I think. I also think. Alright, maybe I say aloud - a number of colorful words not suitable for a family website.
And I head back toward home, calling the office to let them know that I've been delayed. (READ MORE)

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I needed a set change last night. I am not one of the good diabetics that always do their set changes the same time of day. When I run out, I change. Anyhow, last night was one of those times.
My kids wanted to play some Nintendo Wii before they had to take their evening showers so I decided that I would change my set first and then we could play. I switched from my left leg to my right leg. Typically I start at the top of my thigh on the far right and then move my way across my thigh until I have to move down and start over. Sort of an infusion set typewriter. (READ MORE)

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It's my time...to have the best of both worlds.

The last week has been filled with high numbers. Consistent results in the 300's. Morning numbers in the 170's and higher. Only two lows, brought on by extensive Humalog use. 217 is not a pleasant average to look at.

 

I'm positive that I know exactly why these numbers are all so high. Which frustrates me (the reason, not the knowing). A bad mix of birth control pills and Accutane. Both have side effects like high blood sugar or blood sugar changes.

 

I'd definitely say these were high and definitely changed. And I'm very annoyed. I've raised my Lantus to 31 units in the evening, which has brought lower numbers for today. So I'll leave it at 31 units for the next day or two in order to see how it's working long term.

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Last Thursday was opening night for Godspell.

Our church has never done a musical before so being a part of it was special. I auditioned back in February and was hoping to get the John the Baptist role. In fact, I had been practicing that characters parts months before auditions.

My pastor (and director) felt that I should have another part. The lead. Jesus.

I was not excited at first. In fact, I was quite nervous and thought that I should be the LAST person to play Jesus. I am definitely not worthy but my pastor saw something I didn’t.

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My pump and gravity are having a close and stormy relationship of late.  That terrible clack against the bathroom floor tiles has been an all too common sound in the past several weeks.

 

I wear my pump inside of my clothing, tucked into my underwear.  Some of my underwear have a little pocket sewn in, care of my mother.  When I'm wearing those pocketed panties, the pump's tendency to hit the floor lessens, but it still happens now and again.  I believe my pump replacement needs exceed those of the average diabetic, and it's probably my fault.   

 

I should be more careful.  My inclination to be in a bit of a rush and to be a little carefree has resulted in at least two cracked pumps over the years and once, even though there were no visible damages, a pump I sent back was noted as "dropped or jostled" when it failed and I had to return it for another.  

 

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