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As a diabetic, I often feel like my life is an "Emergency Preparedness Commercial." You know the kind of commercials during hurricane season or right before huge winter storms? They tell everyone to have water, candles, nonperishable foods, a first aid kit, etc. That seems to be my life: constant preparedness.
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Well, it is official. The inhaled insulin
Exubera is being pulled from the market by Pfizer. An ADA
article reports that Pfizer took a $2.8 Billion hit to end its involvement with the sale of the drug. Doctoral and patient support, as well as profits, has been too dismal to warrant any kind of extended sale of what was seen as a breakthrough in diabetes management by many.
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When to tell?
I have accepted a new job. It's in a new city (half way across the country!!). It's with new people. New people who don't know that I have diabetes.
It was during my four-year tenure at my current job that I was diagnosed. I had no problem telling just about everyone in my very small office about diabetes. I already knew them and their personalities.
It's different now. I have a problem with going in to the boss on my first day and saying, "Hey, guess what..." I also have a problem with waiting three months until my benefits kick in, or even longer when someone sees me checking my sugar (or doesn't know what to do if I pass out) to say, "Oh, yeah, maybe I should have told you sooner."
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I can remember the time when I had my worst low blood sugar. As diabetics, we all have a "hypoglycemia story". Some instances stand out more than others. Some of us can't recall our bad moments because we were probably passed out from being so low. I can actually say, proudly I might add, that I have never once lost consciousness in all my 13 years of living with this "AWESOME" (sarcasm) disease. I have never actually had to use the infamous glucagon kit. However, that's not to say that I haven't had some darn scary times.
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I woke up this morning about 30 minutes before my alarm to answer a call from nature. I stumble to the restroom and as usual I set my
insulin pump on the sink counter. I should explain that I have a relatively small bathroom so the sink is pretty much half of the room. Well, no sooner do I set my pump down that it slides off and slams on the floor.
Ouch!
I have had my pump fall before but this one sounded extra hard. I leaned over and picked up my poor pump to see if it was okay. It was not. The screen was blank and even though I closed my eyes and wished for it to be fixed, it did not work.
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Over the weekend, I had a
low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la
Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner.
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Over the weekend, I had a
low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la
Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner.
(READ MORE)
Over the weekend, I had a
low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la
Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner.
(READ MORE)
On Thursday night, I found myself in an emergency room exam room at 2 am, waiting anxiously and staring up at a picture of a baby cocker spaniel posing cutely in a watering can.
No, don't worry. Charlie is fine. I'm fine too. Whole family is fine. This was an emergency room for pets. But wait, I don't even own a pet. I'm not even a pet person. I had to get up for work in a few hours. What was I doing?
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Sometimes I really want my friends to know about my diabetes. Other times, I really hate that they know anything about it at all.
My mom always told me to be open about being diabetic so that my friends would know how to treat lows and what to do in case of emergencies. She's right (why are mothers always right?!?). My friends need to know where my glucagon is in my house. They need to know the symptoms of low blood sugars. My friends need to be prepared for the emergency situations that come about when you're diabetic.
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