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November 21st, 2009
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My brand spanking new racquet was in hand. Croakies around my head holding my glasses in place. And with a racquetball glove on my right hand, I was ready to play.
Last night was racquetball night with my buddies. We usually go on Thursdays for a little exercise and fun. The last time we played I broke my racquet trying to hit a ball that was a little too close to the wall. Bummer, I really liked that racquet. My new graphite racquet seemed pretty sweet so I was ready to break it in and break a sweat. (READ MORE)


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I have had neuropathy in my both of my feet for a while now. I have almost gotten used to the tingling and burning pains that come now and then.


Almost.


The tingling is not nearly as bad as the feeling as if a lighted match is being held under your foot and it can be on the heel, at the arch or near my toes. Anywhere is free game and at any time. I hate it.


Lately I have noticed something different. My feet are cold, ice cold. I check for color to make sure blood is present and my pulse is there which is seems to be good but this temperature change freaks me out.


As I was going to bed I started to grunt in pain. My wife asked what was wrong and I told her how just the blankets rubbing on my feet hurt. And how no matter what I did, my feet felt like they were cold.


I lifted my right foot and pushed it up against my left shin to feel the cold and felt nothing.

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It was easy to ignore diabetes when the effects of poor blood sugar management were intangible. When I don't feel sick, when I feel normal despite eating carb-laden foods and not countering with exercise or insulin, I felt like if I had complications they were so far down the road that I would just deal with it then.
And then, something happened. Something that could have been a result of poor diabetes care or just a fluke or just something that happens to me.
Most winters the heel of my right foot cracks badly enough-despite daily lotion therapy and foot scrubs in the shower at least once a week-that it's painful to walk. Most winters that crack gets bad enough that I pick at it until it opens up and I can peel off the dead skin. There's no blood, nothing unmanageable. It's then that I can walk normally. This is winter time, when dry, cracked feet are normal for me. (READ MORE)


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Fair warning: if you’re the teeniest bit squeemish or gross out easily don’t read this post because I will be talking about feet and the skin on feet and what happens when the skin on my feet gets dry.
 

So, I’m no stranger to dry feet. I’ve had them forever. Midwestern winters can do a number on tootsies and the constant lack of humidity in the desert can do the same. I know it’s a big diabetic no-no, but I prefer not to wear shoes. If I’m planning to walk on hot coals, I’ll wear shoes, but for the most part at home (and sometimes at my desk at the office) I choose to go shoeless.
 

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I was reading through the dLife Viewpoints section today and saw a post that really hit home.

 

It's called "Bested by a Can of Tomato Soup" by Scott Johnson and I think it should be required reading for type 3's and other people without diabetes.

 

Counting carbs can sometimes be a difficult and maddening situation.

 

And we do it for virtually every meal every day. I mean, we are supposed to.

 

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Am I a man, or even a person- or just a type with an age? Should I be mad at what they think-what kind of war should I wage?
"You can overcome diabetes and make it part of your past" But as an autoimmune, I declare that their thinking should not last!
"Check your blood sugar; you seem to be having a bad day" Must it always be related to diabetes in every way?
"Should you be eating that brownie, too much sugar you know" Should I explain the meaning of bolus and my expertise in insulin flow?
"Why, here, did you go so low- you really deserve this excessive blame" It is just one bad day- not always easy to play this daily game! (READ MORE)


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My mom and I were making the second round on our neighborhood walk. Before I left the house, I didn't do my usual pre-walk routine. Typically, I check my blood sugar and lower my basal by 40% for two hours. I'm not sure how I forgot to do all that, but it never even crossed my mind.

 

That was until I started to get really tired. I felt fine. No butterflies in my stomach.  No fog surrounding my thoughts. Nothing to set off the LOW warning in my head. Except that I was dragging. My legs could barely move. My mom was steps ahead of me, walking at our normal pace.

 

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Yesterday I posted about my toe problem and I wanted to dig a little deeper into the fear that accompanies any little thing like a spot on my toe.

 

Ever since I was diagnosed with this stupid disease I have be told horrible stories of all the complications that can happen to me. Going blind, losing a limb, kidney’s failing, heart disease, neuropathy, stroke and more. All very real and very scary stuff.

 

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My blood sugars seem to have a mind of their own (more than normal) these past few days. I'm bouncing all over the place, doubting my meter's accuracy, and questioning my own ability to manage this stupid disease. I can't seem to stabilize and insulin doesn't seem to be working the way it needs to. Worst of all, I think it's really wreaking havoc on my body as my fatigue has increased and I'm waking up with sore throats.

 

Last week I noticed a few bouncing numbers, but nothing out of the ordinary. I'd been running high trying to get my insulin stabilized and figure out my problem areas. I'd also been snacking too much before bedtime for fear of lows since I was going to sleep with numbers like 104 and 111. Those left my morning numbers high setting my days off on the wrong diabetes foot.

 

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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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Lindsey Guerin
Lindsey GuerinLindsey is a typical, yet unique, Texas girl who loves shopping, movies and reading. She loves to travel and take risks. She dreams of diabetes cures, never-ending cheesecake and her own airplane. The rest you can discover in her blog! (Read More)
Julia
JuliaJulia lives behind the Tofu Curtain, in the Pioneer Valley, in Western Massachusetts. It's a nice place. She likes it there. Her eldest daughter, Olivia, has type 1 diabetes. She's also 13. It's a real toss-up as to which is more difficult -- the diabetes or the teen-age drama. (Read More)
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