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

My girlfriend and I just finished watching a program on TV called "Rock of Love". The star of the show is Bret Michaels, a type 1 diabetic of many years and former lead singer of the rock and roll band, "Poison". The show is all about Bret attempting to find his "rock of love" and tonight's episode was the season finale. (READ MORE)

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I don't find it common place when I get excited about diabetes, but yesterday, oh boy. I had my first appointment with a new P.A. and I think I gave him a hand cramp!
This visit marked my first day with a new bout of medical pros. I signed up with a new primary doctor, new endocrinologist, new P.A., and even new crabby dr.'s office receptionists that somehow came with the package. (They are another story though). (READ MORE)

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I wanted to recognize someone who deserves credit for the amazing thing they did. This person (we'll call him Joe) performed an incredible task without even considering the consequences. Unfortunately, not many people realize the extent of Joe's actions. They carry on with their daily lives and never think twice about what Joe did. But for me, Joe is a hero. (READ MORE)

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"I totaled my truck”  

 

I looked at my friend in shock. He did not look hurt or anything but his lower lip quivered enough to tell me it was bad.  

 

 

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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. (READ MORE)

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Olivia met a girl at Clara Barton last year named Sam. As luck would have it, Sam lived the next town over. The two girls hit it off really well and exchanged phone numbers at the end of the session.
I admit I was eager to foster the friendship because Olivia doesn't have any other friends with diabetes. She knows some D kids, but they're all considerably younger than her and she doesn't have anything, other than diabetes, in common with them. The other kids in school with diabetes are not in her classes and she hasn't made friends with any of them.
Olivia invited Sam to sleep over a couple of times and the girls got along really well. The only fault I could find with Sam was her picky eating habits and considering we're talking twelve year-old, squealy girls here, that's saying something. (READ MORE)

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Back in 1993, diabetes was a very bulky disease. Meters were two or three times their size now. Lancet devices didn't "ping" the way they do these days; it was more of a "thwack" with no control on how far it went into tiny finger tips. Strip bottles were double their size.

 

Those basic necessities added up to a hefty weight alone. On top of that, we carried rolls of Lifesavers, a glucagon kit, alcohol swabs, extra syringes and lancets, logbooks, tubes of icing, and random tidbits that got added along the way. It was enough to weight a four year old to the floor.

 

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One of the most frustrating things about diabetes is how easily it can side-swipe you. In a matter of seconds, you can be totally knocked to the floor. Even if you're starting a brand new job the next morning.

 

Last night, I'd eaten dinner but I was still hungry a couple of hours later. So I heated a potato in the microwave and made sure to lower my Humalog bolus to avoid lows overnight. I also cut my Lantus by two units to offset the nerves form the new job.

 

Shortly after climbing into bed, a sudden wave of nausea mixed with panic hit me. I was low. The meter confirmed. 85, a drop from 158 after only half an hour. With quite a few units of insulin left floating around my body, I was concerned that an 85 could easily turn into something worse if I didn't consume quite a few carbs. I grabbed a juice, dreading the addition to my already too full stomach.

 

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I started watching a new show on Fox called Touch. It stars Keifer Sutherland as the father of a child who is described as special needs. The kid doesn't talk, can't be touched and essentially doesn't communicate. Kiefer accidentally discovers that his son is "speaking" to him through numbers. These numbers are a road map for essentially helping people or bringing them together. It's almost as if the kid is clairvoyant.

 

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I have three glucagon prescriptions at the moment. One at work, one beside the bed, and one in the bathroom. I don't really remember how many times I've actually used the little red box, but I do know that I never want to be without an active prescription.

 

I absolutely hate using it, but for someone prone to severe hypoglycemia, I know that it's vital to keep around. I don't generally carry it in my purse or anything of that sort, but if I feel the need, I do toss it into my bag. I also always have it when I'm going out of town, sleeping over at a friend's, or any time I'm sleeping away from home.

 

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