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Eat dinner no later than five pm and fast until seven am. Perform five blood sugar checks throughout the night. Fast until twelve pm, six pm or ten pm. Check your blood sugar every two hours. Does this sound familiar?
You guessed it. Basal tests. My least favorite thing about the pump.
I hate having to eat at a required time (and worrying about what I eat to make sure there isn't a huge delay). I hate having to check my blood sugar every two hours. I find it a little frightening to fast for that many hours at a time. Plus, I just hate fasting (I like to eat when I'm hungry). (READ MORE)

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Is it so much to ask for to want to wake up every hour from midnight to 7 am and take small drops of blood from my 5-year-old son all night long? I'm sure this is every dad's fantasy. Insane, the things I wish for now.
We have been trying to do overnight basal testing for Charlie now for thirteen days straight. We just can't do it. It's absolutely ridiculous. Every single night we're forced to abort our mission before we can even get started. What's most frustrating is that all we need as a prerequisite is to have him somewhere in the 120 to 220 area at about 9 pm-10 pm, when the dinner insulin has run its course. Amazingly, we can't do it. Night after night. (READ MORE)

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It's not like we're pressuring Charlie to begin testing himself. Whenever he is ready to take on that responsibility is fine with us.  But it honestly seems like it's never going to happen. He has no desire to take the reins. I remember feeling the same way when we went through potty training with him. It took forever.

 

I figured he'd be 18 years old, on his back in the living room – legs up in the air - holding moist baby wipes and rash ointment while a girl named Amanda waited in the dining room dressed in cap and gown, flicking cigarette ash into a paper cup. "Mom! C'mon! Are you gonna change my diaper or what!!! We're gonna miss graduation!"

 

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On Tuesday, Brian Bosh (@bosh) tweeted, "Do you (as a #diabetic) avoid publicly announcing extreme blood sugars for fear of discrimination regarding future coverage? #bgnow private."

 

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The first week in August marked the start of the 2010 run of the New York Renaissance Faire, an event in which the most popular exhibitions involve aiming long, pointy objects at impossibly small, circular targets. Whether it's an 8-foot-long lance hooking a three-inch-diameter ring, or a 26" arrow aimed at a bull's eye 100 yards away, or a sword or spear looking to unhinge a 1/2"-diameter ring of chain-mail armour, these are impressive displays of marksmanship and control -- kind of like trying to keep one's blood glucose levels between the mythical "102" and "104" (mg/dl) of glucometer-packaging displays, regardless of what one eats and when. (READ MORE)

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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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Many of us have been a-twitter about World Diabetes Day, bringing attention to the epidemic proportions of Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes and the Big Blue Test. Seattle had a bike ride as did Victoria, BC. Philadelphia had an event at the Temple University School of Podiatric Medicine. Those of us in the New York City area celebrated with a huge D-Meetup and pizza party. The indefatiguable Allison set things up in a Midtown office building. At its peak, over 20 Type 1s, Type 2s, and Type 3s gathered to enjoy each other's company and take part in the Big Blue Test.

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Since becoming a "Weight Watcher," I have noticed the amount of stress in my life has increased. Having diabetes means I carry around a bunch of stuff with me where ever I go. I have my Glucose testing machine, strips, lancets, glucose tabs, and not to mention my carb counting book.
And now I have to add my Dining Out Guide which gives me the point values to restaurant food, my sliding scale for figuring point values, my tracker which I log my points in, and the Food Guide that has point values for all kinds of foods. So you see, I have more stuff to remember these days then I did before. (READ MORE)

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"Yeah, I'll do it," Maeve said, quickly unzipping the black diabetes bag and removing the contents onto her lap.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
She was a little too eager to get her hands on a sharp foreign object and take blood from her little brother. Maeve cracked open an alcohol wipe and rubbed Charlie's fingertip then loaded the meter with a test strip, deftly juggling the instruments. She had never done it before, but she's witnessed it , (one sec whilst I do a little math) , about 17,500 times. It's an unusual thing for an 8-year-old to do. Not your normal car trip activity such as I Spy or the license plate game.
"Just put the striped part into the ..."
"Uh huh. I know." (READ MORE)

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The other night two of my buddies and I met up for a night of Racquetball and dinner together. This, like Disc Golf, has become a new obsession with me. It is yet another way for me to find a fun way to exercise. I think about playing all day long! It truly has become an obsession.
My favorite thing about Racquetball is the amount of sweat I produce. When you are exercising and sweating, you just know that you are doing something positive. Albeit, I am usually short of breath, slow to get to the ball, rarely win a game, and take breaks often, I still cannot get enough. Each time we play I find I can play harder longer. (READ MORE)

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