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We found 8 result(s) that match your search "grapes":

We're constantly weighing things. Weighing grams. Weighing negatives. Weighing the lesser of two evils.
On the soccer field at halftime I weigh the effect grapes will have on Charlie when his blood sugar is 260. I weigh this against the sadness he'll have if he's the only kid unable to enjoy a halftime snack. This one's easy though. I'll never ever subject him to exclusion.
But, how many grapes? I don't like that he's 260, but he's running around like a wildebeest for two hours. He should come down. Right? Well, maybe. He may also go up higher with all that adrenaline pumping. He may just stay the same somehow and then plummet later. I can't bolus him and risk a low.
But there's that difficult decision again. The rest of his teammates are reclining on soccer ball pillows and popping grapes like Julius Caesar and I've allotted Charlie a measly three. (READ MORE)

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I think (man I hope I'm not jinxing this!) that I have nailed my walking routine. Not like I have figured out my route or when to go or anything like that. What I mean is that I think it's close to being a habit.
For example, several days last week my alarm was not set right--I'm pretty sure it was human error (*blush*)--but my internal clock (or my angels) still woke me up at 5:30 a.m. and I was able to go for a walk. Although I was running a few minutes later than usual, I didn't take the bait to just say "screw it" and roll over for an extra 20 minutes of precious sleep.
Yesterday, I could have very easily avoided the walk and was actually quite close to do so, but having skipped Friday (I went to all school mass with No. 1) and Saturday (No. 2's birthday party) it was actually pretty easy to convince myself to get out the door and go. (READ MORE)

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Hey, type 2s,are you eyeing a nice dinner out with the family at that new Italian restaurant where you'll likely want to fill up on your favorite pasta? Would you like a piece of cake at your friend's birthday party? Or maybe you'd like a handful of grapes.
Can't do it, though, right? Because your oral medications-or even Byetta, if you're on it-don't have enough umph to cover that many carbs. Heck, those meds won't cover more than 60 g. of carbs at one meal-even if they're good carbs. (READ MORE)

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Lieutenant Frog Skin, Lieutenant Seaweed , grab a helmet, a rifle and fall in. We strike at dawn.
Just when I was starting to worry that a cure was very, very far off, I just received word from the battlefields that these two brave new recruits have joined the ranks in the fight against diabetes. But fear not. They are not alone. Broken into platoons via category, our army looks like this:
Foods: grapes, brown rice, pumpkins, honey, black tea, red wine, bitter melon
Animals: pigs, lizard spit, mice, frog skin
Plants: seaweed wrap, doob (aka common green grass)
All fighting diabetes. We should be fine.
As promised, here is the last of the diabetes Mad Libs entries. This one comes from Penny. (READ MORE)

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I think it's time to lower my Lantus. I'm continuing to have severe night lows and other drops throughout the day that range from the 70s to low 100s. It's beginning to interrupt my normal routine and it's greatly affecting my sleep. So tonight, I'm planning to lower my Lantus by one unit and see how that does.

 

Today has been like a cured nightmare. I was 55 overnight (after drinking half a 7up because I was 122 before bed). Thanks to an overtreat, I spiked to 242. I took my normal correction bolus (3 units Humalog), tried to sleep off a tension headache, and woke up at 69 with no symptoms.

 

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Anything that gets delivered to our home in the form of a box or a large envelope sets the children into a carnal frenzy. They stand beside it jubilantly and crazy-eyed like cavemen around a first fire.

 

A food scale is something we always planned on getting but just never did. I always wondered, though, how close we were with our guesstimates.

 

Before I even finished reading the brief manual, Charlie had already determined the total weight of three storm trooper figures, a bar of soap, my car keys and his little brother's tongue.

 

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I discovered yesterday that there's an enormous difference between staring at your mortality in the form of diabetes and in the form of debilitating pain that could quite possibly lead to a pretty poor quality of life.

 

Diabetes is manageable. A high is treatable. A low is annoying, and treatable. Diabetes is a hassle but it's livable. As I type this post I'm dealing with a 57 mg/dL post dinner reading that's giving me the shakes. It pisses me off and leaves me dying for a cure, but in the day to day scheme of things diabetes is -- or can be -- a blip on the radar.

 

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