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

It seems to me that nearly every female in the diabetes online community has thyroid issues also. I got curious about this and did some reading. Nearly a third of Type 1 patients have thyroid disorders, usually an underactive thyroid. It does indeed affect more women than men. This is because if you have one auto-immune disease, like Type 1, you are at higher risk for another. As if people with diabetes need another challenge. The linked article also cites a higher than normal incidence of thyroid disease in Type 2 diabetics, but no statistics are given. (READ MORE)

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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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Last week when I suggested that the diabetes community design an awareness symbol akin to the breast cancer campaign's pink ribbon, I apparently hit a nerve with someone.

Nordtorp says he's not into the secret handshake thing and that ribbons and pins don’t make a difference. He doesn't think that wearing a trinket will cause more money to be funnelled into diabetes research.

I have to say that I whole-heartedly disagree. If someone asked you what are the major illnesses -- chronic or otherwise -- that affect the U.S. population, would the common person identify diabetes as one of them? Without a connection to diabetes, I doubt it. Does the common person even really understand what diabetes is? Not many.

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I've always loved my hair. I used to say it was one of my best features. Once I understood and appreciated my curls, I learned how to take care of them. Throughout college and before having kids, I had long (mid-back length), curly hair.

 

I started cutting my hair shorter around the time No. 1 was born. I would go back and forth between wanting it short and wanting it long. The Mr. has always liked my hair long, and I think for the most part I prefer it that way.

 

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I was grocery shopping when the phone rang. I didn't feel the vibration in my coat pocket; the call went to voicemail. As I was checking out, I checked my phone. Two messages. One from my mom and one from the doctor's office.

 

"Hi, Miss Guerin. This is G from Dr. K's office. Your lab results are back. I'd like to talk to you. Please call me back at..."

 

My heart sank. I've heard those words too many times. At 21 years old, I shouldn't be hearing those words!!! If your lab results are fine, they don't call and ask for a return phone call. They tell you that everything is fine or that the results are in the mail. You're not important if you're healthy.

 

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Monday morning, I headed to the endo in a state of hope and undeniable fear. I wanted Metformin, but had no idea how it might go in order to get it...being type 1 and all. I've been so run down by the PCOS symptoms that I'm dealing with, especially the acne. And I needed this to get through, to try, to continue hoping.

 

So when I posed the question of using Metformin, my heart was in my throat. Would Dr. K give me the request? Would she work with me to possibly solve some of my biggest health issues?

 

No. The risk that Metformin causes for acidosis was too much for a type 1, in her opinion. It just isn't an option for me...in her words.

 

It felt like a hammer to the thumb, a blow to the stomach, a slap in the face. The last piece of hope that I was holding on to...stripped from me. All because I'm a type 1 diabetic. The one last try that I had to solve my PCOS issues...gone.

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I usually research every prescription I get (minus typical decongestants, cold medicine, antibiotics, etc) before I even think of filling them. I've never been one to trust that the doctor knows everything. Too many years of the doctor knowing just too little of everything. Plus a strong sense of taking care of my body in a more natural way...all leave me wary of conventional medicine.

 

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I've lost 16 pounds in the past 7 months or so. The bulk of it was lost over the summer when I was working out on average four times a week. And the last few pounds slid off within the first month of school, with the increase in activity on a daily basis and the lack of frequent calorie consumption.

 

My clothes are baggy now. I have jeans from high school that I'm still squeezing into though, so I'm determined to lose a little bit more weight. My body feels better, looking in the mirror is much more appealing these days than it has been in the past. And I'm proud of myself for working so hard to make this happen.

 

So when I showed my mom a pair of pants that have about three inches to spare around the waist, her response threw me. "That's really great!" But it was followed with "Are you sure you're not losing weight because you're running high?"

 

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I sat on the bathroom floor. A world of cold, white surrounded me. My hands gripped the edge of the toilet. My stomach turned. My body ached. Chills ripped through me. I moved closer to the toilet and he stood a little closer behind me. Standing, ready and waiting. To hold my hair back. To do whatever I needed him to do.

 

This is what dating looks like. A pinpoint moment in an array of events. The responsibility of caring. The desperation of having chronic health issues. The pain of having your body so enveloped by its own detrimental mechanisms.

 

Wednesday, I found out some bad news. I didn't want to be alone. So I called the guy I'm seeing (recall, we call him Marvin for no good reason). Marvin told me to come over and greeted me with a hug. Just the kind of thing a broken heart needs.

 

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My laparoscopy went quite well on Thursday. My blood sugars held steady around 180 to 200. I woke up easily and quickly from the anesthesia with no lingering side effects, although my pain upon waking was definitely at a 10. My incisions have been a tiny bit little sore when I move certain ways and the gas used to extend the abdomen is still floating around inside me (causing shoulder pain even 4 days later).

 

I'm back at school today, but I'm still trying to take it easy to give my body a little more time to recover. My throat had been a little scratchy from the tube for anesthesia. And that gas is still making squishing noises when I move. I've been trying to eat well the past few days along with moving around as much as possible so that gas will dissipate faster. Unfortunately, it's just taking its sweet time.

 

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