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

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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What types of spiritual practices or mental exercises do you use to help you cope with diabetes? For me, I like to mix things up and do whatever feels right at the time. Typically I use martial arts, exercise or various "mental exercises" like praying, meditation and reading spiritual books. I also love to listen to a variety of music and sit and relax around fires. This weekend will have me trying something that I have never attempted before but something that I have always been interested and curious about - a Native American sweat lodge.
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After a very long day at work and a difficult drive home, I walked into my house and announced that I was home but going to take nap. I marched into my room, dropped my bag at the end of the bed and hit the hay.
My journey into the land of dreams was almost immediate it seemed because no sooner did I close my eyes that I was woke up in a dark room covered in sweat. I had kicked the blankets off and was trying to muster up the energy to sit up.
I could not do it. I heard footsteps around the house. Waiting for those footsteps to get close to my door so I could moan loud enough for someone to come in seemed like an eternity. And still I had no energy. I could hear my wife on the phone talking in what I thought was the dining room and my daughter listening to the Grease soundtrack in her room. (READ MORE)

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I should start this post by saying there is a history of heart disease and stroke in my family. 

 

 

My father, at 43 had a heart attack resulting in a quadruple bypass surgery.  The doctors at the time of the surgery told him that had he not quit smoking eight years earlier, he'd be dead, given the condition of his arteries. 

 

 

My maternal grandmother, who struggled with insulin dependent diabetes (we're unsure if it was actually type 2 or LADA) and its complications, for the last 35 years of her life, died at 62 of a massive heart attack.

 

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Amidst the candles, the dreidels, the latkes (potato pancakes), gifts, and gelt (either real money or foil-covered chocolate coins), there is the maggid (story). The story of a people, oppressed by a new king who wishes them to assimilate into a different religion and culture (or to assimilate more fully into that culture), a king who defiles the holiest of holy sites, families of resistance fighters who perish -- completely -- in the quest to keep one's lifestyle and beliefs alive, and a small, hermetically-sealed bottle of oil which -- miraculously -- burned for eight days, a full week longer than it should have, enough time for its replacement to be made. Ness gadol haya sham -- a great miracle happened there.

 

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Last night.

 

 

Well, it's about 10 pm and we are in the danger zone. Charlie had a couple of slices of pizza with thick crust at about 6 pm. So I'm right here waiting for pizza to do its despicable business. No matter what we do, it's like we are against all odds. It happens time after time.

 

 

All I need is a miracle right about now. I'm afraid we'll be up all night long. I just want to get through the night without jabbing needles in his arm and without ketones and without cursing under my breath. It's like one thing leads to another. I can't go for that. Not tonight.

 

 

At 99, his blood sugar is borderline and eerily fine at the moment, but how will I know it won't still take a terrible turn for the worse? Here I go again. I feel like I'm constantly playing this game. Diabetes, you spin me round. Round and round.

 

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In some traditions, if a person has survived a serious illness or a serious trial in life, he or she will be given a new name, symbolic of a new life, of a resurrection of sorts. A diabetes diagnosis sets us each of us on a new life: a life of glucose testing, carb counting, diet watching, and medication dosing. The ways in which we react to the diagnosis, deal with it, and accept it in our lives changes us profoundly; we are never quite the same people we were before.

 

It is almost as if the "old" us had died, and we had been reborn again.

 

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Today's DBlog Week Prompt: Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our “Diabetes Hero”.  It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire, someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3.  It might be a fabulous endo or CDE.  It could be a d-celebrity or role-model.  It could be another DOC member.  It’s up to you – who is your Diabetes Hero??

 

This afternoon, I decided to venture into the past. At my college graduation party, my family wrote me special notes in a journal to wish me the best on the new chapter in my life. I've read them a dozen times when I need some encouragement, love, or family wisdom. But today was different.

 

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Snapshots:

 

Fingertips that look dirty, but they're just scars.

 

Connect the dots patterns on my thighs.  Pump site marks.

 

The scoff when I pick up the cake.  And eat it too.

 

Big blue bruise on my arm from that insulin injection.  Ouch.

 

268 on the screen.  58 on the screen. 99 on the screen.  Two out of three ain't bad.

 

I told you I hate you.  My bloodsugar was low.  Guilt.

 

My back hurts.  Not kidney failure, yard work. 

 

Spot in my vision.  Nope, just something in my contact lense. 

 

Foot tingling.  It was under your butt, dummy.

 

Cure?  Nope, cinnamon and disappointment.  

 

Hope?  Always.

 

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