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

I am awake, but not really.  There is a gray fog wrapped about my head, twirling in my eyes.  And my eyes are itching, watering a little.  My tongue and my teeth are absent, though I have a vague idea they're still there in my mouth.  Missing in action too, my ability to vocalize appropriately.  I test my speech and manage a breath and then "gug gug."  

 

I see the ceiling above my head, white with the one little crack, or is it a crack?  Crack?  Where did that word come from?  The ceiling sure looks bright.  I like bright.  Bride?  In white.  Like the ceiling.  Where am I?

 

"Home."  I think, and I might slur it aloud.   "Machine."  

 

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This is just a Happy Thanksgiving post. It'll be a little schmoopy, so if you're not into that kind of mush, carry on!
The holidays are a bittersweet time for my family; and for Bob's family. Over the past ten years, between the two families, we have lost seven grandparents, several aunts and uncles, and one young cousin. All between October and January. The holidays bring joy, but they also bring memories that can sometimes put a damper on things. This year, Bob and I had decided to make our own tradition. We had planned to get chinese food and some movies and stay at home. When Bob called his mother to ask one last time if she'd like for us to come there, and she said no she wasn't much in the holiday mood and woudn't be cooking, he shared our plan. The next day, his mom called back and said that she loved the idea of a new tradition and that she would be making homemade chinese food if we'd like to come. And, you know what? We CAN'T WAIT! (READ MORE)

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Every day, I live my life with diabetes the same way. I test my blood sugar, I treat lows and I change infusion sets. It is a part of me. Sometimes, it is all of me. I get frustrated on a regular basis with the highs and lows or the way it interrupts my entire life from school to dating to sleep.
It amazes me though when I look back on all those days. It makes me smile. As frustrated as I get and all the tears I cry, I don't remember diabetes as my past. Surely, it's there. I just don't remember the daily parts of the disease. (READ MORE)

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I don't remember being diagnosed. I don't remember being scared or angry. I don't remember the first shots or finger pricks. I hear stories sometimes, but those are rarely mentioned. I imagine how my little four-year-old self might react to learning about diabetes, but come up short most of the time.

 

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Public transit in Los Angeles county is not the best in the world, but we are getting better.

 

I hear about people in New York that don't even need cars because they can take the train where they want to go most of the time.

 

The problem here is that everything is so spread out that I just do not see how I could ever utilize the Metro system, as it's called here.

 

But this weekend I had a fun idea planned. We finally had a Saturday with no parties, no events, and no nothing so I figured it would be a good day for an adventure!

 

I told the kids to get up early and get all showered and ready to go. "We're going to have an adventure day!"

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There's a picture of me in pre-K with no smile and looking incredibly unhappy. It's a class picture and the rest of my classmates are all smiling and happy. When you turn the picture over, my mom's handwriting reads "Lindsey had a very high blood sugar this day and did not feel well."

 

That same year, my mom took pictures of me on the first day of school. I still don't look happy. In the background, there is a pink kit with a blue handle. My name is written on it. The contents include a meter, low treatments, and emergency information for everyone in our family.

 

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               INT. BATHROOM - 6:45 PM

 

Carey is giving Maeve a bubble bath. He pretends to be a French hair stylist, snipping Maeve's hair with finger scissors and working her hair into a soapy lather.

 

CAREY

 

Voila! Very beautiful, I think. Do you like, mademoiselle?

 

Maeve giggles and nods

 

DOWNSTAIRS - LIVING ROOM

 

Susanne speaks on phone. Her tone is serious and with concern.

 

SUSANNE

 

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If you have only one day to see the Tour of Somerville, Monday's the one to aim for. The Borough of Somerville puts on a day-long festival that starts with a Memorial Day parade before proceeding to a family fun-ride and the day's races. Vendors of cycling gear, healthy-lifestyles, and other stuff are set up on the lawn in front of City Hall; club team tents are lined up on the lawn along the side street; and the whole area is punctuated with local fraternal organizations selling burgers, hot dogs, and other "hand" foods while spectators line the barriers along the route. It's also the day Team Type 1 - sanofi-aventis plays "meet the public" in a big way, signing posters and team cards under the Sanofi tent as well as racing in three or more of the day's criteriums.

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This weekend ended way too quickly and I'm very ready for the coming one. Marvin was out of town last week so I decided to make the drive to my mom's and visit with her over the weekend. I miss her beyond all belief and wish that both our schedules made it easier to make the 4 hour drive.

 

We chatted for awhile on Friday night since I arrived pretty late. Saturday, I battled all those low blood sugars but ended the day with dinner and a movie with my mom and a blood sugar of 157. I cut the Lantus down that night and woke up at 176 (I did eat a snack without bolusing the night before).

 

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I always feel like I don't have a lot of early memories. When I think back to my childhood, the clear pictures start about 10 years old and move up. My mom assures me that I had an awesome childhood and didn't spend it locked in a dark closet, but sometimes I wonder...how do I get back to those moments of innocence?

 

There are some major events before I hit 10 that I clearly remember. I see the day my brother ran over me with a golf cart clearly and have the scars to prove it. (He's not homicidal, he was just a dumb boy.) I remember the day and days following when my dad was in a terrible horseriding accident and nearly died. I remember moments from Texas Lion's Camp where I went to D camp one summer and nearly died of homesickness (and food poisoning/high blood sugar).

 

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