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

Today, October 10th, is the Great Virtual Breast Fest. What on earth is that, you may ask?

Well, recently, Bill Maher equated breastfeeding in public to masturbating in public. Um, what?! Facebook has removed pictures that women have posted of themselves, nursing their babies. They will, however, allow pro-anorexia groups and even pedophiles. Breastfeeding, however, is verboten. Lovely.

I don't understand this obsession with breasts and with making breastfeeding out to be something obscene, something that should be done in a toilet or under a blanket or hey, how about you just don't leave the house while you're breastfeeding that kid because I might see a bit of skin while I'm scarfing down my wings at Hooters. People are totally ridiculous on the subject.
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Why is it so hard to get back on track after you fall off the diet wagon? Each day, I start out with good intentions, but somewhere along the line, my eating has gone straight to pot.
I think it started almost a month ago now, right after getting fasting bloodwork done at my endo's office. I "celebrated" with a breakfast at McDonald's, something I'd been craving for a while. Then I had a few run-ins with a Chick-Fil-A sandwich, waffle fries (dipped in mayo) and cole slaw.
After that was the Snickerdoodle incident (which I blamed on my friend Lizzy for introducing me to the sweet, slightly cinnamon flavored, sugar cookies at Whole Foods). Following closely on its heels was the chocolate chip cookie catastrophe. Now I'm in the midst of a full-blown cupcake bender.
Who do I think I am? What in the world makes me think I can eat these foods without consequences? (READ MORE)

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Is there specific etiquette for thanking someone whose quick thinking and kindness kept you from falling flat on your face during a low? Are there any written, or unwritten, rules for this? Should I send flowers or a note? Maybe baked goods are appropriate, since that's what really saved me. I guess I should ask my ever proper Great Aunt Lyn for suggestions. She's better with social graces than Peggy Post and Miss Manners combined.
As a type 2 diabetic, I never had to worry about lows until I started insulin last year. Then, when they hit, it wasn't anything too bad or too low, and I always enjoyed the excuse for eating candy. Besides, they always seemed to strike in a controlled setting, like my office or living room, just steps away from a handy juice box. (READ MORE)

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I have been exceptionally busy the past 2 weeks. Company from out of town, big project at work and the common cold making it's rounds in our family. Life with an infant, preschooler, full-time job and 1 hour commute is already pretty busy, so these additions ratchet me up to an unacceptable stress level.
What suffers? My bg (blood glucose) levels, meal planning and my milk supply.
I'm trying to restart the weight loss I enjoyed the first 3 months after the baby was born. I feel like I'm on a tightrope - if I eat enough to keep my milk supply up, I gain weight. If I eat low enough calorie to lose weight, my milk supply plummets. Especially when I'm not getting enough sleep. (READ MORE)

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I got an email today about a new program that Columbia University (in New York City) is offering. A completely online master's degree in Diabetes Education and Management. This type of degree can aide current CDE's, prospective CDE's who are looking for certification, or anyone in the diabetes arena that wants a better understanding of how to educate diabetics and further proper management.

 

At first, my interest was piqued. Would I want to do that? I once looked into nursing programs in order to pursue certification as a Certified Diabetes Educator, but decided that nursing school wasn't for me. An online Master of Science though? Maybe.

 

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"I noticed that you're diabetic," D. said looking over the patient information form as I was nursing the flu-shot-injection-site on my right arm.

 

"Yes," I said. Geez, I thought to myself, that's usually one of the first things I mention in a situation like this. I can't believe I didn't say anything up front. Could have been because I was the last in my family of five to go and I was busy comforting my children. (No. 2 volunteered to go first!) Interestingly, I wasn't looking forward to the shot. Actually kind of dreading it. I knew it was going to hurt. I've almost passed out in years past from shots in my arm. It's not the injection, it's the medicine -- it stings.

 

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I have been conspicuously absent from these pages for a month now. My in-laws were staying with us for 2 weeks, but my writer's block started before their visit.
I just haven't had much to say. I have not followed through on my possible New Year's resolutions very well. I'm tired of posting my failures here. I will say that my exercise has picked up a bit from the past few months, but it's barely discernable.
My mother-in-law also has type 2 diabetes controlled by metformin. We were both "good" during her visit - which means no fancy desserts and minimal refined carbs. So no excitement there to report.
I haven't been testing my blood regularly. I know that's a diabetic sin, but thanks to last year's weight loss, my numbers have really come down which is a good thing, but makes testing 2x a day rather boring. (READ MORE)

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My father’s sister Margaret died of complications from diabetes at the age of 51.  It was an awful thing to watch.  The years between her fortieth birthday and her dying day were overfilled with pain.  She had issues with her toes, issues with her eyes, she had multiple strokes.  My father, a decorated Marine and police officer, held his little sister’s hand through too much heartache.  When she died, in a nursing home, too young and too sick for words, he cried.  

 

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I've been nursing a lot of highs lately. I'm not talking about the mediocre 200s, but full blown 400s and 300s. Both Saturday and today, I've been stuck well above a comfortable range.

 

Saturday was quite terrible with nausea, headaches, and unquenchable thirst. Even with incredible doses of insulin, I just seemed stuck above 300. I'd eaten a high carb breakfast, but I'd done adequate insulin. And then followed it with even more adequate insulin and then some.

 

Last night's Mexican dinner seems to have pushed me into the 290 to 350 range. It's a dinner that I've had plenty of times, done the right insulin, and not seen these torrential highs. It just doesn't add up.

 

Every now and then, I seem to struggle like this. I have days where all I feel comfortable eating is jell-o and popsicles. It's a constant routine of check, inject, drink water. It's getting really old.

 

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She was Nana to my wife. She was GG to my kids. She was 99 when she passed away on Friday morning.
She woke up, had breakfast, buzzed the nurse and told her that she was going to die now.
Nana let go once she learned that her 96-year-old baby sister was going to be looked after in a nursing home. At 99 and 96, the two sisters amazingly lived on their own. Nana took care of her sister.
She had a great sense of humor. After a recent heart attack, she joked to my wife that maybe she'll hold off on buying that blouse she had her eye on; the one she would wear for her 100th birthday party in December.
She squeaked when she laughed and she called everyone dearheart. She had so much love inside of her for her family that she would glow when she saw us. She would whimper and quiver with joy, tears flowing.
"Come," she'd squeak with a big smile. "Come inside dearhearts."
She was a sweet and lovely person who will be deeply missed. (READ MORE)

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