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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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Tonight I took all three girls to my father's house because my step-brother and his wife were up for a visit. It was a nice night, low-key and relaxed. Until I realized that The Bug, who is almost 18 months old, was sucking back water like it was going out of style. She also peed thru two diapers in the course of two and a half hours.
Of course my brain immediately went to diabetes. I'll be checking her first thing in the morning, since she'd been snacking pretty much since we walked in the door.
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Well, it is official. The inhaled insulin
Exubera is being pulled from the market by Pfizer. An ADA
article reports that Pfizer took a $2.8 Billion hit to end its involvement with the sale of the drug. Doctoral and patient support, as well as profits, has been too dismal to warrant any kind of extended sale of what was seen as a breakthrough in diabetes management by many.
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For me, the desire to live to 100 is all about quality of life. Frankly, living to any age is about quality of life.
I don't know that I considered my mortality much until I was diagnosed with diabetes. I was 30 when I was diagnosed. Which means that at the traditional retirement age, I will have lived with diabetes for 35 years. That's a pretty long time. Live 20 years past retirement, and diabetes will have been part of my life for more than half a century.
One of the toughest parts of living with diabetes for me are the intangibles--I
feel fine now, but that doesn't mean that my internal organs or my eyes aren't feeling the strain of high blood sugars and extended periods of time living with a chronic disease.
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I know I said never again, but lately I'm finding myself thinking, "Next time, I'll do this, that and the other thing differently."
Yes, I'll admit it. My little boy is so ridiculously cute these days that I'm actually thinking about doing it again. I know, crazy. But for the next few paragraphs, I'll at least entertain the idea.
Next time, I will see fewer doctors. I was in a group OB practice, a group Maternal Fetal Medicine practice and a group PCP. Not counting a dermatologist and chiropractor, I saw no less than 13 different doctors during my pregnancy. Seven different OBs, three maternal-fetal medicine specialists, two PCPs and one endocrinologist. If I were to do it over again, I would find an obstetrician or perinatologist who specializes in diabetic pregnancies and was not a member of a group practice. Maybe a team of two, but not a group.
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