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

Singers are very passionate people and a lot of times the power behind their voices comes from the struggles that they have encountered in life. This was definitely the way I felt as I watched Elliott Yamin put on a passionate and heart-felt show here in Columbia Tuesday night. (READ MORE)

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To sum up Charlie's recent doctor's visit in which we greatly anticipated an improved A1c result, the words of two great American female poets come to mind.
"First, when there's nothing but a slow glowing dream That your fear seems to hide deep inside your mind All alone I have cried silent tears full of pride In a world made of steel, made of stone
What a feeling, bein's believin' I can't have it all, now I'm dancin' for my life Take your passion, and make it happen Pictures come alive, you can dance right through your life" - Irene Cara
And of course ,.
"Whoa, maybe he's no romeo But he's my lovin one-man show Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa Let's hear it for the boy" - Deniece Williams
Incidentally, I honestly always thought the Irene Cara lyric was "take your pants off and make it happen" rather than "take your passion and make it happen." Very risqué and quite unlikely even for the mid-80s, but that's just how I heard it. (READ MORE)

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I'm sure I would have had a huge goofy smile on my face watching Charlie play baseball even if he was free of disease. But something about watching the kid with diabetes out-hustle every other kid on the field, just made my heart burst wide open with pride.
He wasn't the fastest. He didn't hit the ball the furthest. He didn't throw the hardest. But sweet lord, that little firecracker played with passion.
Planted on the pitcher's mound, he became an instant fan favorite by throwing his body in front of sharply hit line drives destined for the deep edges of the outfield. The parents and coaches laughed as he looked like a hockey goalie under assault, flopping around on the ground, making save after save.
Before practice, I wondered what to do with the pump. (READ MORE)

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This year’s JDRF annual conference has asked those involved with JDRF to compose a “Commitment to a Cure” piece. They will be using these commitment items to display on the Commitment Wall in hopes of increasing interest, passion and the volume of responses at the conference. 

 

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The street we normally trick-or-treat on was consumed with kids and families last night. It was really fun because I can't ever remember seeing so many people out at once. However, with that many people parading up the street, some of us got caught in clumps. And one of my pet peeves is people I don't know walking too closely to me. I can't stand feeling like someone is literally breathing down my neck.
With The Mr. and the kids walking several paces in front of me while I dealt with some horrendous foot cramps (man am I pushing the water today!), I took the opportunity to stop and let someone pass me by.
"Hey, are you Michelle?" the woman asked as I stepped aside.
I was shocked that, first of all, someone recognized me, and that she could see me in the dark.
"Yes," I said.
"I'm Cheryl L."
"Oh my gosh!" I literally screamed. "Hi! How are you?"
"I'm great!" I think she was laughing at me, at my enthusiasm for seeing her. (READ MORE)

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I think Mousie nailed it in her comment from my last post. The age of 6 really is shaping up to be a time of new understanding. And yes, Charlie is clearly dealing with diabetes on a new level.

 

These days he's showing signs of wanting more control. He now loads the test strip into the meter, though he's not ready to test himself yet. He's also started reading labels for total carbs. A tug of war over a bag of crackers usually ensues when I try to make sure he's right about the carbs before I enter it into the pump. He's getting frustrated.

 

Charlie: Can I eat now?

 

Me: (pulling) I just want to check the carbs!

 

Charlie: (pulling) I told you! 16 carbs!

 

Me: (pulling) I. Just. Want. To. See. The.

 

Me: Shit!

 

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I've joked about adjusting Charlie's happiness levels due to the effect it has on his blood sugar. I'm finding now it's not so funny. The adrenalin that comes from excitement shoots Charlie's blood sugar up like a bottle rocket.

The latest culprit: summer street hockey.

Everything was fine on game day. We were at the pool having fun. Charlie clocked in at a lovely 132 just before I made the mistake of saying, "OK, let's go Charlie. We have to go home and get ready for hockey."

What a horrible dad I am to say such harmful words. In retrospect maybe I should have spoken with the enthusiasm of a corpse …

"You have that thing, Charlie. It's really nothing though."

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We finally got some snow in our neck of the woods. It wasn't much, but just enough to sled in, play in and of course get hypoglycemic in. We've been so desperate for snow; we would have taken sledding down a mountain of mud after a heavy rain at this point.
What we find unfortunately is that trudging through the snow is so strenuous that it sinks Charlie like a stone. He was low all weekend. Even while being detached from his pump for much of it.
And now for the "damn you, diabetes" segment of this post:
I remember how exciting it was when school was cancelled due to snow. I loved snow days. Can't Charlie just enjoy a snow day without diabetes spoiling it? After a morning low on Friday, the kids played in the snow for a while. When Susanne called out to Charlie to ask how he was feeling, he stopped flapping for a moment and lifted two thumbs up skyward while lying on his back in mid snow angel form; huge smile upon his face. (READ MORE)

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Yesterday I revealed to the world that Symlin is giving me tummy trouble, to put it mildly. Just for grins, I got on the scale this morning and I'm down 4 lb. since the weekend. Most of this, we can assume, is, ahem, water weight (bwahahahaha!).
Yesterday was better than the day before, but today has been worse. I'm not nauseated and my appetite continues to diminish, but my tummy is making terrible gurggly noises and sending me to the potty more than I'd like. At least once today I thought about emailing Dr. C to tell him I can't handle it anymore and that this is no way to live or lose weight. (READ MORE)

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So last night, I did the Dumbest Thing Ever. I had a couple of glasses of wine while we had family over, celebrating a birthday, and after they left, I went to bed and turned on the television. And what was on?

 

Steel freakin' Magnolias.

 

I haven't watched that movie since about a year after Olivia was diagnosed. I tried watching it then and bawled my eyes out. Well, guess what? I did it again last night. Mark was asleep beside me and I had to hold my hands over my mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. It was awful. I couldn't finish watching it.

 

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