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Olivia was supposed to babysit yesterday afternoon, but because we got 87 inches of snow, it was canceled. She was disappointed about not getting paid but I think a little relieved about it, too.

She was going to be babysitting another kid with diabetes (and his little sister). I'm friends with this woman, Deb, who lives in the next town - we met thru the Children With Diabetes email list. Deb thought that Olivia would make a great babysitter, since she knows all about diabetes. I think Olivia was having qualms.
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Olivia was supposed to babysit yesterday afternoon, but because we got 87 inches of snow, it was canceled. She was disappointed about not getting paid but I think a little relieved about it, too.

She was going to be babysitting another kid with diabetes (and his little sister). I'm friends with this woman, Deb, who lives in the next town - we met thru the Children With Diabetes email list. Deb thought that Olivia would make a great babysitter, since she knows all about diabetes. I think Olivia was having qualms.
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Olivia was supposed to babysit yesterday afternoon, but because we got 87 inches of snow, it was canceled. She was disappointed about not getting paid but I think a little relieved about it, too.

She was going to be babysitting another kid with diabetes (and his little sister). I'm friends with this woman, Deb, who lives in the next town - we met thru the Children With Diabetes email list. Deb thought that Olivia would make a great babysitter, since she knows all about diabetes. I think Olivia was having qualms.
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Brynn and I had a great laugh, or at least she did, this afternoon. Maybe you or your significant other can relate to this, but sometimes, when the blood sugar is low, MANNERS GO OUT THE WINDOW!
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My fellow blogger Nicole Purcell, wrote an amazing entry the other day called, How Do Our Bodies Do It? She captivates very brilliantly what it is like to experience a severe late night episode of hypoglycemia. Some of us, fortunately, have never had an experience quite like the one she describes. Others are all too familiar with them. Speaking for myself, I am one of the fortunate ones, who has only been dangerously low a handful of times. I have never been injected with a glucagon shot and I've never really lost consciousness due to a low. But still, I could definitely relate to her experience because I can recall the episodes where I was just so unbelievably out of it. But her post got me thinking of the time when I was a camp counselor at a children's diabetic camp.
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My fellow blogger Nicole Purcell, wrote an amazing entry the other day called, How Do Our Bodies Do It? She captivates very brilliantly what it is like to experience a severe late night episode of hypoglycemia. Some of us, fortunately, have never had an experience quite like the one she describes. Others are all too familiar with them. Speaking for myself, I am one of the fortunate ones, who has only been dangerously low a handful of times. I have never been injected with a glucagon shot and I've never really lost consciousness due to a low. But still, I could definitely relate to her experience because I can recall the episodes where I was just so unbelievably out of it. But her post got me thinking of the time when I was a camp counselor at a children's diabetic camp.
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My fellow blogger Nicole Purcell, wrote an amazing entry the other day called, How Do Our Bodies Do It? She captivates very brilliantly what it is like to experience a severe late night episode of hypoglycemia. Some of us, fortunately, have never had an experience quite like the one she describes. Others are all too familiar with them. Speaking for myself, I am one of the fortunate ones, who has only been dangerously low a handful of times. I have never been injected with a glucagon shot and I've never really lost consciousness due to a low. But still, I could definitely relate to her experience because I can recall the episodes where I was just so unbelievably out of it. But her post got me thinking of the time when I was a camp counselor at a children's diabetic camp.
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"What's the matter?" The Mr. wanted to know when I called him at work today just before lunch. "You sound like someone just kicked your puppy."
I chuckled. I was trying to hide it, but I guess not successfully.
"Nothing," I lied.
Truth is, I'm not really sure what's wrong with me. I've been so psyched about going on the pump since the process really got under way last week. But I've been sort of in a funk since yesterday when I got bloodwork results from my endo that indicate I am not type 2, but most likely type 1.5 (also known as latent autoimmune diabetes in adults). (READ MORE)

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My pump sites have just not been cooperating lately.  No matter where I put the canula - it ends up hurting.  A lot.  Enough so that I complain about it. 

 

To give you an idea of what it takes for me to complain - I am a girl who has had external fixators drilled into a bone in my arm for eight weeks and who refused pain killers (other than Tylenol) after two days.  I'm not a sissy.  Not at all.  So these sites are causing me more than a little bit of turmoil.

 

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CP: I'm here with lumberjack, one-time monopoly champion, brother-in-law extraordinaire and a downright handsome speciman of a man, Patrick Mauceri. Thanks for joining us today.
 

PM: Hey C-dog.  No problem. Thanks for having me.  Monopoly champ?

CP: Ignore me.
 

CP: Interesting place you chose to meet me at today. So I just put my coins in here and the little peephole opens up? Do people with diabetes frequent this sort of place often?

PM: Well it's our little speakeasy. Only instead of bootlegged whiskey, they serve expensive juice boxes and orange slices. Can I buy you a drink?

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