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We found 9 result(s) that match your search "scars":

 

This morning, getting ready for work. I looked at the scattering of dots on my thighs from old pump sites. And then I wrote this...

 

We test, we write it down - we test, we store results - we test, we examine results - we test, we make decisions about what to do next.

 

 

We eat, we calculate - we eat, we guess - we eat, we dose - we eat, we hold our breath and hope we've done everything right.

 

We take our medication, we adjust our doses - we take our medication, we wonder if it's the very best medicine for us - we take our medication, we hope that it serves our body well - we take our medication, and wait for the next big advance.

 

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Olivia is starting to look like a pin cushion. Her stomach is a mass of red marks, scars and bumps. It's not pretty. She refuses to wear a bikini or half shirt because of how her stomach looks (not that this bothers me, mind you!).

The problem we're currently having is that she's got so much scar tissue built up that she's running out of real estate for her sites. She currently uses her arms, her stomach and her lower back.

I'm sure some of you will suggest thigh sites, but she has really bad luck with those. Thigh sites generally make her rollercoaster - she'll be in the 400s in the afternoon and by dinner, be in the 60s. It's bizarre. I've tracked it and she's not over-bolusing or over eating. I think it's an absorption thing. She's got meaty thighs (she can thank me for that one). I don't know if that makes a difference or not; regardless, thigh sites just don't do it.
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(To the tune of "Jingle Bells")

Andy Bell, Andy Bell, Andy had a great holiday. Even with all the food, sugars were good most of the waaaay. Hey! Now it's time to get back to work and focus on fitness for the day.. Here we go, do a curl and burn that fat away. Hey!

(To the tune of "Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer")

Andy had one day of high sugars, Eating his face off with a jello mold. You can say there's no such thing as hyperglucose But as for this diabetic, I am sold.

(To the tune of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer")
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From the shore, I watch a life I used to know - the seas swirling rough and rapid.

 

I sit, wrapped in the embrace of a sun I thought I'd never see.

 

I am unencumbered by worry.  I reach my fingers to the sky, letting the light kiss their smooth tips.  

 

I think about the storm and how it came, sudden and swift.  

 

I think about the years of maddening calculations and missteps.  The whirlpools and the hurricanes.  The lashing wind and rain.  The dark days and endless nights.

 

I think about the fleet of ships that journeyed at my side.  

 

I think about those that were lost.

 

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Today I... am recovering from a very emotional evening in which crying ensued for no reason, but I suspect it was due to a string of terrible blood sugars, including swinging from 202 to 53 to 135 within the course of several hours.

 

Today I... would really like to go in the bathroom and cry. Or just go home and cry.

 

Today I... am trying not to angrily march over to the next cube and show the lady talking about how bad her allergy shots hurt all the infusion set scars on my belly.

 

Today I... considered talking to my coworkers about World Diabetes Day, but I don't have the mental energy.

 

Today I... am struggling with a funk I've been in for about a week that is likely due to not having even one in-range blood sugar reading unless by accident, miracle or lack of food.

 

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Last week when I suggested that the diabetes community design an awareness symbol akin to the breast cancer campaign's pink ribbon, I apparently hit a nerve with someone.

Nordtorp says he's not into the secret handshake thing and that ribbons and pins don’t make a difference. He doesn't think that wearing a trinket will cause more money to be funnelled into diabetes research.

I have to say that I whole-heartedly disagree. If someone asked you what are the major illnesses -- chronic or otherwise -- that affect the U.S. population, would the common person identify diabetes as one of them? Without a connection to diabetes, I doubt it. Does the common person even really understand what diabetes is? Not many.

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There's a Band Aid on my tummy. A small, flexible-fabric Band Aid.

 

Underneath is neosporin, which is covering up my last pump site. I've never used neosporin -- or a Band Aid -- after pulling a site.

 

That site had been itchy for about a day. I knew it was (over)due for a change, but I had so little insulin in my pump that I didn't want to do two "site changes" back to back.

 

I primed my pump this morning and was preparing to quick-sert the set when I glanced at my soon-to-be-old site. It looked like my skin had been sucked up into the set. I usually leave the old set in for several hours, but this one I quickly ripped out.

 

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I am a writer. At times, I fancy myself an artist. I create things. With pen, paper, a camera, paint.
My mother says that I ate the world up as a young girl. That I couldn't get enough. I would stay up into the wee hours, watching the shadows on the wall or examining the shapes on the wallpaper from top to bottom and then bottom to top. She also says I didn't care to sleep. She felt I was afraid I'd miss something. I think she's right.
I still spend a lot of time looking at things. Feeling light, color, and texture with my eyes. Scrutinizing the world around me. I suppose some of this is the artist in me. The need to really SEE things before I can include them in the art I'm making.
And some of it is how afraid I am of losing my eyesight. (READ MORE)

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For the past two weeks or so, my blood sugars have been running high. I had lowered my basals when I came back to school because I was having too many lows with my new schedule. I'm guessing that the basals need to be raised again since I've slowly adjusted to the schedule and I'm hitting exam times so my stress is increased.

 

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