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

I think God has a sick sense of humor. You see, I have this terrible love of sweets. My favorite things are cheesecake, biscuits, cookies, cakes, muffins, and all things carb-filled.

 

When I was diagnosed with diabetes at age 4, they told me and my family that I couldn't eat any sugar. So my life turned into a sugar-free terror. The cookies and candies were always different than what my brothers ate. I was told when and what to eat in every excruciating detail.

 

Then we started counting carbs when I was about 11. No more nasty sugar-free foods. I could drink real soda for once. I could eat my own birthday cake. I could eat anything!

 

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"Are you going to eat what your wife made?"

 

It was loud. It was purposely loud to get everybody's attention. It was coming from an unexpected source. I was ready.

 

"If you mean the cake then, heck yes I am having some. Why?"

 

"Hello, you are diabetic!"

 

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For years I was a smoker. I smoked a pack a day at the very least for 15 years. Addiction is powerful.

 

I finally kicked that habit but realized that nicotine is not the only drug I am addicted to. The other is much easier to get and I am not sure I want to quit it yet.

 

Caffeine.

 

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Someone asked me a few weeks ago how my type 2 diagnosis affected my family. Honestly, I said, not very much. And I'm not sure if that's good or bad or a mix of both.
For one thing, I've always been the meal planner, grocery shopper, chef and chief bottle washer in our family. Furthermore, I always cooked fairly healthy for my family, tried to get a good mix of meats, veggies, starches and fruits. So adjusting our meal plan really didn't take much effort. (I know, you're wondering how I got to be so overweight if I cooked so healthy. Sweets have always been a big part of my life. The weight comes from not sharing, essentially. And I like to eat. A lot. And all the time.) (READ MORE)

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This morning I made the decision to stay positive. So often I get caught up in the office drama and find myself jumping on the "bad attitude" band wagon. Not cool at all.

 

So far the day has been good. Each time I hear a complaint or a bad attitude I try to find something to say to brighten things up. It's funny how in almost every situation, you can find some good in it. That silver lining.

 

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I know he meant well.
I know he was just curious.
I know he is simply concerned about my health.
But seriously, since when is "So how's your diabetus?" an acceptable question?
It's not like saying "How's your broken leg?" or "Is your cold getting any better?" The status of diabetes doesn't get any better.
I should say, though, that I suspect my friend--whom I had reminded that I have diabetes when he spotted my pump the day before I got hooked up--was really just wondering if the pump was making things easier for me. In fact, he asked as much several minutes later. (READ MORE)

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It happened when I was giving the baby a bath on Sunday evening. It was the first time in a week. It wasn't really a light bulb moment, just something that felt familiar. That oh yeah, I remember.
My four year old wanted to watch me, to "help" with the baby's bath. Everything she did made me want to scream-moving the step stool closer to the sink, talking jibber jabber to the baby, touching the water to make sure it wasn't too hot or cold. She wasn't being annoying, she wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, she just wanted to be involved. And all I could do was tell her to Stop! Stop! Just Stop It! I was thinking Just Leave Me Alone,I Want To Do This Myself,Alone,Get Away From Me! (READ MORE)

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Recently, a woman at work discovered I have diabetes. I don't hide the fact that I have it at work, but it's not readily apparent. In the interest of safety, I've told several key people outright - and the folks in the near vicinity of my work space know because I don't hide my testing, pumping, or other efforts toward good control. If someone asks, I am usually happy to answer questions, clear up misconceptions, or alleviate concerns.
L, who works on the other side of our fairly large office, and who I don't see that often, came to my desk the other day and rather unceremoniously started into a monologue about my diabetes, It went something like, "Oh, Nicole" Look of concern, "A just told me about your diabetes. You have the bad kind, don't you? You have to take shots and things. Oh it must be so hard with having it the way you do. You have to stay away from sweets and I bet the shots hurt a lot."
Oh Dear. What to do? (READ MORE)

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I sat at the stop sign at Love Street and Coal. Just a block away I got into my car after eating lunch. I had been good having just a sandwich, a glass of water and a handful of wheat thins crackers. I felt satisfied, not hungry and ready to go back to work. I was thanking Byetta for my lack of appetite. In fact, I remember thinking that I could have easily skipped lunch.
But between my house and Love Street the two sides of my brain prepared for battle. Going straight on Coal meant going back to work. It meant skipping the gas station or the drug store where I would break the $20 bill in my wallet for a cheap thrill. Going straight meant I had will power, that I didn't need chocolate, that I could make it through the afternoon at my desk without that rush. (READ MORE)

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"I don't care."
That has been a familiar phrase from my lips lately. My wife asks me how many Weight Watchers points a particular meal is when we go out to dinner and I will respond with "I don't care." That probably explains why I have gained two pounds over the past two weeks. I just do not care.
And with that I have not really calculated my carbs. I have been loosely guessing and then making major corrections 2 hours later. I am still checking my BG. I am not guessing on that. But I just feel so uninterested in my life right now. I know that makes no sense especially since I am writing about it now.
I guess I am looking for advice although I do not feel I am in a place to accept or follow any of it. Maybe I want to hear, "I've been there and its okay." Maybe that will make me feel better. I don't know. (READ MORE)

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