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November 21st, 2009
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In anticipation of my end of the month endo appointment, I have to go for fasting blood work this week. I'm dreading it. To me, this one of the most inconvenient things in the world for several reasons.
First off, it has taken years for me to get into the habit of eating breakfast. Now that I'm a regular at the breakfast table, I'm completely hooked on the most important meal of the day. I can't leave home without it.
Second, I don't think its safe for me to drive on an empty stomach. It's kind of like not drinking liquor on an empty stomach. It's just a bad idea. I'm low, I'm shakey, I can't see straight. I'm liable to curse at anyone who crosses my path, even if they do have the right of way. Granted, the doctors office is down the hill and around the bend, literally 3 minutes away. But still, I'm not fond of driving before eating. (READ MORE)


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I was reading through the dLife Viewpoints section today and saw a post that really hit home.

 

It's called "Bested by a Can of Tomato Soup" by Scott Johnson and I think it should be required reading for type 3's and other people without diabetes.

 

Counting carbs can sometimes be a difficult and maddening situation.

 

And we do it for virtually every meal every day. I mean, we are supposed to.

 

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When to tell?

 

I have accepted a new job. It's in a new city (half way across the country!!). It's with new people. New people who don't know that I have diabetes.

 

It was during my four-year tenure at my current job that I was diagnosed. I had no problem telling just about everyone in my very small office about diabetes. I already knew them and their personalities.

 

It's different now. I have a problem with going in to the boss on my first day and saying, "Hey, guess what..." I also have a problem with waiting three months until my benefits kick in, or even longer when someone sees me checking my sugar (or doesn't know what to do if I pass out) to say, "Oh, yeah, maybe I should have told you sooner."

 

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Getting dressed Monday morning I thought to myself that today was the day when my office-mates would finally ask me about diabetes. Over the weekend workers moved our entire 120ish-person workforce from one not-yet-renovated building into temporary quarters in the newly renovated building.

 

As I unpacked my box, I gingerly tacked my "cure diabetes" pin from Beth onto my cube wall near my computer screen, my bag of emergency Jelly Belly's went onto the open shelf above my computer along with popcorn, granola bars, juice boxes and sugar-free cough drops. Something is bound to tip them off, I thought.

 

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Hi everyone! I just wanted to drop in quickly and let you know that we're aware of the issue with leaving comments on the Blogabetes posts. We're working on it and I'll have an update later this afternoon.
In the meantime, enjoy reading through the posts and have fun getting to know the Blogabetes bloggers. :)
-- Kerri. (READ MORE)


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Dear Friday Bagels,

 

I know you don't mean any harm. You're brought in by a fabulous office manager, all warm and tastefully arranged on a plastic platter in the kitchen. Egg bagels, pumpernickel, whole grain, poppy seed ... and the ultimate: everything bagel.

 

You are round and soft, anchored on either side by cream cheese and butter. You call to me as I sit at my desk:

 

"Kerri ... hey! Come over and maybe have a half?"

 

But Friday Bagels, you are not my friend.

 

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I had to pick Olivia up from school again today because her stomach was nauseous again. She's been on a course of Zantac for a couple of weeks now and it seemed to work for a while. This is the first time she's felt this bad. She told me last night that her stomach was a little sore, but not queasy.

So, I'm off to the store to get more Zantac (and pump batteries, which seem to have disappeared - I'm blaming my husband and all of his electronic gadgets) and I'm logging (I know!!!) all of her food. I haven't logged actual food in a while - just carbs. Thank goodness I have a good spreadsheet for all this. I'm just going to leave it open on the computer all day. Hopefully that will prompt me to get the stuff in there on a daily basis rather than slacking and then playing catch up. She's never going to remember what she ate yesterday and I certainly don't expect her to.
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I recently started working a part time job at a big box store (you know the one - red, bullseye, waaaaay nicer than Wally World).  The job is OK - not challenging at all, but it's extra money and we need it.  And until I can make the big bucks from sitting on my couch reading books, this will do.

 

C. is one of the girls I work with.  She's very nice; friendly and helpful to the newbie (that'd be me).  I noticed she had a Medic Alert bracelet on but I didn't want to ask what it was for.  I'm never sure what the proper etiquette is with that - do you ask and embarrass the other person?  Do you not ask and run the risk of missing some vital sign that the person is getting ill?  Anyone know? 

 

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The pharmacy technician said it when I bought the "real" Sudafed (not that fake PE crap you can get over the counter that they reformulated so the stupid methamphetamine manufacturers have to work harder to find their main ingredient). The nurse at the doctor's office said it when I went in for a steroid shot.
It's bad around here. Really bad. Allergies, that is.
I'd say roughly six years ago I developed seasonal allergies. I was able to handle it with over the counter antihistamines, usually. But each summer seemed to get progressively worse. And this year has been by far my worst ever. Claritin and Sudafed weren't coming close to touching my itchiness, sneezing and extremely congested head. (I was like three of the Seven Dwarfs: Itchy, Sneezy and Why Won't My Ears Pop?) (READ MORE)


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"What if Maeve watches on me and if I feel low I can tell her and she can tell an adult and they can call you?"

 

"Is that a good idea, dad?"

 

I don’t let on that I have absolutely no idea how this is going to work.

 

"Sure, Charlie. We’ll figure it out."

 

At 7 years old, Charlie is finally eligible to come to work with me to "Take Your Child to Work Day." He’s put in his time, watching with envy as his big sister was able to board a 6 am train bound for Manhattan with dad in years past. He can’t wait.

 

"Is there anything I should bring?" he asked as I tucked him into his bed.

 

"Just your suit and tie and a briefcase."

 

"Seriously dad?"

 

(READ MORE)


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Carey Potash
Carey PotashCarey is a full-time hater of diabetes. The benefits stink. His 7-year-old son, Charlie, has been giving he and his wife the finger since November of 2003. Carey's parenting humor has appeared in various websites and print magazines. He resides in the suburbs of Philadelphia with his wife and three children. (Read More)
Michelle Kowalski
Michelle KowalskiMichelle Kowalski, a writer, editor and photography hobbiest living in Phoenix, was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in February 2005. In January 2008, as part of her quest to start on an insulin pump, Michelle learned that she actually has type 1 diabetes. (Read More)
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