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

I stare at the rack of magazines. The latest stars, the latest trends, the latest everything all stare back at me from glossy pages.
As a college student, I want to be in style. I want to have the latest fads and know the latest "body secrets." As a self proclaimed "fashionista", I want these magazines to tell me all that I need to dress with the world. As a diabetic, I just want a glossy paged magazine for diabetics!
A magazine that shows the latest gadgets, the latest research, the latest success stories. But I want all that to be catered towards me: the college student, the fashionista. I want hot trends in meters, new diet tips and expert advice on all my questions. (READ MORE)

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Over the weekend, I had a low blood sugar in the middle of the night that left me feeling like I had been beaten soundly and left in a ditch. (Covered in petrol, a la Eddie Izzard.)
It was a strange experience, though, because the "low hangover" feeling was neatly accompanied by a feeling of guilt. This low wasn't one that came out of no where and smacked up upside the head. This low was the result of a miscalculation while I was at dinner. (READ MORE)

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With all the blood that diabetes care involves, it's no wonder the "vampire" image keeps coming into play. A former T2 co-worker referred to going for blood work as "seeing the Vampire". Kerri's Diabetes Terms of Endearment list includes the entry, "Vampire cannula". For those who live in fear of (fictional) vampires, every time we prick our fingers to test... has to include the scary thought, "Am I inviting a vampire to bite me?"

 

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A man is not dead until he is forgotten. -- African proverb

 

Saturday night, the vice-president of our Friends of Faire group delivered a well-worded "toast to the immortal memory", in which he named Robert Burns "the Bard of Scotland"  in the way that Shakespeare is "the Bard of England" (not to mention most of the rest of the English-speaking world!). As our festivities were dedicated to a member who had recently and unexpectedly died, her life was also celebrated in this toast, and her passing, mourned.

 

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This article came to my attention a few weeks ago via Penny at My Son Has Diabetes . I thought it was melodramatic in the extreme and felt it needed a response. Here's what I said:

Everything in moderation - Aristotle. I find that's a good philosophy when it comes to Halloween candy.

Your melodramatic column screams about the massive rate of diabetes among adults and children. Yet what you fail to note is that the majority of children with diabetes have TYPE 1 diabetes, a vastly different disease than Type 2.
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I completed my first JDRF Walk this morning! It was very exciting. Despite having no idea what to expect, it was fun and went off without much of a glitch.

 

My final Team Lindsey consisted of three other people and myself. Two girls, two guys. Two diabetics, two non-D's. It was a fun group.

 

We made it the whole 5k walking at a fairly brisk pace. The two diabetics held steady with our blood sugars. I ended the walk at a lovely 136 after eating a small (38 carb) breakfast with no bolus and dialing down the basal by 0.25.

 

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"I have that," the birthday girl's grandmother said to me, pointing at the contents of Charlie's diabetes bag as the cake entered the room.

She wore earrings the size of donuts and called me "sweetie."

"Mmm hmmm! Keep it right on my desk all the time."

"Oh," I said, popping a test strip into the meter and ripping open an alcohol wipe. "You have …"

"Mmm hmmm. I can't afford to get another cold this year," she continued. "Oh, no!"

It was then that I realized she was talking about the massive jug of hand sanitizer that spilled out of Charlie's bag and onto the table and not his diabetes supplies.

Meanwhile I was on the phone with Susanne discussing the dimensions of the cake and signaling the young kids distributing the cake to hold off on the piece for Charlie.

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Dec. 5, 2005, was a frigid day in Missouri. I wrote in my journal that day that it did not get out of the teens all day. It was one of those days where the snot inside your nose freezes the second you walk outside.

 

The Mr. and I were driving to the hospital at 5 a.m. that day. A 45-minute drive to the closest bigger city where my OB, perinatologist and certified diabetes educator were located. Three years ago today I was being induced with No. 3 at 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant.
 

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I think I am losing my mind.

 

Back when I was in High School I never thought about diabetes or the fact that I could get it. I never thought that a disease would sneak into my life and change it forever. It was just not on my radar and not on my parents radar either. They were just as shocked as I was when I was diagnosed.

 

So now I am the parent and since I have diabetes, it I think about all the time. I hope some parents with diabetes can tell me how you deal with this but I think I am a little paranoid about my children getting diabetes.

 

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Had he been awake, he probably wouldn’t have appreciated the pink straw in his mouth. But we were out of juice boxes and the box of straws had been picked clean of all its blues and greens.

 

Sounds are louder at 2 am. The trigger snap and pop of the pricker. My bare feet smacking the wood floor. My sloth-like descent down the stairs and the familiar creaks in the wood that groan under my weight.

 

I don’t need to tell you. You know.

 

His eyelids bend open just slightly and quiver like closed moth wings. His mouth opens on cue.

 

"Good, Charlie. Just a little more."

 

One eye opens and then closes.

 

While he drinks, I think about the news of the artificial pancreas. Everything is always four to five years away it seems. It’s not a cure, but it’s something.

 

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