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We found 4 result(s) that match your search "Banging":

This is all over the diabetes online community and may have already been posted about on here, but I'm going to chime in with my 2 cents.

Have you heard? Halle Berry has managed to cure herself of type 1 diabetes and has beaten it down to type 2 and doesn't need insulin any more.

Isn't that a neat trick?

Perez Hilton even has something on it. You know the diabetes online community is really up in arms if it's being reported on Perez Hilton!

It's been talked almost to death, but I don't understand what Halle Berry's problem is with having diabetes. If she has type 1, is she ashamed of that? If it's type 2, shouldn't she be out there saying "Look! It's not a fat disease! Thin people who eat well and exercise a lot can also get type 2!
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Hate: That I can't eat cereal (even so-called healthy cereal) for breakfast without taking an excess of 10 units of Novolog. Love: That I have rediscovered that I love having oatmeal for breakfast--and it requires only three to four units of Novolog.
Hate: That "healthier" fare is more expensive. I love cereal for breakfast, but some of my favorite, non-sugared cereals cost twice as much as the sugary stuff and you get half as much in a box. Love: I'm choosier about my meal choices based on carbs and cost.
Hate: That finding a variety of food I like and how to bolus appropriately often involves some seriously high numbers. Love: That I have found some tasty staples I can count on and not have to count carbs or think about how much insulin to take; I just do the same thing I always do and know that it's going to work. (READ MORE)

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Last Saturday, I had the pleasure of hanging out with three of the lovely ladies of the OC (the diabetes Online Community) - Kerri, Shannon and Nicole. We went to a great play at the Trinity Repertory Theatre, in Providence, RI, called Some Things Are Private. It discussed Sally Mann and the photographs she had taken of her children over the years. (READ MORE)

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It is dark. Black, really. There is no light anywhere. And there is no sound. There is nothing. Nothing but nothing.
This stunning blackness, this lack of light and sound, scares me concious. And I am in my bed. With an empty glass of juice in my hand. My right index finger slides, slimey, against the plastic cup, wet with blood.
Nothing makes sense. Bob's voice is the first thing I'm able to hear. "You need to test."
"I already tested," I answer, "Can't you see the blood?"
"You poked yourself, but you didn't test," He replies, "Come on, it's been about twenty minutes since you finished that juice."
"Was it bad?" I ask.
"Not as bad as it's been. You took the juice fine, no spitting, no screaming, no fighting. It was scary though, because you didn't say a word. It was like you were asleep with your eyes wide open." (READ MORE)

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