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

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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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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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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"This," I said to my mom while pointing to the table full of mid-afternoon party food, "is exactly the kind of situation where I would really benefit from having a pump."
We were in my brother's dining room at his daughter's first-birthday party. The spread included crackers with an amazing cream cheese and pesto dip, mini chicken salad croissant sandwiches, fresh fruit, potato chips and dip and fresh veggies. To the untrained eye, there wasn't much that I should have stayed away from, but in reality there was just about nothing that didn't require insulin.
Mom looked a little confused. "But you'd still have to count carbs," she said.
"Well, yeah, of course," I said. "But that's not really the reason the pump would be so beneficial. I could eat and not have to excuse myself to take a shot."
She nodded in understanding. (READ MORE)

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"This," I said to my mom while pointing to the table full of mid-afternoon party food, "is exactly the kind of situation where I would really benefit from having a pump."
We were in my brother's dining room at his daughter's first-birthday party. The spread included crackers with an amazing cream cheese and pesto dip, mini chicken salad croissant sandwiches, fresh fruit, potato chips and dip and fresh veggies. To the untrained eye, there wasn't much that I should have stayed away from, but in reality there was just about nothing that didn't require insulin.
Mom looked a little confused. "But you'd still have to count carbs," she said.
"Well, yeah, of course," I said. "But that's not really the reason the pump would be so beneficial. I could eat and not have to excuse myself to take a shot."
She nodded in understanding. (READ MORE)

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So, hi. I haven't been around for a bit. No excuses, really, other than life getting in the way.

Well, life and a bit of embarrassment thrown in for good measure. You see, I've fallen off the logging wagon.

I know why. We had to move and I packed up the computer that had the log sheet program on it. For a couple of weeks, while all of our stuff was in boxes, I just didn't log. And I rarely looked at Olivia's pump or meter, either. I'd ask her every day how she was doing, but other than that, nothing.

When I would go over her numbers, I could find no pattern to her highs and lows. Nothing was jumping out at me and it was frustrating and unfortunately, I stuck my head in the sand over it.
(READ MORE)

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So, hi. I haven't been around for a bit. No excuses, really, other than life getting in the way.

Well, life and a bit of embarrassment thrown in for good measure. You see, I've fallen off the logging wagon.

I know why. We had to move and I packed up the computer that had the log sheet program on it. For a couple of weeks, while all of our stuff was in boxes, I just didn't log. And I rarely looked at Olivia's pump or meter, either. I'd ask her every day how she was doing, but other than that, nothing.

When I would go over her numbers, I could find no pattern to her highs and lows. Nothing was jumping out at me and it was frustrating and unfortunately, I stuck my head in the sand over it.
(READ MORE)

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My blood sugar is currently at 384. I just stare at the number. My mind trying not to fathom what those digits represent. I checked my blood sugar because I wanted to enjoy the cookie that I saved from dinner. Now I stare at this cookie, taunting me, telling me how my life is going to be. It looks so yummy with its million chocolate chips and golden brown hue. But those numbers tell me that my cookie will have to wait. (READ MORE)

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Just the other day I was speaking with a group of co-workers about different life changing events in the life of someone with diabetes. As we sat there and talked about it I began to reflect on my own. I thought about the different times in my life such as diagnosis time, school, relationships, complications, and work. All things that every person living with diabetes can relate to, or will eventually deal with.

Where were you when you were diagnosed? What were you doing that day or at that particular time in your life? Were you at work? Were you at school? Did you go into a coma or diabetic ketoacidosis? Was your vision so blurry, that like me, you realized you couldn't see the picture on the t.v.?
(READ MORE)

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The day that I moved out of my mom's house, my mom cried the entire way home from my new apartment. Not only was she losing her daily companion, but she was scared. All moms get scared when their kids move out, of course. But moms of diabetics have a completely different perspective.

 

She had seen me have two seizures before. She'd been there when I blacked out in the grocery store when moments earlier I was feeling fine. She'd driven me to the emergency room when I was sick, in fear of DKA. She'd watched me grow up with this disease, in the highs and lows, quite literally.

 

(READ MORE)

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