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It's back. And this time I'm definitely blaming the blood/bacteria in my urine on my refillable water bottle. Remember several months ago when I had two horrible infections in the course of two months? Remember that I searched online in vain to blame the problem on my Nalgene bottle, but to no avail? Well, I ditched the Nalgene bottle and the problem went away. Except that when you live in the desert you have to drink water. Lots of water. So I bought another refillable water bottle and drank gallons of water a day. Well, not really, but you get the picture. And what happens? Three months later I'm in agony again.
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I'm always on the lookout for media representation of diabetes. I appreciate the media feedback that we get, although sometimes it infuriates me at how things are portrayed. Generally, I really don't see many movie or TV shows that feature diabetics in any great length.
However, as I was flipping through the channels last night, ABC's Private Practice caught my eye. One of the medical stories of the episode featured a diabetic little boy on an insulin pump. His infusion site had become infected and his blood sugars were elevated.
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My family sat down for dinner last night and I was feeling frantic and stressed and generally not in a good place. My fasting sugars have been a little high and I'm sure my post-lunch have been too, with all the goodies available at work.
The tragic Colorado church shootings took place Sunday just a few miles from my home. My 4 year old has questions I don't know how to answer.
This is crush week for us for the holidays. If it's not shipped or mailed by Friday, it very likely won't make it in time. 95% of our friends and family don't live in this state so I have to be done this week.
Halfway through dinner, the 5 month old started crying. Not a light fussing, but an full-on screaming crying -- something was
DEFINITELY wrong with her. Kate does not do this very often. It ratchets up my stress level immediately. I feel SO bad for her and guilty (of course) that I may have done something to cause it. And there's the worry that something is seriously wrong.
(READ MORE)
My family sat down for dinner last night and I was feeling frantic and stressed and generally not in a good place. My fasting sugars have been a little high and I'm sure my post-lunch have been too, with all the goodies available at work.
The tragic Colorado church shootings took place Sunday just a few miles from my home. My 4 year old has questions I don't know how to answer.
This is crush week for us for the holidays. If it's not shipped or mailed by Friday, it very likely won't make it in time. 95% of our friends and family don't live in this state so I have to be done this week.
Halfway through dinner, the 5 month old started crying. Not a light fussing, but an full-on screaming crying -- something was
DEFINITELY wrong with her. Kate does not do this very often. It ratchets up my stress level immediately. I feel SO bad for her and guilty (of course) that I may have done something to cause it. And there's the worry that something is seriously wrong.
(READ MORE)
My family sat down for dinner last night and I was feeling frantic and stressed and generally not in a good place. My fasting sugars have been a little high and I'm sure my post-lunch have been too, with all the goodies available at work.
The tragic Colorado church shootings took place Sunday just a few miles from my home. My 4 year old has questions I don't know how to answer.
This is crush week for us for the holidays. If it's not shipped or mailed by Friday, it very likely won't make it in time. 95% of our friends and family don't live in this state so I have to be done this week.
Halfway through dinner, the 5 month old started crying. Not a light fussing, but an full-on screaming crying -- something was
DEFINITELY wrong with her. Kate does not do this very often. It ratchets up my stress level immediately. I feel SO bad for her and guilty (of course) that I may have done something to cause it. And there's the worry that something is seriously wrong.
(READ MORE)
My family sat down for dinner last night and I was feeling frantic and stressed and generally not in a good place. My fasting sugars have been a little high and I'm sure my post-lunch have been too, with all the goodies available at work.
The tragic Colorado church shootings took place Sunday just a few miles from my home. My 4 year old has questions I don't know how to answer.
This is crush week for us for the holidays. If it's not shipped or mailed by Friday, it very likely won't make it in time. 95% of our friends and family don't live in this state so I have to be done this week.
Halfway through dinner, the 5 month old started crying. Not a light fussing, but an full-on screaming crying -- something was
DEFINITELY wrong with her. Kate does not do this very often. It ratchets up my stress level immediately. I feel SO bad for her and guilty (of course) that I may have done something to cause it. And there's the worry that something is seriously wrong.
(READ MORE)
I have vivid dreams. When I close my eyes at night, a whole new world appears, in living color. My dreams hold smells and sounds and sights that often rival the sensory reality of my waking life. There have been times when I could swear I've seen people, had conversations, and done things in real life, when these memories were simply creations of my sleeping mind. I know that I talk, run, laugh, and cry while I sleep; something that makes sharing a bed with me a real challenge. I suppose that the vividness of my dreams might be a reflection of the constant activity in my brain.
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I'm trying, trying really hard to figure out how this Glyburide stuff works. I understand that it works to stimulate my pancreatic beta cells so the lazy buggers produce insulin that binds with the glucose floating around in my blood, allowing the pair to waltz into my cells and be used for energy. I get that part.
What I don't get is how does it work. Because frankly, it's working too well.
A few weeks ago, my doctor put me on 5 mg of Glyburide twice a day. One pill later I came crashing down from somewhere around 200 to the 60s. The next day, he said wait until your blood sugar goes back up and take one-quarter of a pill twice a day. He later called in a prescription for the 1.25 mg tablets, but I'm only taking them once a day. I've since had to break the 1.25 mg in half and I'm still going low at least once a day.
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What if this was it? What if this was THE announcement? Where were you when you first heard the news?
We were in the living room. Susanne was sitting on the brown "site-change chair" with Charlie laying across her knees. She peeled the site off of Charlie's bottom while he resisted, elbowing her in the ribs and screaming, "break! break! break!"
Susanne begged him to be still.
And then suddenly everything stopped as we all became transfixed to the words coming out of Brian Williams' mouth on the television and the graphic over his left shoulder that said "Diabetes & Kids."
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One winter evening, I had a reminder of how good I used to feel after a walk. It was freezing outside, but the walls of the house were closing in. The kids were screaming, there were dishes to be done, dinner to be made, everyone wanted something from me, but Super Mom needed a vacation.
"I'm taking the dog for a walk," I said to my husband.
Off I went, but not on my normal walking route. My intention was just to clear my head and to be alone. To just take a leisurely walk. But I could feel the drive to walk intensify. My sneakers pounded the pavement and that sound of rubber on asphalt and grinding sandy dirt under my shoes was all I could hear on that evening in my sleepy town.
Man, this feels good! I thought to myself.
Man, oh, man, does this ever feel good!
I walked farther and farther and kept going faster and faster. My face was freezing, my nose was running, but by God I wasn't stopping.
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