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

Every time I drive into Hipsterville, I see this woman sitting at the end of the exit ramp. She's panhandling. She looks put together, although she does have a lot of stuff with her. I'm assuming she's homeless. I don't give money to panhandlers for a lot of reasons, but this woman's sign has caught my eye more than once.

 

Her sign says that she has diabetes.

 

Of course, now I want to stop and see what she needs. Does she really have diabetes? Does she need a meter? We have tons. Does she need test strips or insulin or does she have type two and needs pills? Or, and it sucks that this thought went thru my head, but it did - is she merely looking for clean syringes to resell?

 

Do I really want to get involved in this? Should I stop next time and ask? Or am I opening myself up to a scam?

 

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I was in my truck today picking up some fast food from Mickey D's. I typically don't eat fast food. Actually, I never do- but today I was in a hurry and I just wanted to get something fast and not have to put to much thought into it. As I was ordering, I realized that with diabetes there is no such thing as just a "quick little meal". Any time I eat something, I have to put some serious thought and effort into it. Everyday, I put serious energy and brain power towards calculating things in my head.

My life revolves around eating and calculating.
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Last Monday, I was all set to write a post titled "No More Excuses!" I basically had the whole thing written in my head. All I needed to do was type it, spell check it, and post it. The gist of it was I have no more excuses for putting off taking care of myself. The baptism party was over, there are no all-you-can-eat holidays in the very near future and the weather is expected to warm up enough for me to walk outside again soon.
That's it. No more excuses. No reasons for letting my blood sugar slide. No whining that it's too cold to exercise. No cupcakes in the cupboards. Absolutely nothing to get in my way. I was set to diet, to exercise and to take care of my diabetes. And nothing was gonna stop me now. (READ MORE)

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His knees are bent.

 

Like a frog.

 

His nostril whistles.

 

He sleeps peacefully.

 

He's 56.

 

"Charlie," I whisper into the dead of night, giving him a slight nudge.

 

The ceiling fan hums.

 

"Charlie, you're low. Have some juice."

 

"Charlie!"

 

So many nights I've whispered these words into his sleeping ears. So many nights for four-and-a-half years. So many nights Susanne has. So many nights other moms and dads around the world whisper the very same words to their children in the darkness. We need a cure.

 

He keeps his eyes closed.

 

He just nods and opens his mouth when he feels the straw poking at his lips.

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This morning was the first in the roughly two weeks that we've been in our new house that I actually had time to sit down at the kitchen table to eat a bowl of oatmeal instead of quickly slapping some cream cheese on a bagel and scarfing it down in the car during my one-hour commute. Let me tell you, bolusing while driving is not easy.

 

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Today I started responding to a question left in a comment. 

 

In the end, I decided this subject deserved its own post.

 

I have lost somewhere between 40 and 50 pounds over the past year and half.  It depends on the day and the time of day and whether I've worked out - etc, etc...

 

Anyway, it's been a long, strange trip losing the weight.  And the way I did it is pretty simple.

 

I stopped trying fad diets and started doing things the one way that I think really works.  I made very basic, but important changes to my lifestyle.  

 

I count calories and I burn calories.  It's that simple.  I used a calculator I found online to figure out how many calories I should be eating if I wanted to lose weight. 

 

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Have you had a chance to catch up with your favorite Blogabetes bloggers? Here's another edition of "In Case You Missed It."
Don't miss Andy Bell's poignant and honest "I'll Have a #3 With a Side of I Don't Care." He writes about life revolving around food, which is an issue all PWD's can relate to on some level.
Nicole Purcell hits us up with another gorgeous and introspective piece on the effects of the diabetes online community with "Community." A must-read. (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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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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