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This convention is about bringing together people affected by diabetes. Key speakers come from all corners of life and locale, sharing their knowledge on relevant topics. On convention day, Dr. Steve Edelman, founder and director of Taking Control Of Your Diabetes (TCOYD), lead the way into a successful conference on all things diabetes. His opening presentation set the mood for a care-free and info packed day at the San Diego Convention Center. (READ MORE)

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This convention is about bringing together people affected by diabetes. Key speakers come from all corners of life and locale, sharing their knowledge on relevant topics. On convention day, Dr. Steve Edelman, founder and director of Taking Control Of Your Diabetes (TCOYD), lead the way into a successful conference on all things diabetes. His opening presentation set the mood for a care-free and info packed day at the San Diego Convention Center. (READ MORE)

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As I came in the back door, I asked E. if it was OK that we had come this way. "Of course," she said, kissing my cheek, "you're family." It was Saturday night and we were all gathered to celebrate Hanukkah with our friends. Friends I've known since sixth grade, friends I went to high school with, grandparents of friends and ex-stepmothers of friends.
As with most holiday celebrations, one of the focuses of the evening was the food, particulary the potato pancakes. And Uh Mah Gawd does my friend's mom make the most incredible ones I've ever had. (OK so they're the only ones I've ever had, but that's not really the point.)
Anyway, as was requested, I sat where I was. Turns out there were mostly kids at my table, but whatever. I also sat next to Pearl, an old friend's grandmother. She has trouble walking and is without most of her upper body strength, so she essentially sat where she was, too. My friend J. asked Pearl if she could make her a plate. (READ MORE)

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As I came in the back door, I asked E. if it was OK that we had come this way. "Of course," she said, kissing my cheek, "you're family." It was Saturday night and we were all gathered to celebrate Hanukkah with our friends. Friends I've known since sixth grade, friends I went to high school with, grandparents of friends and ex-stepmothers of friends.
As with most holiday celebrations, one of the focuses of the evening was the food, particulary the potato pancakes. And Uh Mah Gawd does my friend's mom make the most incredible ones I've ever had. (OK so they're the only ones I've ever had, but that's not really the point.)
Anyway, as was requested, I sat where I was. Turns out there were mostly kids at my table, but whatever. I also sat next to Pearl, an old friend's grandmother. She has trouble walking and is without most of her upper body strength, so she essentially sat where she was, too. My friend J. asked Pearl if she could make her a plate. (READ MORE)

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My inaugural season coaching Charlie's soccer team - The R2s - came to an end. The soccer part went well. We scored "THIS many" goals. (Holding up sticky orange fingers) The other teams scored "THIS many goals." (Holding up slightly less sticky orange fingers.)
I know soccer. That part comes easy. But managing diabetes when there's 117 various obstacles working against me? Not so much. I often found myself winging it; rolling the dice; holding my breath; crossing my fingers; thanking my lucky stars; speaking in clichés.
I did a lot of research on pumping strategies for excessive activity. The more I read, the more confusing it got.
Reduce basal rates by 50 percent 1 to 2 hours prior to activity. OK, I can do that.
However, watch out for high blood sugars just prior to activity due to adrenaline.
If using insulin to treat high blood sugar, use caution as activity speeds up the effect of insulin. (READ MORE)

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We were walking back to the condo from the community pool where my grandfather was undoubtedly presenting us to his bingo buddies as if we were royalty.
He'd stand between my brother and me and place a gentle hand on our freshly sunburned shoulders.
"These , are my boys."
I was 10, my brother 12.
"Here for a week," he'd boast to a gruff group of cigar-smoking 70-year-olds playing billiards in white loafers, plaid pants and large gold Chai medallions resting in nests of grey chest hair.
Pop-pop was comfortable in the background. He was star quality amongst his friends, but preferred a minor role. He was a thinker; a quiet observer who'd yield a modest smile when his presence caused schools of synchronized swimmers to stop and shout his name. He was a man of few words. But, not when we were in town. (READ MORE)

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I scoured my insurance company's database for an endocrinologist that was neither too far away, whose primary language wasn't something other than English and who got their medical degree from a school I actually recognized.

 

Like I said, I scoured. I got frustrated. Extremely frustrated. I'm in the fifth-largest city in the nation whose population consists of the elderly, Hispanics and a number of Indian groups -- all of whom are especially prone to diabetes. Why isn't there an endo on every stinking corner?!

 

I finally gave up on finding a doctor in network and decided to fork over whatever out-of-network charges my insurance company won't cover for a doctor I'll actually enjoy visiting with.

 

(READ MORE)

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Fifteen years. A decade and a half. Thousands of days. Millions of minutes. Over half my life.
It doesn't seem real that I've lived with diabetes for fifteen years. It doesn't seem fathomable that this is only the first fifteen years of many more. I can't imagine how the rest of my life will daily involve diabetes despite the daily involvement of the last fifteen years. I just can't picture more infusion sets, more doctors appointments, more worries. (READ MORE)

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In two weeks I have my next endo appointment scheduled and I am already nervous.

I am eating like it is going out of style and my increase of mass is proof positive! At work I am constantly munching on anything I can get my hands on and continue with it when I get home! I feel like I will never get back on track with Weight Watchers. I feel so far gone.

And because of all the poor food choices my blood sugars have paid the price. I keep running high all day to only crash in the middle of the night. I feel out of wack and completely out of control.

So now I have to face the music with my endocrinologist and frankly I don’t want to.

I want to ditch.

(READ MORE)

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My husband just switched jobs, which is always a headache when it comes to health insurance. If you are lucky enough to be allowed to start right away, with no waiting period, there's still that period of limbo when the old insurance has been cancelled (and man, they don't waste any time doing that) and when your new insurance is in the system.

 

Of course, Olivia needed insulin while we were in limbo. I went to CVS to pick it up and it was going to cost $335.99 for three bottles of insulin. Needless to say, we can't afford that.

 

(READ MORE)

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