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

I hate today.

 

My annual eye exam is this afternoon and every time I have to have this done, it seems I get more freaked out about it. I have a “thing” about my eyes. Let me put it to you this way, the first time I got contact lenses it took me literally 1 hour to get one in! It's embarrassing to admit that but it is the truth.

 

The fear I have is two fold. The uncomfortable procedure itself and whatever the doctor will find.

 

I cannot stand those thick eye drops. It is like molasses. Thick sticky muck being dropped in my eyes. I hate it. And it stings. At least to me it stings and there is little worse then eyes that are stinging in my humble opinion.

 

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I am a writer. At times, I fancy myself an artist. I create things. With pen, paper, a camera, paint.
My mother says that I ate the world up as a young girl. That I couldn't get enough. I would stay up into the wee hours, watching the shadows on the wall or examining the shapes on the wallpaper from top to bottom and then bottom to top. She also says I didn't care to sleep. She felt I was afraid I'd miss something. I think she's right.
I still spend a lot of time looking at things. Feeling light, color, and texture with my eyes. Scrutinizing the world around me. I suppose some of this is the artist in me. The need to really SEE things before I can include them in the art I'm making.
And some of it is how afraid I am of losing my eyesight. (READ MORE)

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Fear of needles. Fear of blood. Fear of hospitals or doctors. These are all normal phobias in the world. People commonly relate to one or all of these fears, whether from bad experiences, horror stories or movies/TV shows.

 

But for a diabetic, what are our fears? Of course, many diabetics deal with the fear of needles, blood or hospitals/doctors. I'm fine with the needles and the blood, but I have a strong dislike towards doctors. I wouldn't say I'm afraid of them, but I don't particularly like to hear what they have to say (this stems from every doctor's appointment in my past that I would leave crying from because my control just wasn't good enough).

 

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One week into my revised blood glucose monitoring plan and the results are scary. Actually, "atrocious" is the word I used when e-mailing my doctor begging for help. The numbers are so bad that I found myself hiding my logs from my mom when she came over last week. It's that bad.
Prior to having a baby, I was very much in control of my diabetes. I have been a more than compliant patient from diagnosis through the birth of my son. So when my doctor suggested I need to take it easy and lay off the obsessive testing for a while, I took his advice.
Of course, I tend to do things in extremes. "Take it easy" turned into "don't test at all, unless you're feeling low." Now I can see how easy it is to ignore a disease that has virtually no symptoms. (READ MORE)

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When I was in high school I played volleyball. Like most schools, we had a junior varsity and a varsity team. I believe I was a sophomore (maybe I was a junior,it was a long time ago) when I started playing for JV and varsity. OK, so I actually played for JV and mostly warmed the bench while the varsity team played until the coach got mad at a player and decided to send me in.
At any rate, I was called a floater, as were the other girls who played for both teams. Until I got involved with the diabetes community, my definition of floater was a person who moves between two high school volleyball teams. It wasn't until I started frequenting the Diabetic Mommy web site that I learned there are actually more definitions for this word. (READ MORE)

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When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, I read everything I could get my hands on about it. The fear of complications kept me in line. In fact, when faced with the temptation of cookies and cake, the phrase "blindness, dialysis and amputation" helped me walk away with not so much as a taste.
I guess that's why I took it so hard when my vision started blurring recently. At my post-pregnancy opthalmalogist visit, my eyeglass prescription had changed so much in the last six months, the doctor suggested checking again in a few months instead of getting a new prescription now. He explained my recent high blood sugars (thanks to that third attempt at diet and exercise "control") had temporarily distorted my vision. There are no signs of perminent damage, yet. Get my sugars under tighter control for a two to three months and we'll check again. (READ MORE)

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Diabetes has made me a hypochondriac. Every ache, every pain, every change is some condition, disease or syndrome. Now typically I don't truly believe I have any of the things I so often "self-diagnose," but I have to admit that I am constantly living in the shadow of my diabetes. (READ MORE)

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We all know that diabetics have an increased risk of everything from heart disease to kidney disease to glaucoma. Because of this increased risk, it is very important for diabetics to have regular checkups in many fields. Personally, I am always scheduling appointments for one thing or another. My main appointments include the following: (READ MORE)

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Sometimes I am shocked at how invisible diabetes can be. I was having practice at church the other night for the contemporary band when my Bass player asked us to pray for him.
"Of course! What is going on?"
He explains to me that he is having surgery on his eye to drain fluid in it and would just like us to keep him in our prayers. He started telling us about how he had this same surgery on his other eye and that it worked really well so he his hopeful that this surgery will be another success. I asked him what causes the problem he is having.
"Diabetes." (READ MORE)

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Diabetes occupies a full-time space in my head with a steady stream of voices. It is loud and omnipresent.
The voices question me: "I wonder if his blood sugar is OK?"
The voices remind me: "It's time to check his blood sugar."
The voices fool me: "His blood sugar should be OK."
The voices intrude on a blissful moment alone with just the baby; Lying on our backs in the yard and staring up at the sky with a comfortable breeze lifting our shirts and tickling our bellies.
I point out everything around us as Ben does his best to repeat the words. He often leaves off the first few consonants.
"Trees," I say, pointing straight upward.
"Eeeeez."
"Sky," I say.
"Eye."
"Grass" gives him some trouble as well. (READ MORE)

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