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

I don't think I've ever hidden my diabetes from anyone in my life. In fact, shortly after I got the call that I was pre-diabetic I was standing in my boss's office telling her.
I've never hidden it in public, either. When I was pregnant with No. 3, a friend of mine and I went to a restaurant for lunch. We were at a restaurant/bar type of place and sitting pretty much in the back. I think there was another table of people around us, but, frankly, they weren't paying attention to us. And why should they? We ordered, I checked my sugar and then prepared to shoot up. Now, this was several years ago, but I distinctly remember her saying, "Are you going to just do that here?"
With the pen needle cap in the corner of my mouth and the skin on my right love handle pinched, I said, "Yea-uh. It's not like anyone can see me." I would have done it right there even if someone was watching. (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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I debated where to wear Toohey today: in my pocket (out of sight) or on my belt as I always do. Prior to this morning, I had been to my new office three times: twice for interviews and once to sign my offer letter.* All three times Toohey was tucked neatly in my pocket, no tubing was visible, I was a normal-looking person.

 

So I debated for several days and ultimately decided not to hide, to wear Toohey on my belt as always, to be myself. I decided though to not come out and say "Hey, I have diabetes" on my first day. I just wanted it to flow, to just happen naturally. I really thought I would have had some questions since Toohey was so visible.

 

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As Type 2 diabetics, we're often told that the best thing we can do for ourselves is lose weight. And that's undeniably true. But no one tells you ahead of time how weird that process can be.
Now, I write about my own weight struggle a lot, so perhaps it's time for me to own up to some actual numbers. I'm not an "alert the media" level fat guy. When I was diagnosed with diabetes almost two years ago, I went on a panic-and-phentermine-fuled weight loss frenzy, and I lost about thirty pounds. At 6'2", I got down to about 205 pounds. So not Jude Law, but not Jabba the Hutt, either.
This was quite a difference from the worst of my college days, when I weighed (and I can't believe this, even as I type it) about 280 pounds. I was a mess, a big sloppy boozy lummox. I'd managed to lose about thirty of those pounds before I was even diagnosed, because let's face it, Dean Wormer in Animal House was right. "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son." (READ MORE)

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As Type 2 diabetics, we're often told that the best thing we can do for ourselves is lose weight. And that's undeniably true. But no one tells you ahead of time how weird that process can be.
Now, I write about my own weight struggle a lot, so perhaps it's time for me to own up to some actual numbers. I'm not an "alert the media" level fat guy. When I was diagnosed with diabetes almost two years ago, I went on a panic-and-phentermine-fuled weight loss frenzy, and I lost about thirty pounds. At 6'2", I got down to about 205 pounds. So not Jude Law, but not Jabba the Hutt, either.
This was quite a difference from the worst of my college days, when I weighed (and I can't believe this, even as I type it) about 280 pounds. I was a mess, a big sloppy boozy lummox. I'd managed to lose about thirty of those pounds before I was even diagnosed, because let's face it, Dean Wormer in Animal House was right. "Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son." (READ MORE)

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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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As I was driving home from my dad's last night, Olivia and I started talking about her dad. He's not exactly a role model-type guy and they've had a very rocky relationship for the last two plus years.

The conversation started off discussing my concerns about The Bug and Olivia commented that she didn't think the other girls could get diabetes since it didn't run in the family. I said that we didn't know that, given that her father's side of the family has an obsession with hiding the facts. After a brief discussion of her grandfather's parentage and the fact that most of his family, and her grandmother's, for that matter, were still in Ireland, she told me that a comment her dad made years ago had stuck with her for a long time.
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It's been a week and I haven't said anything to my coworkers about diabetes. Not even to either of my bosses. I'm not hiding it either. I really thought that on my first day people would be pointing and staring and asking about my pump, which I decided to wear on my belt as usual.

 

But nothing. I was surprised, actually. On day two or three, I was introduced to two people who I will work closely with in the future, one of whom noticed that something was on my belt, but she couldn't really figure out what it was. A cell phone? An iPod? she wondered aloud.

 

"It's an insulin pump," I said matter of factly.

 

"A what?"

 

"An insulin pump," I said.

 

"Oh."

 

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About this time last year I had a scare with Boo, Olivia's little sister.  She had been peeing and drinking a lot and had a blood sugar of 140 at one point. I took her to the pediatrician, but he didn't seem concerned.  I logged her numbers for a week and there was never another high reading, so I left it alone.

 

Well, this week, Boo has been asking to go to the bathroom a lot.  She's also thirsty a lot.  Her preschool teacher mentioned the constant peeing to me and said "Maybe she's getting sick.  Her breath smells a little funny."  

 

Uh oh. 

 

So I did a blood sugar reading this morning (after much crying and hiding on Boo's part) and she was 160.  I called the pediatrician and she's going in at 4:30 today.  I'm going to ask if there's another test - I don't want this dismissed.  

 

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