My Hourglass [Cloud]

Sometimes diabetes makes me feel so alone. I've always been the "token" diabetic in my family. And after almost fifteen years of being the only one, I'm adjusted to the idea. I'm good at doing this "alone." I actually like it. I know that no one I love deals with it. I never have anyone to blame. Plus it makes me unique.

In October of last year... that all changed. My dad was diagnosed with type 1. I've never worried about my parents getting it, only my future children. Yet here we are: my father has my disease. It feels horrible, a true blow to the gut. (READ MORE)

The web has brought so much clarity to my diabetes time trial. This last week has solidified in my head how much knowledge it has given me. I had an e-mail conversation with a newly diagnosed type-1 and it re-surfaced all of thethoughts and questions I had when I was first diagnosed.

• What exactly is a honeymoon phase and why isn’t there a beautiful woman involved?

• Can I indulge my endless burrito desires, and how much tomatillo green-chili salsa is too much for one man?

(READ MORE)
• 
  

Diabetic-Forum.net

Where to even start...?

And that is the point, you don't know where.

When someone is newly diagnosed with diabetes, where should their educational journey begin? Sure, there is the inevitable hospital stay, and the chat with a doctor, and possibly a self-injection tutorial (for the insulin requiring crowd), but what is the next step... after the hospital scene?

  (READ MORE)

There's something to be said about being diagnosed at a stage in life where one has memories of family and friends living with diabetes, and how well they have (or have not) managed their condition: we have real-life role-models to help us understand what we can do, and what we can avoid doing, to optimize our health. This is particularly important when we are newly-diagnosed and need to set in place the lifestyle changes that diabetes requires of us.

While I'd known several people with diabetes -- friends, family, and colleagues -- in the forty-two years leading up to my diagnosis, two stood out in particular: my childhood orthopaedist, and my stepmother's father.

"Why these two?" one might ask. "Why not your mother's grandmother, or your father's mother, or even your own mother? You knew these women a lot longer, and a lot more intimately..."

  (READ MORE)