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

Long day.
Long day after a long night after a long day after a long night. Tired. Very tired.
Not in mood tonight to negotiate with Charlie when he throws a minor tantrum because it's shower time.
Angry dad voice comes out. I hate my angry dad voice. I hate using it on any of my kids, but I'm especially regretful after the fact with Charlie.
Charlie whips his head back on to the couch and then lays face down on the floor. I've asked him five times now to come up with me for a shower.
"Charlie! Get. Upstairs. Now!"
He crawls upstairs slowly on hands and knees like a weak desert wanderer searching for water. "Can't," he moans. "I'm so tired."
I'm certain he'd be up the stairs like a leopard if said let's play a video game.
"Charlie! Now!"
The voice in my head tells me he can't be low, you just tested him. Don't fall for it. He's just being a 5 year old not getting his way. (READ MORE)

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Long day.
Long day after a long night after a long day after a long night. Tired. Very tired.
Not in mood tonight to negotiate with Charlie when he throws a minor tantrum because it's shower time.
Angry dad voice comes out. I hate my angry dad voice. I hate using it on any of my kids, but I'm especially regretful after the fact with Charlie.
Charlie whips his head back on to the couch and then lays face down on the floor. I've asked him five times now to come up with me for a shower.
"Charlie! Get. Upstairs. Now!"
He crawls upstairs slowly on hands and knees like a weak desert wanderer searching for water. "Can't," he moans. "I'm so tired."
I'm certain he'd be up the stairs like a leopard if said let's play a video game.
"Charlie! Now!"
The voice in my head tells me he can't be low, you just tested him. Don't fall for it. He's just being a 5 year old not getting his way. (READ MORE)

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Long day.
Long day after a long night after a long day after a long night. Tired. Very tired.
Not in mood tonight to negotiate with Charlie when he throws a minor tantrum because it's shower time.
Angry dad voice comes out. I hate my angry dad voice. I hate using it on any of my kids, but I'm especially regretful after the fact with Charlie.
Charlie whips his head back on to the couch and then lays face down on the floor. I've asked him five times now to come up with me for a shower.
"Charlie! Get. Upstairs. Now!"
He crawls upstairs slowly on hands and knees like a weak desert wanderer searching for water. "Can't," he moans. "I'm so tired."
I'm certain he'd be up the stairs like a leopard if said let's play a video game.
"Charlie! Now!"
The voice in my head tells me he can't be low, you just tested him. Don't fall for it. He's just being a 5 year old not getting his way. (READ MORE)

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This is the conversation that doesn't end It just goes on and on, my friend Some woman started saying it Not knowing how it how it goes And she'll continue saying it forever just because
Ad nauseum

I keep having this conversation with Olivia (and thus, with all of you lucky, lucky people) about her not entering her blood sugars in her pump. It is driving me in-freaking-sane.

I tried really hard today not to get upset with her. I didn't yell, but I was firm. I asked her why she hadn't entered these blood sugar readings and she said she didn't know. Then she said that it's because she's pushing the buttons to quickly and half the time, doesn't even look at the pump (ack!!) when she's doing it.
(READ MORE)

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Everyone needs to take a personal day every now and then. At least that's how I feel. Lately, It seems like I have been running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I have been putting in some long days of landscaping work, I just returned from a weekend trip to Omaha, and my girlfriend is in the process of getting a job back in her home state. And needless to say, all of the chaos and daily schedule changes have my blood sugars going a little crazy. (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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The baby woke up at 4:45 this am, feverish and hungry. She had four shots at her 4-month well-baby check yesterday so this was to be expected. I dosed her with baby analgesic and fed her and by then, it was past time for me to be up and about.
Last night I didn't do any of my morning prep work. Usually I try to shower, pack my food, maybe set up the coffee maker and make sure my meds are all set up in my weekly pill box. (I have TWO seven-compartment weekly pill boxes - just like an eighty-year-old). Maybe pick out my clothes. You know, all that stuff that you can do ahead of time to make the morning less stressful. I didn't do any so I could watch Kitchen Nightmares with my husband. (READ MORE)

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I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes twenty-five years ago. Twenty-five years is a long time to live with something. It is an especially long time to live with something that requires tight control. Twenty-five years is enough time to have seen lots of bad days, lots of good days, and lots and lots of in betweens. And it is enough time for me to have had the good fortune of seeing vast improvements in access to information and treatment, developments and improvements in technology and even some improvements in (GASP!) what health insurers are willing to cover. (READ MORE)

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I had been contemplating a snack--well, more like an extension of my lunch since it was barely an hour since I had a sandwich and some sweet pickles--for several minutes when the phone range.
"This is Michelle," I said. Hmmmm, that receiver sure does feel shaky, I thought as I tried to listen to the caller.
"No, she's on the phone. Can I take a message?"
Now my hands were feeling really shaky. I knew I was low.
"Is this Jeannie? Hi! How are you feeling?" Why did I continue this conversation when I knew I needed to check my sugar? And, by the way, why exactly was I going low? Before I left my office to pick up No. 2 from school, I checked in at 77. Awesome, I thought, since I had really splurged on breakfast this morning. I grabbed a handful of M&M's just in case since it would be a good 15 minutes before I would be back at home and able to eat anything. That was barely 90 minutes before this low decided to show up. (READ MORE)

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I'm not always looking for evidence of diabetes, but sometimes I find it grinning back at me from the most obscure places. A few weeks ago, I found a bit of diabetes in an unexpected place - an infusion set cover in the change compartment of my car. It looked oddly medicinal, peering out from the bright red casing, hidden alongside a random house key and assorted bits of change.

(READ MORE)

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