More Chronic Friends + Call for Submissions

A few miscellaneous items you might like to know about over the holiday weekend. Or not — what, you won’t be glued to your computer reading me?! ;)

Pointer_2 First up, Quote of the Week:

“Exubera was not our finest day,” acknowledged Pfizer’s vice chairman, David Shedlarz, during a recent conference call with analysts. “We made a lot of mistakes with what is a profoundly important therapeutic.” (courtesy of PharmaGossip)

Can you see me smiling?

Pointer_2Second, did you know that Sept. 10-16 is National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week? Really! This campaign is “a worldwide effort to bring together the people who live with invisible chronic illness and those who love them.” Check out forCi_awareness_week all the details.

Further to my discovery of the country’s leading chronic illness coach, a few more interesting blogs on the topic:

Chronic illness Pain Support

Pointer_2Third, calls for submissions / places to share your D-experiences:

Author Sheri Colberg-Ochs is working on the 2nd edition of her first book, “The Diabetic Athlete.” In order to collect “updated information from active individuals with diabetes,” she’s asking PWDs who exercise regularly to kindly complete a quick online questionnaire HERE (by Oct. 31 latest).

Dreaming About Water co-editors Amy Mercer and Violeta Garcia-Mendoza are seeking personal essay submissions from women writers for their upcoming anthology on female life with diabetes. See the details HERE.

There’s still a little time to give your input on the development of a new national conference for Adults with Type 1 diabetes. Hurry — you have until Friday, Sept. 7 — to fill out the survey HERE! We’re running a naming contest as well, so if you have great idea for what to call this event, you could win a copy of our Know Your Numbers book or a T-shirt or mug. Now how’s that for a tempting weekend treat?


2 Responses

  1. Renee Abramson
    Renee Abramson December 25, 2008 at 3:35 pm | | Reply

    The Night before Christmas:
    A Diabetic Adventure

    T’was the night before Christmas
    And all through the house
    Not a creature was stirring
    Not even a mouse.

    From the kitchen I heard
    Tiptoes and a creak
    And as I got closer
    A refrigerator squeak.

    I turned on the light
    And looked all around.
    Then something approached
    With a leap and a bound.

    I was stifled with fear
    But expecting shear glee.
    This thing stood before me
    Oh! What could it be?

    And as I moved closer,
    With nearly a sound.
    I couldn’t believe
    What I had just I found!

    A sweet eating monster-thing
    With barely a care
    Was there in my kitchen
    Without any fear.

    His head in the fridge
    Stealing my sweet
    Then he looked at me woozy
    And started retreat.

    I stepped right before him
    Expecting the worst,
    The small, little bugger
    Ate my liverwurst!

    It wasn’t enough.
    He wanted a high
    And went for the sugar
    With a battle scream cry!!

    He reached for the cake
    With pudding and cream,
    “Don’t try to stop me”,
    He said with a scream!

    “I’m desperate for sugar
    And carbs and for fat
    This is the place
    Without doubt I know that.”

    “Hand me the bread, pasta,
    And fries,
    And while you’re at it,
    Please supersize.
    And cute sugar cookies,
    With icing galore
    (Don’t pretend that you didn’t
    Go buy out the store).

    Then out on the lawn
    Arose such a clatter,
    I sprang to the front
    To see what’s the matter.

    Bright lights and sirens
    And noises galore,
    Loud footsteps and pounding
    Upon the front door.

    “Up with your hands,
    All eating must cease,
    It’s us, we are here!
    We’re the bad Food Police!”

    “Oh Officer, you’ve the wrong man,”
    Said he, with no malice.
    “In fact I’m the Brady Bunch maid
    My name’s Alice.

    I care for six kids
    All day and all night
    And here you go trying
    To stir up some fright.”

    “I’ve heard that before,
    You’re not fooling me!
    Tell me,
    How high was your last A1C?”

    “Diabetes you think?
    It won’t happen to me.
    I’ll just stop eating candy,”
    Then he started to flee.

    But grabbed one more sweet
    And on the way out,
    He turn and he smiled
    With a sugary shout.

    But the food police grabbed him
    And gave him a lump,
    Ripped off his shirt
    Revealing his pump.

    “Turn over those goodies,
    You sly little elf
    I’ve got a big craving
    To eat them myself.”

    “Keep away from my sweets.
    Keep away from my pump.
    Come any closer
    You’ll get tossed in the dump!”

    The officer readied
    Himself for a bite,
    The sweet eater kicked him
    Just out of spite.

    He said, “Aren’t donuts enough
    With your coffee my friend?
    After all at the waist
    You barely can bend.”

    He wanted to leave
    And looked to the right.
    His chance for escape
    Was coming in sight!

    A swift move to the left,
    A few steps to the right.
    He’s coming real close.
    His exit was tight.

    Then he tripped and he fell
    With a bang and a bump.
    Somewhere in the snow now
    Was lying his pump!

    He searched and he found it,
    Put it on with a click.
    This sweet eating creature
    Was slick on the stick.

    As he walked on the sidewalk
    Denying defeat
    Looking down and ignoring
    The pain in his feet.

    He stood there in silence
    With glaze on his face
    I couldn’t help wishing
    To help make his case

    To help this poor thing
    Gain hope and control
    So that he could be well
    And stay on a roll.

    I took my glucometer,
    checked his BG.
    I couldn’t believe it!
    Five hundred and three?!

    He looked back on his life
    It just wasn’t the same.
    Then he tried to get up
    But needed a crane.

    The man on the crane said,
    “Don’t be a jerk
    Get to the doctor’s
    And make your pump work!”

    “But I like my carbs,
    My cookies and treats!
    Whatever you say
    Won’t make me retreat!”

    Just then he was cornered
    And couldn’t move out
    With cream on his mouth
    And barely a pout

    Without choice he gave in
    And they took him away.
    Off to the doctor’s
    And there he would stay.

    The endo walked in
    With a scowl on his face,
    “My dear boy you know
    You are taking up space.

    This is the third time
    This week that we meet.
    Listen, my boy
    Lay off of those sweets!”

    He gave him his pump
    With some hope and some glee
    And that sweet eater lowered
    His bad A1C!

    And he followed his plan,
    Stayed low on the sweet.
    Took care of himself.
    He couldn’t be beat!

    He exercised daily
    And never did stray.
    Today, indeed,
    We rejoice in the day.

    The moral of this story
    Is stay under control
    Or you could turn into
    A sweet eating troll.

  2. ideas health
    ideas health February 11, 2009 at 10:36 am | | Reply

    Thanks for sharing, my grandma have been tourture by Diabetic for 40 years now, pain to see her having injection on her own daily and cant have normal meal like the rest of us. Will check back for more of your posting.

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