Type 1 Diabetic Nurse

I woke up startled and didn’t know where I was. I had an IV in my arm and my parents were staring at me. The doctor came in

An ambulance came and carried out my mom. I didn’t know what was going on, so many questions running through my mind, what was wrong with her, was she going to be ok. I was scared, more scared then I had ever been. My sister Sheridan who was 8 asked me “what’s happening?” through tears. On that day a little piece of me began to change because if I let her see my fear that would not help anyone, and so even though I didn’t know what was happening I responded “everything is going to be ok” even though I did not trust my own words.

I had a line of 20 or so people, mainly women and children, and I immediately got to work. I sterilized the area on a younger woman's upper arm where the shot would be administered. I inserted the needle, and pushed the syringe down, then placed on a bandaid. That was it, simple, and very little work. The woman looked in my eyes and graciously thanked me. As I looked back I could see the misery she had been through, but through the darkness, deep in the abyss was the slightest glimmer, a glimmer of hope. Just a speck, but enough to leave me speechless. It was then that everything began to make

Hi, I spoke to Ms. Aida Marcia who is the Diabetic Nurse Educator. She informed me that in the past, the diabetic nurse used to do all patients education, but now the outpatient nurses are assigned to help. She also stated since these are new machines, she has been given in-services to the outpatient staff before they can actually begin patients teaching. I cc her and asked her to reply to this E-mail to give us some dates to choose from to set up our in-service.

I went into the hospital room with my mother, got undressed, and changed into a hospital gown. A woman came into the room to put an IV into my arm, then I turned on the Food Network on the hospital TV. A few doctors came into the room, asking for my name, birthdate, and other questions for identification purposes. Later, my two aunts came into the room. A few minutes later, my surgeon walked in as well to tell me that she’d come back in about twenty minutes to wheel me away to the operating table. This made it even more surreal and made me even more anxious.

I had no idea how I got to the operation room from the pre-op room or from the operation room to the post-op room. All I knew was that when I woke up I was in the post-op room. It took me awhile to fully wake up, as I was in and out of a haze for a few minutes. Once I was truly awake, I realized that my right foot was now in a boot and that it was also elevated. The nurse asked me if I was in any pain and if I needed anymore medication. After I said that I was fine, she took me to a separate room where my mother was waiting. While in this room, another nurse came in to ask me if I would like anything to drink or eat. Once I answered, she left and came back with apple juice and animal crackers. It was now around five o’clock and everything was coming to an end; we were almost ready to go home. To get me from the room down to the ground level and to the car I had to ride in wheelchair. This was my first time being in one myself. My mom and I had prepared for me possibly feeling out of sorts and not wanting to sit upright in the car on the way home. So, we packed blankets and pillows. After the whole backseat was ready and I was situated, we started home. On our way, we stopped once to get a sandwich for me because I was still hungry from not eating much that day.

September 27, 2006 is a date that I will never forget. It was the day that my four-year-old daughter was diagnosed with Type I diabetes. My daughter spent three days in the hospital to get her blood sugar levels back to normal. My husband and I were educated on diabetes management. During this stressful and overwhelming time, we became dedicated in meeting the needs of our newly diagnosed Type 1 diabetic daughter. Diabetes management became a part of our lives.

Field trips and excursions are advantageous for concreting concepts learned in the classroom for student bodies. However, they can be very stressful for children and adolescents with type 1 diabetes. In comparison to schools, public places are even fewer supportive environments for type 1 diabetes. According to an article by Edwards, Noyes, Lowes, Have Spencer, & Gregory (2014), many parents were required to be present on field trips and excursions that would allow for type 1 diabetes patients to participate in them. In some instances, children and adolescents with type 1 diabetes were not allowed to participate in them because the teachers were not educated in diabetes support to cater for their needs. If inclusion was supported by the schools,

Over the last few years, there has been a significant increase in the percentage of individuals being affected by diabetes and this raises concerns among us as to why it happens and how we can prevent it. We all have some common misconceptions about this metabolic disease, like thinking that it is purely induced by the over consumption of sugar or a sedentary lifestyle. While these are very strong contributing factors to the development of some types of diabetes, they are not the real source of the disease.

I woke up not knowing where I was questioning everything that was going on. I was surrounded by doctors i had seen previously at the rehab center, when they had realized I had opened my eyes a few of them began to shout he’s awake. After hearing them scream that I looked over and there was Addison laying in the bed next to me with tubes hooked up to him. I tried to sit up but couldn’t, there was this sharp pain in my hip. The doctor rushed over and said “Don’t try to sit up, everything is okay son.” I began to ask what was wrong with Addison but all they kept on saying was “He’s fine don’t worry about him.” The doctor were examining me as I was laying there, they checked my ears, my mouth, and my eyes and documenting all of it. Later that night

One thing in my life that usually goes unnoticed would have to be my diabetes. I was diagnosed with Type 1 on March 5, 2009. Most people tend to not notice any difference between me and others, due to the fact that I try not to let it hold me back from life. It is important to me because I will have to live with the diabetes for the rest of my life unless a cure is found. I wish others would notice what diabetes really is instead of a disease that only affects those who are overweight. Type 1 diabetes is important to me also because it has affected many in my family and I hope to someday be a part of finding the cure. My diabetes is the main reason my goal is to enter the medical field. I want to help others like me that are struggling through

The day of surgery I was so terrified my heart was beating out of my chest,my stomach was is in a big while. I grew white when I heard the doctor open the door. I told my mom “I love you.”

The participants were selected from the diabetic clinic of St. Thomas Hospital both in the outpatient department and those admitted with diabetic foot ulcer. Total 180 participants were selected randomly and assigned to control group (conventional treatment) and experimental group, informed consent was obtained. (The details are given in chapter

As we patiently waited for the next gap between vehicles to pass. I felt like I had been in the truck for an hour when finally I looked up and saw the bright red and Wheeler sign saying, "Emergency Entrance" I sighed in relief and joy. When we entered, the nurse politely took me to an empty bed while my dad gave the secretary the proper information. I started to get very uncomfortable due to the long drawn out beeps from the heart monitor belonging to the elderly lady on the other side of the curtain. I thought she was going to croak at any moment. The nurse returned with a needle long enough to go through the top of my head to my stomach. "Whoa! What do you need that thing for?" I asked. The nurse replied, "We have to give you an IV so we can give you the proper pain killers needed to work on your shoulder." I hate needles with a passion, and this one looked like it could kill me. She took the needle and slowly stabbed it into my arm, making the needle disappear little by little. "Whew, not that bad," I thought. Using my new IV, they gave me some morphine in hope of relieving some of the pain, but their hopes were not fulfilled. In fact, it just made me feel like pain was fun. After this my mom showed up to confront me, while we waited for a doctor to see

The next few nights in the hospital was a routine like the first night I had learn that I would not be able to eat as much sugar as I did before . Also that I may have diabetes for the rest of my life because they had been working on a