I recently saw a program on HBO featuring a Turkish and an Israeli physician who discussed their role in selling kidneys on the organ trafficking market. The Turk, a surgeon, saw himself as a skilled physician who is able to extend patients' lives. The Israeli, a nephrologist, saw himself as a hero. Both work in an shady industry where some people's demands and pocketbooks operate at levels far beyond our society's comfort zone: Many people consider organ trafficking to be a nefarious thing.
I haven't always been forthright and expressive about diabetes. There were a solid 10 years of my disease which I kept under wraps, hidden from everyone I knew. I was afraid of everything-to push myself harder than I had ever before, to allow people into my dark corner of the world, to allow myself to believe I could become anything that I wanted to be. I let my fears hinder my development and stayed sedentary during major points in my life.
Few treatments for type 1 diabetes have been as elusive and long-promised as inhalable insulin. The concept has always sounded remarkable: Instead of jabbing themselves with needles, type 1s (and insulin-using type 2s) could take a quick puff on an inhaler to get a dose of insulin.
A simple algorithm used to scan electronic health records could be a breakthrough in identifying cases of type 2 diabetes, according to a study published in BMC Medical Informatics and Decision Making. And that could lead to timely treatment and prevention of diabetes complications.
Ever since I was a girl, I wanted to be a mother. I understood that I wasn't ready emotionally or physically, but at a young age I simply had the feeling that being a mother was what I was meant to do with my life. I was smart, attractive, motivated, driven, and could be anything that I wanted to be. And I wanted to be a mom.
It was more than two decades ago, and Penny Hildreth was already feeling overwhelmed by life when she learned that she had type 1 diabetes. She was pregnant with her second child and worried about the baby’s safety after a car accident that had left Hildreth with a broken collarbone, a broken rib, and a punctured spleen. It was the spleen injury that ultimately led to her diagnosis of diabetes, but she was more concerned about the baby, a little girl who was born healthy despite the automobile accident. “I always say that she’s my miracle,” says the 46-year-old Portland resident.
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