November 12, 2008 |
BERNARDET Cash was diagnosed with diabetes 14 months ago, which shook the 48-year-old from West Philly to the core. "I was scared," she says. "I was so much into denial - and depressed for a little while - but then I said, 'This is part of life and you have to deal with it.' "I'm a strong woman," Cash says. "You cry it out a little bit, then you get over it. " She had plenty of help. The American Diabetes Association advises patients that because of the disease's many intricacies, they'll need a team of health-care specialists to back them up. Cash has a village: Dr. Charles Gartland Dr. Gartland gave Cash a blood test to screen for diabetes as part of her annual exam last fall.
April 1, 2008 |
When doctors told 28-year-old Nakia East that her 1-year-old's sudden weight loss and unusual thirst were caused by diabetes, she found herself thrust into a whole new level of parenting. "They told me everything was going to change," said East, who lives in Upper Darby. Since then, she has learned to inject her son, Yanaan, with insulin four times every day. She tracks every ounce of food he eats and measures his blood sugar after each meal. And then there are the terrifying moments when the readings plunge far too low. "They told me he's going to have this his whole life," she said recently, resigned to her son's fate.
May 16, 2007 |
Florence softball players Kristin and Kelly Garganio face two opponents every time they step on the field. The sisters must beat both the other team and cope with juvenile diabetes. Kristin, an 18-year-old senior third baseman, was afflicted with the disease when she was 10 years old. Kelly, a 16-year-old sophomore first baseman and reserve pitcher, was the first of Bruce and Linda Garganio's two children to develop it, when she was 3. One in 400 to 600 children in the United States has Type 1, or juvenile, diabetes, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta.
December 17, 2005 |
Shares of a Chester County maker of insulin pumps jumped more than 30 percent yesterday after Johnson & Johnson said it had agreed to acquire the company for about $518 million. The purchase of Animas Corp. will give Johnson & Johnson immediate entry into the fast-growing market for insulin-delivery pumps, the New Brunswick, N.J., maker of health products said. Animas' pumps allow diabetics to receive continuous infusions of insulin. After the deal closes, Animas, which was founded in 1996 and has 350 employees, is expected to operate as a stand-alone entity under LifeScan Inc., a Johnson & Johnson subsidiary that sells systems to monitor blood glucose.
November 24, 2005 |
Nurse Jean Saxon did not apologize to her dead husband's family, nor did she offer any explanations before being sentenced yesterday to life in prison for the insulin-induced murder of Jerry Saxon. "I wasn't expecting any apology because of who she is," said Michael Saxon of Levittown, Jerry's brother. "She still thinks she's innocent. " A jury convicted Jean Saxon, 46, of Levittown, of first-degree murder and other charges Monday in Bucks County Court. In announcing the mandatory life sentence with no chance of parole yesterday, Judge David W. Heckler added one month to seven years for theft and one to six months for possession of a controlled substance, making the sentences run consecutively.
November 22, 2005 |
The evidence against nurse Jean Saxon was circumstantial, but overwhelming. It took a Bucks County jury only an hour to convict her yesterday of first-degree murder in the insulin-induced death of her husband, Jerry, 52, in March 2003. The prosecution argued that Saxon's weapon was unusual, but her motive wasn't: She injected her nondiabetic husband with insulin, causing his blood sugar to drop to a remarkably low level. She did it to gain $152,000 in life-insurance benefits, her husband's pension, their new home, and the freedom to be with the married coworker with whom she was having an affair, said Michelle A. Henry, chief deputy district attorney.
November 19, 2005 |
Nurse Jean Saxon told a Bucks County jury yesterday that the syringe found in the toilet of her rented home was used not to inject her husband with a fatal dose of insulin, as alleged by prosecutors, but to give a friend a vitamin shot. The prescribed painkillers and antidepressants that she instructed her daughter to hide from police were stolen not by her, but by her former boyfriend, Saxon testified. As for the search stringing the keywords "insulin, ingested and dangerous" found on Jean Saxon's Levittown computer the day before her estranged husband, Jerry, was discovered unconscious in his Bensalem apartment, Saxon said she didn't do it. She offered no explanation as to who had. Jerry Saxon, 52, died in April 2003, five weeks after his wife found him comatose.
November 18, 2005 |
Nearly a year after Jean Saxon moved out of a rented Levittown home, her landlord discovered a syringe in the base of the toilet - a find the prosecution in Saxon's murder trial presented in Bucks County Court yesterday as the case's smoking gun. Edmund Armstrong said he found the syringe after taking the toilet apart to see why it repeatedly clogged. He called a Bensalem detective to retrieve it. Saxon, 46, is charged with the murder of her estranged husband, Jerry, 52, who lapsed into a coma on March 17, 2003, and died five weeks later.
November 16, 2005 |
Using her charms and a hypodermic needle, nurse Jean Saxon killed her estranged husband in 2003 so that she could collect insurance money and be with her lover, the prosecution argued yesterday in the opening of Saxon's murder trial in Bucks County Court. But if that were true, where was the needle mark on Jerry Saxon's skin?, defense attorney John Fioravanti asked. And where was the needle? "No one can say that an insulin injection caused Jerry Saxon's death," Fioravanti said.
September 13, 2005 |
Lucille Hechler stood behind the padlocked rusty iron fence that shielded her dilapidated Lower Garden District home from the outside world, fiddling with a dirty change purse and glancing nervously at her siblings on the porch strewn with boxes and trash. "We've never been out no place, honey," she said. "Nowhere but here. " This is a typical inhabitant of New Orleans two weeks after Hurricane Katrina smashed through the city: members of the underclass so desperately poor or in some cases mentally ill that they had been clutching to the margins of this city long before the storm clouds even formed.