The Power of Words In The DOC

It’s the smallest things that mean the most to me.

Like the surprise e-mails that arrive in my inbox from time to time. I need only tap the title card and I’ll almost certainly be guaranteed warm words. The greeting, so friendly and so personal, it could be from someone I saw only yesterday. The narrative, so open and inviting, as though the person writing it could be someone who knows me in real life. The kindness, so real and so genuine, that I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.

This week, I was absolutely touched by a relatively new friend in the diabetes online community. I had the widest grin on my face when I read that they were so inspired by my “non-championed, non elite” account of life with diabetes.

Was I touched to receive a compliment? You bet. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.

However, it was the power of those words themselves that were even more touching.

I am not a celebrity. I am not an athlete. I am not one of the cool kids. I am not the biggest Facebooker, Tweeter or Photographer. I am not a genius. I am not rich. I am certainly not the kind of person who can sugar coat everything and tell you what you want to hear. And I certainly don’t have diabetes all figured out, either…

However, I can write. I love to write. It takes time. It’s creative. It’s thoughtful. It’s very meaningful. I find it extremely empowering, and even a little therapeutic at times. I channel a lot of my creative energy into my writing week in, week out. Writing is my passion. It’s something I would happily do for the rest of my life.

I think it’s simply amazing how something as ordinary as words can be so powerful. It’s amazing how these words can form a connection. A bond to someone on the other side of the world, who I don’t even know. It’s amazing how words can usher in this sense of community. A space for support and security, that I rely on each and every day. It’s amazing how something as consuming as diabetes can be overpowered by reading simple words that I can relate to. Words that urge me to respond with “I get it.”

I am simply an ordinary person, who also happens to have diabetes. It was one of the very reasons I began to blog just over a year ago. It was one of the reasons I was so touched by that compliment.

Words are powerful. Words are the reason I write. Words are the reason I will continue to exist in this diabetes community each and every day.

Until we find a cure, know that your words mean as much to me as mine hopefully mean to you.

Happy Friday!

The Physical Toll of Blood Sugar Swings

My alarm clock went off at 5.45am yesterday morning, and it was honestly the best I’ve felt in months.

It took me 2 minutes to get up out of bed, instead of the usual 10. My eyelids weren’t so heavy, and I didn’t have to fight the urge to close them shut again. I wasn’t groaning, and I didn’t feel so exhausted for a change. I was standing in the kitchen, sipping my morning coffee, before the clock on the oven had flipped well past 6.00. Add to that, a perfect blood sugar level of 7.8.

Going about my day, I just feel really good at the moment. I feel good on the inside. I’m not breathing heavily, my mind is at ease, and I’m much more relaxed. I’m not so angry at silly things. I feel kind of, well, free.

I’m in a really happy place with my diabetes at the moment. After months of really struggling, and after months of every effort feeling like an effort, diabetes is suddenly running really smoothly again. Looking back from the other side of a rough couple of months, I am finally realising how much of a physical effect crazy blood sugar swings were having on my body.

Right now, diabetes management seems to be “working.” Every action seems to spawn a flow on effect, that echoes positively throughout my day.

Take Monday, for instance.

My blood sugar hovered in the 4s. For the whole afternoon.

Come dinnertime, I was debating over whether to give 11 units of Lantus, or drop it down to 10. Now that I’m no longer eating so much junk, a smaller dose is enough to keep me stable through the night. My intuition told me that 10 units would do the trick, and it did!

We’ve had a nice spell of mild weather this week. It was not 28 degrees at bed time for a change, and I was actually tempted to have an early night. I enjoyed a comfortable night’s sleep without the air-conditioner and a scratchy throat in the morning, which has been sorely missed these last few months.

In addition to that, diabetes efforts through the night are significantly reduced. I find that I no longer need to predict lows or chase highs at night time. Rather, my levels are a lot more stable, and I have a lot more confidence in where they are sitting through the night. I was 8.7 before bed on Monday, which was fine as there was still a little active insulin on board. When I woke up to check at 1am, I was 7.5. I thought about the frittata I’d had for dinner, and decided on a half unit of insulin to cover any delayed effect from the egg. It worked a treat!

Of course, none of this is happening by magic.

I am doing all of the hard work here. But I am paying attention to those finer details. Like carb counting, pre-bolussing, snacking healthier, and thinking more carefully. It’s those finer details that produce this flow on effect, where everything is “in sync.” And when everything is in sync, it allows me a little more ease overall in managing my diabetes.

Right now, I am motivated. I am motivated by the way I am feeling. This diabetes high tastes so good, and I want to do everything in my power to make it last for as long as possible.

A Turning Point

I feel as though all of my diabetes efforts over these past few months have been like putting on band aids. Taking holidays over Christmas, reminding myself of pending clinic appointments, and even pulling out my shiny new Insulinx meter that I’d saved for the New Year. Like all band aids, my diabetes efforts have gone wayside. The motivation just hasn’t been there lately. If I’m being honest with myself, the last really good stretch that I can remember was back in August when I wrote this.

It’s easy to tell myself I’ll review the numbers every day. It’s easy to tell myself that I’ll take the time to look at what I’m going to eat, and pre-bolus. It’s easy to tell myself that I’m going to log my insulin doses in my Insulinx meter. It’s easy to tell myself I’m going to be more careful with my insulin doses, so that I’ll have fewer hypos. It’s easy to tell myself that I’ll prepare more interesting lunches, so that I’m not tempted to buy Cadbury Choc Chip Hot Cross Buns from Woolies instead.

Diabetes is hard. Diabetes is so damn hard. My recent visits to diabetes clinic only reminded me of just how unmotivated I have been over these past few months.

I know, I’m too slack,” was all I could mumble as Gwen gave me a very frank perspective on my meter results. As she was reminding me that I needed to be logging my insulin doses and minimising my hypos, all I could really feel was overwhelmed. All I have felt lately, is overwhelmed.

After a few days of feeling really burned out by my diabetes a week ago, I finally reached a turning point.

I realised that I was sick of waking up feeling utterly exhausted every single morning, fighting every urge to close my eyes again. I realised that I was sick of eating junk food so often, and feeling uncomfortable afterwards. I realised that I was sick of hearing my sighs of exhaustion all the time. I realised that I was sick of my diabetes making me feel twice as angry at the other things going on during my day. I realised that I was sick of feeling guilty, and in a bad place with my diabetes.

Since that turning point, I feel as though I’ve finally found that motivation again. I’m counting my carbs. I’m pre-bolussing. I’m logging my insulin doses. I’m putting more effort into making my diet less boring. I feel somewhat lighter.

And on Saturday, I had a near-perfect day (until 10.14pm, that is).

I’ve got this “click-click-click” intuition on my mind at the moment. Like the cogs on a well oiled wheel. Almost like the final pieces of a puzzle clicking together, seamlessly into place.

Somehow, diabetes seems a whole lot easier to manage when everything is going right.

I’m going to remind myself going forward, that this is how I want to feel all the time.