Month: July 2016

Time to Rethink National Diabetes Week?

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As I watched the response towards an amputation-themed National Diabetes Week escalate late last week, I’ve been thinking about my own stance on Diabetes Australia’s campaign. I made my opinion clear though my vlog last Monday (which you can watch here), and have steered clear from most of the conversation since. While it was disappointing to see some of the commentary getting out of hand, it will not make me feel any less guilty for having an opinion of my own. 

Diabetes Australia advocates for the language used when talking about diabetes, and for the way it has the power to shape our thoughts, beliefs and behaviours. I support this wholeheartedly – both online and off. To quote Diabetes Australia’s Language Position Statement:

“Language needs to engage people with diabetes and support their daily self-care efforts. Importantly, language that de-motivates or induces fear, guilt or distress needs to be avoided and countered.”

I can’t help but feel that a campaign focussing on diabetes amputations does induce fear, guilt and distress, and contradicts this language position statement. Two diabetes educators in our community even went further to suggest this:

“In my practice I’ll be working with newly diagnosed and people who have had diabetes for years and dealing with the heightened anxiety that comes from the strong messaging around this. Powerful messaging can do more harm than good and many people choosing this style of awareness campaign are often not at the clinical coal face dealing with the aftermath” – Ann Morris, Facebook.

“Diabetes distress is real and palpable when people talk about their fear of complications – especially in relation to the fear of foot or leg amputation. Fear is further fuelled by the negative campaign being run in this year’s Diabetes Awareness Week. We shouldn’t be surprised if they disengage about their risk or move to a default mode of thinking that they are ‘here for a good time not a long time’, then adopting behaviours that increase complication risk.” – Jayne Lehmann, Ed Health Australia.

Diabetes Australia admirably responded to some of the criticisms of the campaign in a Facebook post on Friday afternoon, which you can read here.

Diabetes Australia were campaigning for a Diabetes Amputation Prevention Initiative from our government to help prevent 85% of diabetes related amputations each year through early detection and proper care. We were also told that the campaign was not really about the person with diabetes, but to help make the broader public more aware of this issue.

While I don’t doubt the seriousness of this issue, I do question whether a very public National Diabetes Week campaign was the appropriate avenue for this lobbying. People don’t know enough about diabetes. People don’t know enough about what it is, what it entails, and how to best support those of us living with the condition. This was supposed to be our week, where we raise awareness and be proud of the condition we live with. A campaign focussing only on one issue – a negative one – does not achieve this. It only creates stigma.

I blogged about National Diabetes Week positively. I vocalised my feelings about the campaign with those around me. I enthusiastically followed the #NDW16 hashtag on Twitter all week. Yet from what I saw, very few people were actually jumping on board. Yes, there were plenty of automated-looking tweets from diabetes and health-related organisations. There were some retweets. However I saw very few people actually jumping in and talking about it.

Diabetes Queensland and Diabetes Victoria were both calling for submissions to their Diabetes Life Hacks and Diabetes Won’t Stop Me campaigns, and I don’t feel that either gathered the momentum they deserved in terms of social media engagement. I would go as far to suggest that even these more positive campaigns were overshadowed by a negative national theme.

Watching many passionately vocalise their feelings (some inappropriately) towards the campaign on Facebook, I couldn’t help but wonder what the outcome would have been if the campaign were a positive one. 

Okay, so the theme was foot health. The underlying message was to look at and take care of your feet. Why not set up a few booths across the city where people could get their feet examined for free? The CBD, universities, shopping centres, etc. Create a cool hashtag, and encourage people to post photos on social media as they’re getting their feet examined. Make an event out of it, and give people something to remember when it’s time for their next foot check.

I thought Diabetes NSW were onto something by staging a Guinness World Record – it’s just a shame that they went with “Standing on One Leg,” which seemingly made a mockery of amputees. 

I personally did not like the theme of this year’s National Diabetes Week. And if the response on social media is anything to go by, Diabetes Australia will need to reconsider their messaging in 2017.

Accepting My Ordinary

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I absolutely hated the thought of being visibly different to anyone else after my diagnosis. I would sit in the hallway at diabetes clinic, watching the other “diabetic” young adults, and I absolutely hated that I was one of them. For the first couple of years, I definitely tried to hide from my diabetes to a certain degree.

I stubbornly refused to wear my Medic Alert bracelet, despite Mum and Dad’s constant reminders that it might save my life one day, on the principle that it branded me as a “diabetic.”

I would travel as lightly as possible whenever I left the house, without even thinking about the consequences. My diabetes educator once asked me where my jellybeans and meter were. I used to live by the motto that it would never happen to me. And shops were everywhere for backup.

I rarely tested my glucose in public situations, even if I needed to. Oftentimes at uni, I would test with the meter hidden in my bag. Or pack up my things and walk off to the bathroom.

I refused to wear appropriate footwear. I would stubbornly walk around uni in rubber thongs. When my feet were blistering at the end of the day, I was proud that I fitted in with many of the other students on campus.

I wouldn’t talk about diabetes if I didn’t have to. I didn’t lean on the people around me enough for support. I wasn’t confident or enthusiastic about it when it did come up.

Finding peer support and knowledge online, and opening up about my diabetes through this blog has definitely changed my attitude towards diabetes for the better. (Perhaps some age and maturity comes into play here as well…)

Today, my hypo containers accompany me most times I leave the house. Even if they sit in my jacket all night, or stay in the car on a quick trip to the shops, I feel much more comfortable having them on me. My contingency pack is also ready for when I’m away from home for a prolonged period of time.

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I’ve developed a new love for shoes. I’ve been a thongs-and-sandals-in-the-summer kind of guy my whole life, yet now I wear them half as often. While I certainly don’t wear “diabetic” shoes, I do dress more suitably for the occasion. And a good pair of Converse shoes looks good with anything.

Today, my glucose meter sits proudly on my desk at work, within easy reach when I need it. I test in the office that I share with a few other colleagues, and it’s sparked a couple of conversations in particular during recent weeks.

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I’m still tragically hopeless at stringing words together when people ask me if that is a diabetes testing thingy (translation: blood glucose meter), but boy am I so much more confident in addressing it.

I still don’t wear a Medic Alert bracelet most of the time, but that’s purely just because I’m annoyed at the old expanda band sticking to my wrist (something I need to get onto, soon).

I’ve recently began wearing an insulin pump – a very visible sign of my diabetes. When I think about those first few weeks on the insulin pump, I think about how much I talked it through with my family every morning when I woke up – something that I simply wasn’t able to do after I was diagnosed.

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I’ve been watching Diabetes Victoria’s Diabetes Won’t Stop Me campaign for National Diabetes Week, trying to think of something grand to say about how I am not stopped by diabetes.

Accepting that these diabetes intricacies are my ordinary over the past few years, is far more extraordinary than what climbing a bridge will ever be.

That, folks, is how I will not be stopped by diabetes.

(Coincidentally, today is also my one year BridgeClimb-aversary!)

Diabetes Hacks: Four Ways With Test Strips!

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I had been using FreeStyle Optimum test strips since I was diagnosed. These were wrapped in foil, and left a lot of mess on my desk because I’m too lazy to throw them in the bin straight away. Travelling with them was a nightmare. If you’re like me and want to take 5 boxes with you in your hand luggage in case of a plane crash, this can prove to be a challenge among all the other travel junk.


Last year my diabetes educator gave me a FreeStyle Insulinx meter, and I was introduced to the world of FreeStyle Lite test strips. Quite honestly, they’ve changed my life forever. Instead of the annoying foil wrapping and bulky boxes, these test strips come in small capped vials of 50. They are so much more convenient to use on the run. 10 vials will fit much easier into my hand luggage. There’s no annoying foil wrapping to rip open before I can get to the test strip, and the blood sample required is so much smaller as well. I really notice the difference when I’m using my old Optimum Xceed meter at work. (Of course, FreeStyle is not the only brand of capped test strips you can buy).


Then there’s the mess. Test strips are so damn messy. Partly because I use so many of them. Partly because of the foil, if I’m using the Optimum ones. But mostly because I am too lazy to pick them up and throw them in the bin after each blood glucose test.

A few months ago, I had this pencil cup that I was ready to throw away. Today, it sits on my desk beside my blood glucose meter, acting as a rubbish bin for used test strips and leaving my desk clean and free from blood stains (eww, right?).


Then there’s the leftover blood on my fingers after a glucose test. I always wipe it with an alcohol swab, apply pressure with a tissue and then wash my hands.

Yeah, right!

I’m a wiper. I wipe the leftover blood on my finger against the side of my test strip, toss it into my pencil cup, and I’m good to go!

Finally, to repeat one of my favourite hacks, test strips vials make great hypo jars. My hypo brain always manages to lose count of the skittles I’ve eaten. This hack saves me so much time when I’m low and all I really want to do is shove sugar in my mouth as quickly as possible!

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Have any diabetes life hacks of your own? Post yours to Diabetes Queensland on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram using #diabeteslifehacks and the team will share them during National Diabetes Week!

Finding My Tribe

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People don’t see me at 2.30am in the morning, shivering, and shoving skittles down my throat. They don’t see me on a restless night, rage bolussing stubborn highs that refuse to go down. Or the finger pricks I perform every time I walk out of the room.

People don’t see the insulin pump that I pull out of my pocket underneath the table. They don’t see the loads of discarded test strips and insertion devices underneath the lid of my rubbish bin.

People don’t see the guilt I feel every time I put a donut or a piece of chocolate into my mouth. They don’t see how tied down I feel every time I walk out of the house, with a jacket or satchel stuffed full of diabetes crap. Or the failure I feel at the bruises and scars that are hidden underneath my shirt.

People don’t see the exhaustion I feel, every time the alarm clock goes off to check my glucose in the middle of the night. They don’t see the burnout I feel behind every smile, and every single ‘good morning’ that bounces off my face.

People don’t see the rollercoaster of emotions that flood through my body when the door to my room is closed. They don’t see the fear I feel, every time this condition takes an unpredictable turn. Or the judgement I place on myself, every time I go quiet.

You don’t see diabetes, when you look at a person like me. You see normal. I daresay you even see healthy. You see me drinking coffee and eating donuts, just like everyone else. You don’t see all of the tasks that managing this condition entails. You don’t see the isolation I feel, living with a condition that you need to experience to fully understand (and trust me, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone).

For me, a big part of what was missing from my own diabetes equation for the first four years was peer support. Nothing really does beat the feeling of hearing someone else say the words “me too.” “I get it.” Or “I hear you.” Nothing beats the anticipation I feel, every time I refresh my diabetes feed reader. Nothing beats the enthusiasm I feel during OzDOC chats every Tuesday night. Nothing beats the sense of community I feel every time I am glued to Twitter, that makes me feel far less alone with my condition. Nothing beats being able to lean on my family for support when I need it, something that I simply wasn’t able to do after my diagnosis.

There’s an old saying that goes, “find your tribe and love them hard.”

I’ve definitely found mine, and they certainly won’t be going away anytime soon.

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VLOG: There’s More To Diabetes Than Complications

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It’s National Diabetes Week here in Australia, and many of our diabetes organisations are focussing on the dreaded theme of complications.

I know that it’s pretty easy to sit behind a computer screen and complain about something, so I’ve decided to front up behind a camera and address the campaign through a vlog.

All you need to do is hit the play button below.

(And I hope I don’t disappoint those of you hearing my voice for the first time…)