Dealing with Diabetes

Hospital Memories

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On what would be my last morning in hospital after being diagnosed with diabetes, part of me couldn’t wait to go home. Even though I’d only been there for 5 days, it felt like an ordeal that had dragged on for weeks and weeks. The problem was, I could barely remember what home actually felt like. I could barely remember my life beyond those long corridors buzzing with doctors, nurses, visitors and patients at all hours of the day. Life beyond the hospital cafeteria, auxiliary shop, vending machines and coffee carts. That a world actually existed beyond that campus filled with traffic, cranes, helicopters and portable fences.

I had forgotten what life was like without having a nurse walking in every hour to check my blood sugar levels. Without having the trolley come past at breakfast, lunch and dinner time to take our orders. Having the doctors come past every morning to do their rounds. Having visitors come to see me every day. Being able to stay in pyjamas all day. Being able to sit in bed at 3pm and read the magazines people had brought me. Sneaking downstairs to explore those long corridors once the nurses disappeared. Being delivered a white-bread ham and cheese sandwich at bedtime, just in case I went hypo through the night. Hearing old Mr. Giglia across from me coughing, groaning and spluttering every 5 minutes. And laughing at some of those difficult patients I could hear from across the hallway!

In the short 5 days that I was there, I had formed a strange attachment to my hospital surroundings that had began to feel somewhat like home. Part of me felt quite comfortable sitting in that hospital bed at 9.30am on that Thursday morning watching Bones. That part of me didn’t quite feel ready to step outside into that cold, cloudy May morning and return to everyday life. Which for me, would be a new life. A life with type 1 diabetes.

When I was told I could go home, I wasn’t excited. I was hesitant. Uncertain. Nervous and scared at the same time. All of those medical ‘elves’ were about to fade into thin air and I would be left to deal with this diabetes thing all on my own. They wouldn’t let me wait for Mum to come, they were ready to force me into a wheelchair and send me to the outpatient lounge. They didn’t even leave me with enough supplies to see the rest of the day out.

As I sat there at the bus stop on that blustery, grey May morning waiting for my ride home, I didn’t know what the future would hold. I only wish I could go and sit next to that innocent, nervous 17 year old boy and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

Diabetes and Me

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Happy Diabetes Week to all of my d-friends in the UK! This year’s theme is “Diabetes and Me,” and asks us to think about how we manage our condition and live life to the full.

The one single thing that helps me to live life to the full every day is attitude. While diabetes has caused A LOT of frustration over the years, I don’t think I’ve ever spent my time wishing diabetes away. As angry as I might be, I’ve never cursed or blamed that setback on diabetes. I don’t walk around with a chip on my shoulder or attaching any stigma to myself. Diabetes is a reality that’s not going away anytime soon. Its something I’ve accepted.

I suppose I credit this to being hospitalised upon diagnosis (click here to read my diagnosis story). I had all sorts of horrible symptoms – lethargy, weight loss, urination, loss of saliva, excessive thirst, loss of appetite and panting. I honestly thought I might die. So, by the time I was diagnosed with diabetes in hospital I didn’t really care that much. I was just so relieved that all those symptoms had gone away. I had saliva and I could eat again!

In fact, most days I never really think of myself as a person who has diabetes. When I’m testing myself or injecting insulin, I never think too much about what I’m doing or why I have to do it. Its sort of become something that I subconsciously have to do and deal with.

Diabetes is one of the craziest, ever changing, emotional rollercoaster of experiences in my life. Its something that I fit into my life, and not the other way around.

I’ve graduated from uni.

I’ve cut down Christmas trees.

I’ve celebrated birthdays and enjoyed more than my fair share of cake.

And then there’s times where I’m still a child at heart (worth it!).

And when I remind myself that I have experienced all of these things with type 1 diabetes, it makes the victory even sweeter.

Diabetes Week UK runs from June 14 to June 20, 2015. Find out more about the event on the Diabetes UK website, and get involved by using the hashtag #DiabetesAndMe on social media.

Diabetes and Vices

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Last Thursday morning, I finally willed myself to set the alarm for 4am and join in the Great Britain Diabetes Online Community Twitter Chat (#gbDOC). And I gotta say I wasn’t disappointed.

The topic was diabetes and vices. When I think of a vice, I instantly think of a bad habit. Something I use as an outlet to let off steam. Something that’s hard to break away from. Something that’s not good for me. So what is my main vice? Emotionally fuelled comfort eating. On a day where my diabetes management isn’t going well, my emotions take over my rational thinking. And I’ll eat. And eat. And eat.

The thing that fascinated me most was just how many other people’s vices were also food related. So why do I turn to food as my main vice? I think its a simple case of not being able to have those treats all the time with diabetes. It makes you want them more. Its like saying to a child ‘you can’t play with that toy.‘ They’ll end up wanting it more. They’ll chuck a tantrum. They’ll tell you they hate you. And they might even plan a rebellion to take it from you when you’re not watching. So bad blood sugar levels will give me the perfect excuse to turn towards those treats. Chocolate, potato chips, ice cream, lollies and biscuits. I’ll think to myself, ‘I’m trying so hard not to eat those foods and I’m still high – so what’s the point?’

Someone suggested that we weren’t being open enough about our non-food related vices. Well, that was an easy answer for me. Short answer: anger, shouting, slamming and punching. Long answer: read my post last week on Three Stages of Dealing With Hypo Grief (and trust me, its a good read!).

I think that if I didn’t have diabetes, my vices would be completely different (and perhaps not so food-related!) They might be things like drinking. Smoking. Gossiping. Swearing (well, I still do that sometimes…) But diabetes is such a big part of my life. I deal with it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days of the year. I think about it when I wake up. When I’m at work. When I’m eating. When I’m sitting in front of the telly. Even when I stir in the middle of the night. So, naturally, I have vices against my diabetes rather than other aspects of my life.

And, if my blood sugar levels were perfect 100 per cent of the time, I don’t think I would have any vices at all!

Join the Great Britain Diabetes Online Community Twitter Chat every Wednesday night at 9pm (GMT+1) by following the #gbDOC hashtag on Twitter.

Things I Secretly Love About Diabetes

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So, what do I love about diabetes that I don’t like to admit?

Getting extra attention from the people around me. Although I don’t really show it, I’m a little bit of an attention seeker at heart. I secretly love being asked if I’m okay. All I really have to do is pause for a rest and within seconds I’ll get “Frankie, are you okay? Go sit down for 5 minutes. Have a drink. If you don’t feel well, go home.” Dad will constantly remind me to take a tablet, have a hot drink and go lie down for a while (until I actually go and do all of those things), and Mum will have a panic attack if I tell her I don’t feel like eating anything. “You have to eat something!”

Giving off the impression that I’m a super healthy person. Whenever the topic of food comes up in the staff room at work, I’m the expert. I can justify my healthy lunches to others. I know how many carbs there are in those donuts for morning tea. I can make him feel guilty about how much sugar there is in that can of coke he got out of the vending machine. I can make her feel guilty about salting her lunch. But then again, I’m pretty much shooting myself in the foot on the days where I’m caught eating a Caramello Koala or walking in with a bag of Red Rooster for lunch!

Greater admiration from others. And sounding like an interesting person, I guess. One of the most common conversations I have with people is explaining what I have to do when I eat. It goes something like “So, I have to prick my finger to make sure my blood sugar is between 4 and 8. If its too low, I have to eat jellybeans. If its too high, I have to give extra insulin. Then I have to give insulin whenever I eat carbs, depending on how many carbs I eat. And by the time I’ve finished my rant and finally look around me, the whole room is listening.

And accomplishments. They somehow just sound ten times better when you tack the word diabetes onto them. I’ve completed High School. I’ve survived Year 12 exams. I’ve gotten a job. I’ve graduated from uni. I’ve travelled. I’ve scaled the Sydney Harbour Bridge. And whenever I do make an accomplishment, whether it be d-related or not, it feels ten times better when I remember that I accomplished those things while dealing with type 1 diabetes as well.

Down Time

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I woke up at a quarter to eleven on Saturday morning. It had to have been one of my all time records. I never sleep in that late. I aboslutely hate the idea of wasting half the day sleeping. And to top it all off, my blood sugar level was a beautiful 18.9 (insert swear word). Waking up at that level is one of the worst things that I experience with diabetes. Being that high for the 10 hours I’d been sleeping is a horrible thought. The guilt of the potential damage I am doing to my body. The frustration of not having forced myself up during the night to check.

All in all, it was a pretty lousy start to the day. But it was hardly unexpected. It had been a busy and eventful couple of days. There were a couple of mornings where I started work earlier than normal. And of course, I didn’t make the time to get to bed any earlier like I should have.

Battling end of the week exhaustion, we also celebrated my Dad’s birthday on Friday. This, of course, meant a lot of bolus worthy treats to indulge in. Not to mention the delicious dinner that went before it. I can remember Mum handing me my slice of cake, asking if it was too big. It was too big. But, not wanting to draw attention or pity to myself in front of guests, I insisted it was fine. I really should have said something.

So, back to Saturday. I felt groggy. Lousy. Guilt ridden. I did something I never do. Its the one thing that I probably haven’t done since just before I was diagnosed with diabetes. I went back to bed in the middle of the day. Last time I did this I was on the verge of being diagnosed with diabetes. I had lost my appetite, my energy and willingness to go about my day. Today, I wasn’t unwell. I just needed to recharge.

Gotta say, it was just so nice to pull the blankets up, stretch my legs out and rest my head on the soft pillow as my blood sugar levels came down. I had The Goldbergs playing on my laptop and a cup of tea by my side as the afternoon light was streaming in through the window.

Turns out some down time was was just what I needed. I got up a few hours later feeling completely refreshed. My blood sugar had come down to a perfect 6.6. And I was ready to start all over again.