Diaversary

A Decade With Diabetes

13 Comments

If I could best describe diabetes, I would say that it’s incredibly monotonous. How do I psych myself up to check my blood sugar, count the carbs in my food and deliver my insulin? How do I psych myself up to check my blood sugar again, count the carbs in my food again and deliver my insulin again?

One of the hardest things about diabetes is being able to muster enthusiasm to do this thing day in, day out. How do I keep my diabetes management feeling fresh and exciting? How do I keep myself feeling energised to put in the best effort I possibly can each day, without ever getting a break? How do I keep myself motivated when diabetes suddenly decides that what was working for me yesterday, is not going to work today?

Today marks a decade with diabetes. It doesn’t really feel like a decade. It feels like forever. I can also say that it doesn’t really feel like anything extra special when you have to do this all day, every day for the rest of your life.

Technology is one of those things that has firmly helped me to manage my diabetes in the best way that I possibly can. I acknowledge my privilege in being able to say that. The t:slim is a massive upgrade to the old Animas Vibe which constantly fatigued me. Being able to leave the house with nothing more than my phone and glucose tabs is the best feeling in the world. My rebatteried Dexcom has given me a greater level of convenience in my day to day with diabetes which I’ve never had before.

But it would undoubtedly be the power of peer support that helps to re-energise me in my diabetes efforts on a daily basis. From the #OzDOC chats of old, to being part of the Young Adult Diabetes Committee, right through to events like DX and the Diabetes Congress where I’ve met so many amazing people with and connected to diabetes. It fills my cup to the point where its overflowing, each and every time.

I’ve invested so much into myself over these past ten years, and I’m not sure that I ever would have found the motivation to do that if it weren’t for the community I have wrapped around me.

So, I guess today doesn’t feel like anything particularly special. It just feels like any other ordinary Saturday. Outside of Mother’s Day plans, I don’t really have anything special planned for today. I think I’m just grateful for that sense of normality. Well, as close to normality as possible when you have diabetes.

A decade with diabetes has beyond surpassed my expectations.

Thanks for being a part of it.

Gratitude.

11 Comments

Today marks nine years of living with type 1 diabetes.

I might only be a dia-baby in the eyes of many of you, but to me nine years is pretty significant. It represents the majority of my adult life. As it becomes harder and harder to find things around me that pre-date my diabetes, it becomes harder for me to believe that a life once existed without it.

I don’t really know what to say today except that I am grateful. I’m grateful to be here. I’m grateful to be able to wake up, savour that first sip of coffee, watch the sky light up from my kitchen window, get dressed and go to work with ease.

I’m grateful to be living in an era of modern insulins, tools and technologies that give me a really good chance to be able to manage my diabetes well.

I’m grateful to live in a country where basic healthcare and diabetes supplies are relatively accessible and affordable. Thank you, Medicare and NDSS. I’m grateful to have a job and a roof over my head that allows me to pay for those things.

I’m grateful for the time and effort that diabetes has forced me to invest in myself. From curling up in front of blogs and books to spending nights scrutinising over blood sugar patterns, and just taking the time to listen to what my body is trying to tell me. I am a better person for it.

I’m grateful to have found the Diabetes Online Community a couple of years ago, which has today evolved into an amazing tribe of peer support around me. I’m grateful for the source of friendship, support and constant reminders that I am not alone in what I am dealing with.

I’m grateful for my family. Who tagged along to those initial clinic appointments, who have helped me out massively in the diabetes finance department, and who don’t ask me what my levels have been like.

More than anything, I am just so damn grateful to feel as ‘comfy’ as I do with my diabetes. That’s not to say that diabetes isn’t hard, or frustrating or filled with its moments. But yeah, I feel comfortable checking my blood sugar. Or wearing an insulin pump. Or talking about diabetes if it helps to explain something.

So this afternoon I’ll be grabbing a coffee and something nice to go with it, sitting in the sun and reflecting on the past nine years and just how far I’ve come.

Eight.

2 Comments

It’s hard to remember a life that didn’t revolve around constant pricks of the finger. Days where I could eat whatever I wanted without thinking about the carb counts and insulin injections are all but a distant memory. Simply being able to do whatever I wanted without thinking about the impact on my blood sugar. Or not feeling so “different” or isolated from the people around me because of the invisible and complex nature of my condition.

I spent my eighth diaversary listening to fellow Perth T1D Neil McLagan talk about his recent solo bike ride from Perth to Sydney with a few of my fellow Young Adult Diabetes Committee members. Apart from seeing Neil’s name and his cause (the Telethon Type 1 Diabetes Family Centre) pop up on social media a few times, I knew nothing about him. Admittedly, I just thought of him as ‘an athlete’ – something I would not even come close to qualifying as.

As we introduced ourselves, it was incredible to hear how many similarities we actually shared. From being diagnosed at the same age, to finding connection with others online and feelings of not being in a great place for quite some time. But the one thing that resonated most with me was the significance of finally meeting another person with type 1 several years after diagnosis.

Admittedly, meeting other people with diabetes is a daunting step, and something I would not have been willing to do all those years ago. But if I had to choose one thing that has been most beneficial for me in eight years of living with diabetes, it would have to be my peers.

Twitter. Facebook. The OzDOC community. My fellow Aussie diabetes bloggers, who feel like distant family members every time I embrace them when we are brought together. The Young Adult Diabetes Committee and our thread of Facebook messages that are a goldmine of daily support and laughter.

My peers, both near and far, remind me that I am not alone in this and are what lift me up in my daily self management efforts.

As I listened to Neil recount his enthralling story of survival during his bike ride across Australia, I wasn’t even thinking about how he was managing his diabetes. Diabetes wasn’t the focus of his story, but rather something that just played along in the background.

After eight years of life with type 1 diabetes, I’ve realised that my condition is not something that I need to feel overly conscious of or burdened by.

Don’t get me wrong, managing diabetes is no easy feat.

But like Neil’s epic journey, type 1 diabetes has simply become something that plays out alongside me as I go about living my life.

You can check out more highlights from Neil’s journey on his Facebook page here.

Dear Pancreas

5 Comments

Dear Pancreas,

Congratulations. You’ve officially been in retirement for eight years today. I hope you’ve enjoyed the seemingly endless stretch of long sleep ins and lazy, effortless days.

If there’s one organ in the human body that I’ve truly come to appreciate since you clocked off for the last time eight years ago, it would have to be you.

You were able to produce just the right amount of insulin for the carbohydrates that I sent your way, and convert those carbs into energy for me to use through the day.

You were able to respond to all of the crazy factors that affected my blood sugars. Things like pizza nights, illness, stress, physical activity and even how well I slept last night!

You were able to produce just the right amount of insulin so that my blood sugar didn’t peak too high, but also didn’t drop dangerously low. You never had to chase the unicorns.

I honestly don’t know how you did that gig all by yourself for 17 years. You didn’t have any resources at your disposal. You didn’t have any healthcare professionals to guide you. You didn’t even have any friends to support you. Yet you never once complained.

Being a pancreas is in no way normal. There’s no one else quite like you. The nature of your job can feel rather isolating. Yet you held your head up high. You stood tall. You never once showed a single shred of emotion. You never burned out.

You’ve definitely pushed me far from my comfort zone. I’ve met new people, I’ve visited new places. Your retirement has definitely instilled a great deal more confidence in me than I’d ever once imagined.

Dare I say I’ve taken quite an interest in you. I read about you. I talk about you. I write about you, frequently. I’ve even dedicated a whole blog to your demise. Some might say I’m obsessed with you.

You’ve left me with tonnes of additional duties since you departed the office eight years ago. I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t do the job half as well as you once did. I have to do the job of a human being as well, you know. I do try my best, you know, but somehow I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fill your shoes.

So, in case you had forgotten, today also happens to be my eighth diaversary. I’m not sure if you’ve been out shopping yet, but if you wanted to get me something really nice to mark the occasion, you could simply get up off the couch and come out of retirement.

I know I can’t offer you much, but I promise to feed you, take care of you and provide a roof over your head. I’ll never for a second take your job for granted again.

So, what do you say?

With all my love,

Frank

Six Mother’s Days Ago…

1 Comment

On this day, exactly six Mother’s Days ago, I was making one hell of a racket in the kitchen. Mum walked into the kitchen in the early hours of the morning, to the sight of me making Orange Juice Granitas with the Snow Cone Machine. I had woken her up, and she was angry.

“The doctor told you to have hot drinks!” She yelled at me, referring to what we believed at the time to be a virus.

Little did I know that when I woke up in a few hours time, I would be taken to hospital. Little did I know that in a few short hours, I would be diagnosed with diabetes. A condition that would change my life forever, yet a condition that would shape the person I am today.

IMG_0157

When I think about six years of life with diabetes today, it’s hard to believe that it’s only been six years. In some ways, it feels like it’s been a lot longer than that. I can hardly remember what life was like without the finger pricks, the insulin injections, the 2am alarms and the corrections today.

Yet every time I recall this series of events, it feels like it happened only yesterday.

Nothing else in my life has ever demanded more time and attention. Not a day goes by that I don’t worry about whether I am doing enough to stay on top of my long term health. Despite my family’s best efforts to praise me, and to tell me that I shouldn’t feel this way, diabetes always weighs on my conscience. Nothing else in my life has ever made me feel so guilty.

At the same time, I do feel proud of myself. Everything I have accomplished in the last six years sounds amazing, simply for the fact that I have done it with diabetes. 

IMG_0252

I’m grateful that I can still live a relatively normal life. I can’t recall anything that I haven’t been able to do because of diabetes. I’m so lucky to live in a country where I have access to everything I need to stay healthy.

Not a year has gone by that I have not been reminded of my diaversary on the 9th of May. But I have never really celebrated it. And after a year and a half in the diabetes community, I’ve been thinking long and hard about what I should do to mark this day.

While my diabetes might have overshadowed Mothers Day all those years ago, today I realise I have two good reasons to celebrate.

Happy Mothers Day to the Mother who continues to make sure that I eat and that I wear my Medic Alert bracelet (with little success).

And cheers to six years of life with diabetes. Toasted yesterday with Lasagne, Wine, Cheesecake, Chocolates, Coffee, and hopefully some Cannoli later this week.

I can’t wait to see what year seven will bring.

Sidenote: Happy Diaversary to Bec at Sweet and Sour Diabetes. You beat me by four days!