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Work today involved celebrating 45 Victorians who have lived with diabetes for 50 or more years. There are no words to say how humbled and inspired I am by this group.
Congratulations to this year’s Kellion Victory Medal recipients.
The keynote at this year’s Awards was presented by one of my favourite diabetes people, Cheryl Steele who I (and many others) most fondly refer to as ‘Aunty Cheryl’.
Cheryl giving her wonderful keynote address.
The Kellion awards celebrate not only the person living with diabetes, but also their support network – something Cheryl pointed to in her keynote address.
I have attended about 15 of these ceremonies. They never get old or stale. Today was an absolute career highlight for me; emceeing the awards was an honour and privilege.
The stories I read out today fill me up with hope and I am inspired to keep going.
There were many quote-worthy moments from today’s ceremony, but my favourite came from 50 year recipient, Vikki Donovan who gave the following advice:
‘Don’t let diabetes impede on who you are and what you can be. Life is for living, diabetes is for managing.’
I’m a long way off getting my Kellion medal. But I will get there one day.
I accidentally bought an Apple Watch last week.
It was the day before we left for Friends for Life and we were in the Apple Store so Aaron could buy one and then I tried one on and thought about how awesome the Dexcom Share thing is (even if we don’t have it in Australia yet) and convinced myself that the watch was pretty much a medical device and got a little indignant that I couldn’t claim it on my health insurance and justified the purchase by considering the tax I could claim back before heading to Orlando. And then I breathed. (Need help justifying a purchase? Just ask me!)
The Apple Genius pointed out all the features to us and kept focusing on the health apps. I smiled and nodded and stopped listening, because: exercise. I just kept thinking about how cool it would be to take calls on my watch. Like Inspector Gadget.
I set up my watch to do the things that I thought I would use, and decided that I would also set up the activity and health tracker stuff. Gender, weight, height, activity level (low) etc. etc.
Monday was the first day that I actually bothered to check the data. By midday, I was surprised to see that I had done almost 10,000 steps. Somewhere in a part of my mind that is rarely accessed, I remember that we should aim for 10,000 steps a day. I was nearly there! By the end of the day, I had completed nearly 20,000 steps.
I need to admit at this point, that Monday was a travel recovery day for us and we spent it at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, wandering the park and being terrified on roller coaster rides. There was a lot of walking. A. Lot.
The next day, MasterLab kicked off and I spent most of the day sitting in a conference room, walking the long halls to refuel on coffee. My watch started reminding me to move. Every so often, I would feel a gentle pulse on my wrist and this message would flash up:
‘Great,’ I thought. ‘Now my watch is judging me.’
I got to the end of the day and found myself disappointed to see a total of only 9,000 steps – nowhere near the previous day’s activity.
The rest of the week in Orlando saw me regularly checking my steps and doing all I could to make sure that I hit at least 10,000 steps a day; a goal, I am pleased to say, I smashed.
I certainly didn’t get an Apple Watch with the intention of using it as an activity tracker (I have a Fit Bit lying unopened in a cupboard somewhere at home which I could have used had I wanted to do that), but it is a feature that I probably will use sporadically.
But the feature is a good way to check in and see just what I am doing. I’ll be interested to see what my activity is when I get back home and return to normal programming.
And in the meantime, I am waiting, waiting, waiting for Share to be launched in Australia. Because that is a tracking app I am ALL over.
*It’s Thursday in Australia, but Wednesday where we are.
We got here. Thirty-two hours, four plane legs (thanks to an unexpected stop in Tampa due to thunderstorms closing Orlando airport), a kid who vomited her way through pretty much all thirty-two hours of the four plane legs, and hour and hours of low blood sugar somewhere over the ocean.
And now on my wrist is a bright green band. I’ve reconnected with friends I’ve known for years here and made new ones. And there are strangers by the pool with matching green bands and matching pumps hanging from their bathers.
My family are getting to know the Friends for Life family, being welcomed as warmly as I was when I first met everyone.
‘They look like diabetes people,’ said Aaron as we were walking around the lake the other evening.
‘How do you know?’ I asked him, wondering if he had developed a diabetes-detecting superpower.
‘She has a pump attached to her pocket,’ he said, nonchalantly.
And she was. I hadn’t even noticed.
It’s going to be a big, big week!
Follow ow along at home:
The Diabetes Hands Foundation MasterLab Summit – “A More Effective Summit’ is using #MasterLab and Friends for Life is at #CWDFFL15
Putting together a presentation a couple of weeks ago, I came across this and was so excited I actually squealed:
(Click image for source)
File it away under #RenzaIsAGeekGirl (#AndProudOfIt)
Have a great weekend! My family and I are travelling to Orlando for Friends for Life on Sunday. I’ll be popping in now and then next week.
Here is a little bit of Tom Lehrer. Please indulge me! (And for Harry Potter fans, here you go.)
Last night, I had a dream that someone was speaking with me about diabetes and I was unable to understand them.
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what that word is. Can you use it again in a sentence? How do you spell it?’
‘D-I-A-B-E-T-E-S. You DO know what it means. I’ve heard you talk about it before. You write about it.’
‘Do I? I’ve never heard of it. Tell me about it. What to I write about it?’
The person in my dream kept insisting that I knew all about it and that I actually worked in the diabetes field.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a doctor.’ I said to them, laughing.
‘No. Not a doctor. You are a person with diabetes who works with others with diabetes. It’s a peer thing.’
As I got more confused and the person insisting that I was some sort of ‘diabetes person’ became increasingly frustrated with me, I woke up.
In that delirious, delicious moment between dreaming and being awake (it’s called hypnopompia which is such a beautiful, evocative word) diabetes ceased to exist.
Diabetes ceased to exist.
It only lasted a few seconds, but it happened. And it happens most mornings. Unless I am jolted awake because I’m low, or with a sudden urge to pee because I am high, there is a moment – a sweet, brief, perfect moment – every day where diabetes ceases to exist.
And, my friends, it is my favourite time of the day.
Yesterday was Social Media Day. Actually, it’s still going in the northern hemisphere.
And here is an example of how to be a dick on social media:
Now, after being a dick on social media, here is what you should do. (It’s actually quite easy.)
Instead here is how you keep being a dick:
(The Nick Jonas reference was in response to this tweet.)
Seriously CrossFit, shut up!
Also, if you want to insult all people with diabetes, how about trying something original? This has been done to death. Jamie Oliver did it earlier this year; Aussie comedian Dave Hughes did it a few years ago. And a pathetic little café in Sydney did something similar exactly 12 months ago today. It’s old…really old.
Making fun of health conditions is not clever. It shows ignorance and it is just plain nasty. How about you show some kindness and talk about how your program can actually help people living with (all types) of diabetes? Wouldn’t that be inclusive rather than divisive? Novel, I know.
Last word goes to the Diabetes Hero Squad (who makes me laugh daily!) with this.
Diabetogenic 