So, who’s jumped on the Marie Kondo bandwagon and is in the midst of a massive clean-up and subsequent drop off at the local op shop?

I was all ready to roll up my sleeves and get dirty, until the bit about books. Thirty books? What kind of person only has thirty books? That was the point I decided there was nothing about Kondo that sparked joy and that she could fuck right off.

But, after opening my diabetes cupboard at the end of last year and half the contents falling to the floor, I decided that decluttering might be a good idea.

Here are some of the things that I found in there:

  • Eight different diabetes spares bags in different stages of disrepair.
  • Three brand new Casualty Girl bags, waiting to be used.
  • Seventeen (I am not exaggerating) meters that I have no strips for, have dead batteries and I wouldn’t even know if I could still order strips through the NDSS. One of them I am sure was so old that if I could get it working and had the necessary strips would take twenty seconds to do a reading. No one has time for that kind of messing around in 2019.
  • Some brightly coloured lancets (which actually looked so pretty, and almost – almost – made me change my lancet).
  • And enough boring white lancets to last me and all people with diabetes in Australia until the year 2456.
  • Some questionable looking glucose gel that was, apparently, grapefruit flavour. (That noise you hear is me retching.)
  • Far too many blood glucose log books which I picked up and laughed at. Such optimism to have kept them in there.
  • Pump supplies for my old Animas pump.
  • And my Animas Vibe pump – which is the back-up to my loopable backup pump. (Back-up to the back-up. Look at me growing as a person!)
  • My old Deltec Cozmo pump. (At this point, I may have teared up a little. And given it a hug. Because, damn, I loved that pump. So much joy was sparked just looking at the gorgeous little thing and remembering what a nifty little pump it was.)
  • Three boxes of syringes (clearly bought when I found myself desperately needing syringes for some reason and walked into a pharmacy only to be told I needed to buy them in bulk, because that’s how they come via the NDSS.)
  • Loose strips – dozens and dozens of them. Some of them may have been used. Some of them I can’t even remember ever having seen before. Some of them look as though they are from meters that we don’t even have in Australia. Is it possible that glucose strips can just apparate from someone else’s diabetes cupboard?)
  • Manuals for pumps (dating back to 2001) and meters and other long forgotten diabetes devices.
  • Crumpled up brochures about healthy eating with diabetes that had been annotated with comments including ‘As if!’, ‘YOU eat plain yoghurt’, and ‘This cereal tastes like gravel’.
  • And cables and cables. And cables.
  • Five empty Dex transmitter cases, with the date they were started scribbled in black Sharpie across their tops.
  • Programs from diabetes events past, including the first Six in the City series run back in 2006!
  • An iBGStar meter. Wasn’t that a fun little diabetes trend for about 25 seconds?
  • Cartridges for pumps I’ve never used.
  • Lanyards from a couple of conferences.
  • A few empty insulin bottles that I was going to use for a craft project until I remembered that I don’t do craft projects.

I threw out a heap of things, straightened up the rest and closed the cupboard door. I sat down on the bed and looked at my diabetes cupboard. I realised that trying to apply the Marie Kondo approach to cleaning up diabetes supplies has one major flaw. Going through all the things in there sparked a lot of emotions, but joy was not one of them. In fact, joy is not really ever an emotion that I would associate with diabetes. Frustration, anger, sadness, ambivalence, tedium, fear? They’re sparking all over the place. But joy? Not so much.

Thought about changing lancets. But the idea didn’t spark joy.