You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Diabetes’ category.
Twitter is a great source of discussion and yesterday this tweet from a diabetes consultant in the UK certainly did start an interesting conversation that had me thinking.
I should point out a couple of things before going any further. The tweet, asking if lack of guidance in social media is a concern, was in response to a tweet from someone else who shared a post from a Facebook page about insulin omission for weight loss. This is a very serious issue – one that I have written about here, (and elsewhere), and worked on a lot in the last decade or so.
Also, the consultant was absolutely not suggesting that social media is a ‘bad’ thing, and he is actually an advocate and user of online platforms, so this is not about the individual. It is about the issue at large.
Obviously, I am a huge fan of social media. Apart from finding online – and more broadly, peer – support an important part of my own personal diabetes management, I have built a significant part of my career extolling the benefits of online connections and the value of sourcing information and support from others living with diabetes.
The changing landscape of diabetes information and support over the last ten or so years has been significant. With more and more available online, and more and more people being online, there has been a real shift from healthcare professionals being the keepers of information and deciding what people with diabetes SHOULD know to a more egalitarian framework from which to source what we need.
While some may believe this to be the end of civilisation as we know it, (dramatic, I know), I consider this change terrific, because instead of having very controlled and conservative information on offer, there is now a veritable smorgasbord of material – and knowledge – from which consumers can pick and choose. Personally – I love being able to do that. Hearing personal experiences and picking up tips and tricks about day-to-day life with diabetes contribute to me making decisions about how to manage my own condition.
One of the suggestions frequently made about how to safely use SoMe is for it to be better moderated. My argument is that the power and value of SoMe platforms is that it is not moderated. Being free to share my ideas and experiences without fear (or perhaps care?) of judgement is not only useful, but also cathartic. And getting feedback from my peers often provides a different lens through which I can view a situation. Much of what I have learnt would not be found in the pages of a textbook, or offered in the office of a HCP. And that’s fine – there are other very valuable and important considerations that are shared in that context.
The idea of moderating online support – or any peer support, actually – is about control. It can be packaged up into a nice parcel of ‘protecting’ the person seeking the information, but that is not only patronising, but also incredibly demeaning. There is enough of that going on in more traditional settings – peer support is where there is freedom from that control – and a freedom to explore different ideas.
For me, peer support has always been about finding my tribe and learning from them. It has been about finding a source of sustenance and care that makes me feel better about my situation. It’s never been about replacing or substituting what I get from my HCPs.
So what is the role of HCPs in our support space? My belief is that it is a place for them to learn. There are times that it may be appropriate – and even encouraged – for HCPs to step in and share. On Facebook, one of Australia’s leading CDEs frequently comments and adds to conversations in closed diabetes groups. Her professional advice is always spot on – never judgemental – and her personal perspective (she has diabetes herself) shows just how it is possible to blend the ‘What-I’m-told-I-should-do’ with the ‘And-this-is-what-works-in-real-life’.
But not everyone who wants to be involved in this space has diabetes, nor should we expect them to. But I think for me, I have a very clear understanding of online and peer support works – and what everyone’s role is. When this works well, it works because it is being led by PWD; they (we!) are the ones driving the discussion and the focus. It’s not dangerous. We don’t need guidance. Because it is our space and we own it.
What peer support means to me,
Recently, I heard myself saying to a friend with diabetes that she really didn’t need to – and shouldn’t – apologise for diabetes, specifically, for needing to stop to check her BGL while we were mid-conversation.
‘Don’t apologise,’ I said to her. ‘It’s just part and parcel of diabetes.’
And then, I heard how often I do it.
‘Sorry – I just need to treat this low.’
‘Sorry, darling. Would you mind just grabbing me a juice box from over there?’
‘Sorry – I had a lousy night with crap high BGLs and hardly slept. Would you mind repeating what you said? I missed it. Sorry.’
‘Sorry – my pump is wailing at me. Let me just see what it wants.’
‘Sorry – my CGM is alarming. I need to calibrate…hang on a sec…’
‘Damn. I’m out of insulin. Sorry. I just need to refill my pump.’
‘Sorry for munching on these glucose tabs. I’m okay – just trying to ward of a low.’
‘Sorry. My brain is foggy! I think I might be low….’
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry…
Why am I apologising for my messed up beta cells? I didn’t destroy them. (Actually – technically I guess that’s not true. My own body did kill them off. But it wasn’t deliberate on my part…This is all getting rather confusing, so let’s just agree that it’s not my fault that I have diabetes.)
Why do I say sorry for having to treat or manage or address the health condition I live with all day, every day, and do things that I only do to keep me well…and alive?
I’m not alone here. Many others do the same. I’ve sat in rooms with friends having nasty lows and heard them apologise over and over again as they treat and will their glucose levels to rise. We do it amongst ‘friends’ – others from our pancreatically challenged tribe who get it better than anyone else, and we do it with those who are not living with it.
When I apologise for my diabetes, I am making it sound like I have done something wrong – intentionally or accidentally. And that is never the case. I’ve never intentionally been low or high. And even if it could be considered an accident or something I could have prevented – perhaps over- or under-bolusing or forgetting to refill my reservoir before leaving home – it was never done with the aim of being disruptive to others. Or myself for that matter.
What I am also doing is apologising for diabetes inconveniencing others. And I am also saying it is something shameful. But I can’t do anything about having diabetes. And it is not shameful. I am certainly not ashamed of having diabetes.
I wonder if it is a case of good manners going too far. Manners are very important to me – I have instilled this in our kidlet who is frequently complimented for her beautiful manners. But manners are about courtesy and respect – and that respect is for yourself as much as others. I think I am actually being quite disrespectful to myself when I apologise for having to ‘do diabetes’.
My body, which really doesn’t like itself, is not a reason for me to say sorry. I do enough managing diabetes without having to feel the need to repent all the time. So I’m not saying sorry anymore. Well, I’m going to try, anyway!
The other night, I drove through the pouring rain to Geelong to speak at an information session for healthcare professionals about CGM technology. The event was run by AMSL, the distributors of Dexcom here in Australia (the disclosure song and dance can be found at the end of this post).
I sat on the panel with Dr Natalie Harrison, a terrific local endocrinologist (oh – how’s THIS for a bit of disclosure – we went to kindergarten together!!) and paediatrician and diabetes technology champion, Dr Peter Goss. I was there to bring the overall IQ of the panel down, share the ‘living with CGM’ story and be the point of difference between the glossy information presented by the CGM company.
On the left – the numbers of all readings in the glossy propaganda (it’s about 6.2 in our language). On the right – real life.
Both presentations by the doctors on the panel were enlightening. They clearly showed how CGM could be used in a number of different scenarios. The thing I particularly enjoyed was how both speakers are using this tech as tools of empowerment for the adult or child with diabetes – not for any other reason. Both repeatedly said that although in most of the cases they presented, there was a reduction in HbA1c, the biggest benefits to the PWD was improved quality of life. (I may have done a little fist pump each time they mentioned that!)
Examples included shift workers, tradies working on construction sights, exercise nuts, kids, adults, teens – demonstrating a terrific cross section of the diabetes community who may – and indeed have – benefitted from the technology. There was also a discussion about how CGM is useful in specific target groups and situations, with a considerable time of the discussion being about low carb diets and CGM. (And can I say just how refreshing it was to have this discussed with little judgement from the speakers. Too often LCHF or just LC is dismissed by healthcare professionals without any willingness to accept that there are many people who are using this as part of their diabetes management and achieving excellent results.)
Dr Goss also mentioned how useful CGM tech can be for families where ‘dead in bed’ is a real concern because it can show families just how stable glucose levels usually are overnight, and therefore may help reduce a lot of the anxiety parents feel. (There was also a discussion about the significant emotion around DIB and how it is frequently overplayed. This is really important because while one person dying from DIB is one person too many, it is thankfully a very, very rare occurrence (as shown in all local and international literature). The fear and the risks need to be in perspective and unfortunately, that is not the case at all times, and the anxiety it is causing is unnecessary.)
After the official, smart speakers finished, I stood up. At this stage, the AV equipment had called it a night, so I put aside the few slides I had developed, and shared a few things.
I spoke about why I love this technology and why I choose to use it pretty much all the time. But I also spoke about its limitations – specifically the emotional and psychological barriers that are of concern. I raised the point that reluctance to use CGM by PWD could be for myriad reasons and to never assume what that reason is (this was in direct response to the suggestion from one of the speakers that often PWD refusing to wear CGM have something to hide). I suggested that for some, it is a huge step to agree to wear something attached to one’s body all the time – something that provides a lot of confronting information, beeps, alarms and can be downright annoying. This is not a small consideration – it is big!
I also spoke about the necessity to customise just how PWD use the technology. I explained how I turn alerts on and off, depending on how engaged I am with my care. I could see that didn’t sit well with everyone so I tried to explain that being able to deal with – and respond to – a couple of alerts, is better than having the all on and doing nothing because it is too overwhelming. Or simply not wearing the technology at all.
And I also spoke about how what I do to make CGM work for me, even if it is against the direct advice of the company – and HCPs. Case in point, my sensor and transmitter are on my arm at the moment. I have found that recently, I get better readings and the sensors last longer if that’s where I site them. I also leave the sensors in for a lot longer than the suggested 7 days. (Peter Goss concurred with both those statements saying that most of the children and adolescents he sees prefer to wear sensors on the upper arm. And there was a bit of a ‘who leaves their sensor in the longest’ discussion, with Dr Goss sharing that the record in his clinic is 26 days. I did disclose that while I have a mental block about going beyond 21 days, I know people who have doubled that!)
This is why it is important to hear directly from people who use the technology. While both doctors shared case studies, the focus was really on how CGM helped smooth out glucose lines. And of course that’s important. But equally important is the way we manage the technology in our life, because if we can’t find a way to get it to work for us, we won’t wear it. After the presentations, a couple of HCPs thanked me for being there and said that I had raised a number of things that they just had not considered before – all things that are usually missed when a PWD is not part of the discussion.
And it served as a reminder again that even though it is terrific to have people with diabetes represented in some ways in presentations at these sorts of events (or conferences, meetings etc.), the only way to hear the real story is to hear it from someone living it.
Thanks to AMSL for inviting me to speak, but more so, for putting a person with diabetes up there on the panel. We belong there.
Disclosure
I was invited to speak at this event by AMSL Diabetes, Australian importers and distributors of Animas and Dexcom. I was provided with product to speak at this event…. The team from AMSL did not hear or see my presetantio prior to the evening and the only direction I was given was to share my experience of using Dexcom. Which I did – the good, the bad and the ugly.
(For the record, although not really relevant, but I’m disclosing the crap out of everything here, I also use an Animas pump. That was wholly paid for by my private insurance company whose premiums I pay each fortnight through clenched fists of frustration as their premiums continue to rise. I also pay for the ongoing consumables needed to drive said pump.)
I am not the sharpest tool in the shed sometimes. In fact, there are many times that I wonder how I have managed to get to this stage of my life without doing some permanent damage, or embarrassing myself so monumentally that I could never leave the house again without wearing a disguise.
But even though I am sometimes a sandwich short of a picnic, I am still able to decipher between high and low blood glucose levels and understand what constitutes in range, below range, above range, stratospherically-above-range-so-do-something-now and about-to-plummet-to-new-depths-if-you-don’t-mainline-glucose (the last two are highly technical terms).
Yesterday morning, I woke up with a start and within 2.1 milliseconds, realised I was low. Really low. I reached over to my bedside table and scanned the Libre reader across my arm to this:
There is some really useful information on that screen. The large font-size numbers confirmed my ‘I.Am.Low’ predicament. The graph is also useful (perhaps not while my glucose is sitting at 2.3mmol/l, but later on I was able to look at it and try to work out the reason for the rapid drop from 1am). The red line below my target range is also useful because it shows how long I had been floating around there before I woke.
The piece of not so useful information is the alert in the top left hand corner. A warning sign with the words ‘Low Glucose’
This is not only on the Libre. If I try to bolus on my Animas pump when my BGL is above range, the delivery steps are interrupted so that I can be told that I am high. I know, Sir Pump-a-lot. That’s why I am pressing buttons. I need you to do your thing and give me some insulin. It makes absolutely no sense to halt the process right now to remind me I am high.
I know I sound like I am whinging for the sake of it. I could just ignore the messages and focus on the fact that this great tech is helping me manage my diabetes is a really useful way.
But the problem with these little messages is that they are a constant reminder of how frequently I am out of range. It’s not enough just to see the out of target number, but my devices then do a little ‘ner ner ni ner ner’ song and dance about it too.
It makes me feel that a lot of time I am messing up and failing – because a lot of the time my numbers are not where they need to be. The last thing I need is to feel that my bloody diabetes tech is judging me. There is already enough of that in diabetes.
I have now been wearing the Freestyle Libre flash monitor for ten days and have some initial thoughts to share.
I wasn’t sure what to think of the Libre before using it. I had heard stories of people absolutely loving it and other tales of people not really being all that impressed. I was certainly excited to try it, as I am with any new technology and was interested to see how my experience compared with friends who had already had a go.
I went in with a very open mind, albeit a mind that has been completely and utterly won over by Dexcom and CGM technology.
Overall, I love this device and can see why, where and how it would be brilliant for some people and now, after a week and a half, have a better idea of where it fits in my diabetes management.
The Good
The insertion was simple. I could go into a whole lot of detail about how it works and what it looks like, but a very clever young lady has made a very cool video of it and she is far cuter than me. You can see it at the end of today’s post. (The caveat to this is that Ms Pumplette in the video is under 18 years and, at this stage, the Libre only has TGA approval (i.e. in Australia) for adults.)
I will just add that it was completely painless for me. As in: Did. Not. Feel. It.
The device is discreet. I have mine attached just under my upper arm, so it is completely hidden, even when wearing a short-sleeved shirt. This placement also means less likelihood of ripping it off on a doorframe or similar. The profile of the Libre sensor is fabulous – tiny, flat and completely unobtrusive. (But if you would like to pimp it, of course there is a cottage industry making lovely patches to stick either over the top of the white disc, or to augment the tape around it.)
I have found the device to be incredibly accurate – when compared with both my BGL meter and Dex. We were warned that new sensors could take up to 24 hours to start to read accurately, however I found the new Libre sensor to sync with my devices as soon as the 60 minute warm up period was over.
Obviously, one of the biggest selling points of the Libre is its convenience and there is a lot to be said for the incredible ease of just scanning a device over my arm rather than doing a BGL check.
I had a couple of Dex-less days and found that the Libre was brilliant, especially considering that within 2 hours of my last Dex sensor dying, I had a horrid hypo that left me feeling vulnerable and scared and more than a little fragile. I had the Libre scanner in my back pocket (replacing my iPhone as the reader for my Dex) and was scanning every 30 minutes or so which was very reassuring.
The less good (I am reluctant to use the word bad here)
The cost is going to prove prohibitive, with sensors coming in at $95 each, which is above both Medtronic and Dex sensors. Being factory set, there is no possibility of extending the 14-day sensor-life. I’ve not used Medtronic sensors for a while now, but from what I read, most people get a max of 14 days out of theirs. I get about 21 days from a Dex sensor – at which point I rip it out because I start to get a little grossed-out. (But I do know people routinely leave theirs in for longer.)
The reader/scanner for the Libre is $95 and is rechargeable. This is certainly a point of difference when comparing with CGM transmitters, which have a battery life of either 3 or 6 months (depending on the product you use), and cost significantly more. (Add a CGM receiver to the cost and the price goes up a whole lot more.) This is where the affordability of the Libre runs rings around the CGM devices.
I just want to quietly flag supply issues which I hope will not be a problem here in Australia. The Libre is not quite available for purchase here in Australia, but is only weeks away. At DX2Sydney, I asked if there are any supply concerns similar to those that plagued the product’s release in the UK and EU and was assured that there really should not be here in Australia. I suspect that part of the reason the launch was not immediately after TGA approval was to make sure that there would be product available.
The verdict for me
So, is this a product I would continue to use? Well, yes. And no.
I really like and I trust the Libre. Accuracy for me is THE most important measure when it comes to any diabetes device (whether that be measuring my glucose levels or delivering insulin). From that perspective, I found this to be a winner.
But the lack of alarms is a problem for me. As someone with impaired hypo awareness, being able to catch those lows is important and I can’t do that without a system that warms me. The Libre doesn’t do that.
HOWEVER – this is not a CGM device and therefore, I understand I need to frame it in that way. This is a replacement for BG monitoring and BG monitors do not alarm and I have no expectation that it will. Despite being a sensor, the Libre is meant a substitute for finger pricks and meters. Currently, I check my BG twice a day to calibrate my Dex. If I was not wearing CGM, I would absolutely use Libre over a BGL meter any day.
Pumplette talks Libre
DISCLOSURE (again!!)
DX2Sydney was being coordinated and run by Abbott Diabetes Care. The costs for me to attend the two day event (travel, accommodation, meals and transfers) were covered by Abbott. All attendees received Freestyle Libre products (one scanner and two sensors) so we could trial the new device.
There was no expectation that I would write about the event or my thoughts of the device. Abbott may have paid for me to attend, but they did not pay for my words on this blog, social media activity or anywhere else. I like to share, so that’s why I decided to write about my experience.
It’s the final day for the 2016 #DBlogWeek and I have so loved reading what people have shared about the terrific topics for this year. A huge thanks to Karen Graffeo – who not only organises the week, but sorts through heaps of suggestions (including a suggestion from a certain person who may or may not be quoted in this blog today who was, apparently, hoping for naked blogging) for the community before deciding the topics. I have been averaging five hours of sleep a night reading all the terrific posts. Big sleep-ins and afternoon naps for me this weekend!
Today’s prompt: Let’s round out the week by sharing our best diabetes tips and diabetes tricks. From how you organize supplies to how you manage gear on the go/vacation (beach, or skiing, or whatever). From how you keep track of prescription numbers to how you remember to get your orders refilled. How about any “unconventional” diabetes practices, or ways to make diabetes work for YOU (not necessarily how the doctors say to do it!). There’s always something we can learn from each other. (Remember though, please no medical advice or dangerous suggestions.)
I frequently write about diabetes tips and tricks. In fact, this post from a couple of years ago shared some ideas that still help me get through the myriad diabetes tasks required on any given day.
So for today, I thought I would go to someone else who might be able to provide some ideas that are different to mine.
Many of you will be familiar with The Grumpy Pumper. I’m lucky enough to have met him a few times in person and chat with him regularly and he would like me to describe him as a grumpy bastard. So to keep him happy (grumpy-happy), I will. He also also wants people to think he doesn’t smile (there may be evidence to the contrary…). He generally looks like this:
It’s possible I had consumed a lot of bubbles when this pic was taken.
But he has a very Zen quality that may come as a surprise to many. He has an attitude of not sweating the small stuff and just getting on with diabetes. He also has an uncanny ability to make lights flicker from across the other side of the world, and turn skies grey when he is arriving in a new country. (These superpowers are quite terrifying and probably could have been the subject matter for an episode of X-Files.)
Anyway, I asked him ‘What are Grumpy’s tips for dealing with diabetes crap’ and he told me he makes lists. The lists are:
The world according to Grumps.
I really love this attitude because it completely and utterly flies in the face of how I usually deal with things. I find that I get far too stressed about the things I can’t change or influence – both in my diabetes life and the rest of my life.
So tomorrow, I am going to go and buy a fuck it bucket and start to fill it up.
Not sure that my preferred fuck it bucket is exactly what Grumps was talking about…
It’s day 2 of Diabetes Blog Week, and the silver lining of being awake at 5am this morning was that I managed to catch up on most of the posts from day 1. This week comes from Karen Graffeo who, as she commented on my blog yesterday, I’ve not met. But we will be remedying that very shortly so I can hug her and say thanks for this. And make her buy me a coffee to help manage the sleep I’ve lost each year (and am yet to make up!) since taking part in #DBlogWeek.
Today’s prompt: We think a lot about the physical component of diabetes, but the mental component is just as significant. How does diabetes affect you or your loved one mentally or emotionally? How have you learned to deal with the mental aspect of the condition? Any tips, positive phrases, mantras, or ideas to share on getting out of a diabetes funk?
Just this morning on Twitter, I was having a conversation with a few people and eventually I found myself commenting on the emotional side of diabetes. The discussion was specifically relating to someone who had recently started using an insulin pump and I made a comment about how the learning curve could be steep and to take it easy.
Someone jumped in and said that he found the learning curve to not be steep at all (which is great and also highlights the different ways different people respond to diabetes). He commented that he thought it was pretty straight forward and that most people should be able to follow some basic principles – such as timing of glucose checks and understanding what happens around food and insulin (a movable feast as far as I am concern – there is no understanding, just watching with confusion at why something worked yesterday but not today….).
This may be true. There probably are some principles that could be consistent for most people. However, this was not addressing everything I was referring to which may contribute to the gradient of that learning curve.
Matters such as insulin dosing, timing of glucose checks and counting carbs are, just like working out which buttons to push on the new device, technical. But I believe this is certainly not the only side to diabetes.
I pointed out that it was more than just the technical side to a pump start and commented as such, adding ‘…emotional concerns of ‘attachment’ can be difficult for some, explaining in my next tweet that the term attachment was referring to being connected to something 24/7. (This is something that almost everyone I have ever spoken to has mentioned as a real barrier to starting on a pump or other wearable device – the idea of a constant, attached to the body reminder of diabetes. It was even a discussion last Friday at #DX2Sydney.)
Too often, some forget that diabetes is not about only about operational matters. The equation of ‘you eat, you take insulin to cover the food and then you are all good to go’ does not hold true. In the case of technology it is not, ‘you learn to press buttons and then you are fine.’ Just as I am much more than my diabetes, my diabetes is so much more than food, medication and devices.
When people ask me what I find the most difficult about living with diabetes, I am able to answer without hesitation. For me it is a combination of the relentlessness of the condition alongside the way in permeates all aspects of my life. It is particularly disturbing and distressing for me when it impacts my family who shouldn’t have to deal with diabetes.
I don’t have the answers or know how to fix these troubles. But I do know that there are a few things that help.
- I have learnt to be kind to myself.
- I have learnt to not compare myself with anyone else.
- I have learnt that this too will pass – even the darkest diabetes moments have had light somewhere.
- I have learnt to rely on the people around me who love and support me.
- I have learnt that the moment that I get complacent and think I have this diabetes thing sorted, I absolutely don’t.
- I have learnt that looking to the DOC provides me with a million things I’ve not thought of, and one of those things may work for me today.
- I have learnt that sometimes I need to draw a line in the sand, call it a day, and admit that diabetes is winning right now. But that doesn’t mean it will tomorrow.
- I have learnt that when all else fails, the things that make me feel best are a hug from Aaron and the kidlet, a message to one of my far away diabetes friends, a perfectly made coffee or a glass of Prosecco, and something to take my mind off diabetes.
- I have learnt that even though I have really had some dark emotional days with diabetes, I get up and do it again tomorrow. Because that is the only option.
Day two of #Dx2Sydney is about to kick off. Yesterday was about getting to know just who is in the room, as well as getting an idea about the product and yes, we all did get to trial it last night and most of us are now sporting little white discs on our arms. I am slowly, but surely, making my transition to droid with three medical devices stuck on my body.
The droid you’ve been looking for…
Some of us have been commenting on our SoMe feeds already about the event, so I thought I’d quickly put together a list of who is here so you can follow along. There are eight Australian bloggers here and I’d encourage you to support our local talent and have a read (not only about this event – which they may or may not write about).
Ashley at Bittersweet Diagnosis
There have been a fair bit of tweeting throughout the couple of days, so you might want to jump on Twitter and check out #DX2Sydney.
Also, lots of people are asking about launch details (including costs) of the Freestyle Libre. The Abbott website has all the information you need.
DISCLOSURES
As explained in yesterday’s post, travel, accommodation, meals and transfer costs have been covered by Abbott. And all attendees have also been given two Freestyle Libre sensors and the reader.
I may write about my thoughts of using the Libre device after I’ve trialled it for a while. I might not. Abbott have no input to the words I may write.
I’m in Sydney for the next couple of days for the Diabetes Exchange (DX) program hosted by Abbott Diabetes Care. The event which runs over two days is part of Abbott’s global DX initiative which aims to bring together diabetes bloggers from all over the world. The Sydney event follows on from the initial meeting in Berlin, and next month, there will be an EU event, this time in Stockholm. (How’s your French? Google translate may be able to help you with this wrap up of the Berlin event from my dear friend Andrea.)
I am terribly excited about the Sydney event for a few reasons. Firstly, it’s all about the tech. Make no mistake, we’re here to talk about the Abbott Freestyle Libre monitoring device which (finally) received TGA approval earlier this year and will be launched into the Aussie market in the very near future. It’s exciting technology – and how clever are Abbott in bringing together a group of bloggers who may just share their experience (of both the event and the device) with others?
I am also excited because I will be surrounded by my peers – others who also live with diabetes. I will be with old friends, others that I only know in the 140-characters-or-fewer world of Twitter and others that I have never met (in real like or online) before. I am especially excited that it is an Australian event because it is always fascinating to see and hear the close-to-home perspective and just how different it can be even though we are accessing the same health system while living with same health condition. (I’m also thrilled to be in a room full of Aussies because it means I won’t spend a significant part of the day asking ‘Does that translate?’ as I try to explain something that makes absolutely no sense to anyone from Europe, the US or the UK.)
I have been very fortunate to sit around tables around the world at similar events and the power and value is not because we all agree with each other. In fact, the real magic happens when there is respectful and robust discussion where everyone is given the opportunity to safely share their experience and perspective. I so hope that is the outcome of the DX2Sydney meeting.
I am facilitating DX2Sydney, which is terrific because it means I don’t have to say much. I mainly get to listen and hear others’ thoughts. The agenda is packed full of interesting topics and there is plenty of time for tangents and questions. Well done to Abbott for bringing us all together. This is a terrific opportunity for us as bloggers, but it is also such a brilliant opportunity for Abbott to get some valuable insight into working with PWD. We have a place at this table; there is no issue with industry and PWD talking, engaging and sharing. I’m so pleased to be here to do that!
Our Aussie blogging community may be small – and this may be only the second time that a group of Aussie diabetes social media influencers have been allowed in a room at the same time (the first time being Diabetes Victoria’s innovative Diabetes SoMe Summit back in 2012), but I am so pleased that we are being given the opportunity to lend our voice to the global DX initiative.
You can follow along on Twitter at #DX2Sydney. And I’ll be linking to any blogs or commentary from the other attendees in later posts.
DISCLOSURE
DX2Sydney is being coordinated and run by Abbott Diabetes Care. The costs for me to attend the two day event (travel, accommodation, meals and transfers) have been covered by Abbott. All attendees will also receive Freestyle Libre product so we can trial the new device.
There is no expectation that I will write about the event or my thoughts of the device. Abbott may have paid for me to attend, but they have not paid for my words on this blog, social media activity or anywhere else. I do, however, promise to try to keep myself nice and not swear. (But that could go pear-shaped any moment!)
DX2Sydney is being held in the ACDC suite of the hotel. Who said diabetes isn’t rock ‘n’ roll?
‘Your body is not broken.’
I received this message from someone who reads my blog. They were not being aggressive or rude, but there was an element of frustration in their words to me. The messenger was trying to get me to focus on the things that do work, rather than the things that don’t and she reminded me that the odds are strongly in favour of things that function as they were intended!
I am so tied up with how my body behaves and what it doesn’t do that sometimes I do forget what it can do. And I am (to a lesser degree, but still too much) concerned with how my body looks, and attribute the things I don’t like to the ‘broken-ness’ of it. I spend too much time seeing what I don’t like, leaving me unhappy and miserable with not only the malfunctioning inner parts, but also the outer shell.
I thought about this as I was eating dinner the other night – home cooked chicken noodle soup with heaps of veggies. But then I remembered I’d eaten a doughnut and a coffee and not much else for the rest of the day.
I thought of this as I climbed into my car this morning, but made sure I parked a distance from work so I could walk a little bit further than I if I had driven pretty much to the front door and found a space there.
I thought about this as I sat curled up in front of the television, mindlessly watching a movie, but remembered that I had been on my feet all day, rushing around, racing through the airport and on my feet for all but the hour I was strapped into a seat on my flight back home.
I thought about this as I lay awake at 2.30am, working on my iPad, knowing I should be asleep. But I remembered that I’d managed a nap that afternoon so my sleep debt wouldn’t be too horrendous.
I thought about this as I rushed around this morning getting ready for work, late as usual, and pulled on a pair of new and very high boots. There will be a time I’ll need to start wearing sensible shoes. ‘That day is not today,’ I said to myself as I stood up tall in front of the mirror, admiring the heels and buckles and leather.
I thought about this as I had a glass of champagne and then a second to celebrate a night out, reminding myself it was the first drink I’d had all week.
I don’t treat my body as a temple. I don’t do what’s needed to keep it ticking along as best it can. I don’t worry about things such as the number of serves of vegetables I eat each day; the fact that I don’t eat breakfast most days; that I eat bacon on Saturday and Sunday most weeks or how on the rare occasions I eat bread, I slather it an inch thick with real, salted butter.
I know my BG pretty much every minute of the day, but other numbers that contribute to the measure of health – weight, BP, cholesterol – I have no idea about, unless they’re fresh in my mind from a recent blood check.
I wonder if I should feel bad about how I treat my body. But I don’t and I don’t really think that if I did more, the things I consider ‘broken’ would be fixed. I know that if I were to look at the balance sheet, I would certainly be engaging in more healthy than unhealthy behaviours.
I also know that the things that may not necessarily be best for my body (high heeled boots, doughnuts and coffee for breakfast etc.) give me pleasure. My broken body allows for that. In fact, it makes me realise that perhaps it is not so broken after all. And that has to count for something.
Diabetogenic 