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‘What would the ideal campaign about diabetes complications look like?’
What a loaded question, I thought. I was in a room full of creative consultants who wanted to have a chat with me about a new campaign they had been commissioned to develop. I felt like I was being interrogated. I was on one side of a huge table in a cavernous boardroom and opposite me, sat half a dozen consultants with digital notepads, dozens of questions, and eager, smiley looks on their faces. And very little idea of what living with diabetes is truly about, or just how fraught discussions about diabetes complications can be.
I sighed. I already had an idea of what their campaign would look like. I knew because more than two decades working as a diabetes advocate means I’ve seen a lot of it before.
‘Well,’ I started circling back to their question. ‘Probably nothing like what you have on those storyboards over there’. I indicated to the easels that had been placed around the room, each holding a covered-over poster. The huge smiles hardened a little.
Honestly, I have no idea why I get invited to these consultations. I make things very hard for the people on the other side of the table (or Zoom screen, or panel, or wherever these discussions take place).
I suppose I get brought in because I am known for being pretty direct and have lots of experience. And I don’t care about being popular or pleasing people. There is rarely ambiguity in my comments, and I can get to the crux of issue very quickly. Plus, consulting means getting paid by the hour and I can sum things up in minutes rather than an afternoon of workshops, and that means they get me in and out of the door without needing to feed me. I think the industry term for it is getting more bang for their buck.
I suggested that we start with a different question. And that question is this: ‘How do you feel when it is time for a diabetes complication screening’.
One of the consultants asked why that was a better question. I explained that it was important to understand just how people feel when it comes to discussions about complications and from there, learn how people feel when it’s time to be screened for them.
‘The two go hand in hand. I mean, if you are going to highlight the scary details of diabetes complications, surely you understand that will translate into people not necessarily rushing to find out more details.’
I told them the story I’ve told hundreds of times before – the story of my diagnosis and the images I was shown to convey all the terrible things that my life had in store now. Twenty-five years later, dozens and dozens of screening checks behind me, and no significant complication diagnosis to date, and yet, the anxiety I feel when I know it’s time for me to get my kidneys screened, or my eyes checked sends me into a spiral of fret and worry that hasn’t diminished at all over time. In fact, if anything, it has increased because of the way that we are reminded that the longer we have diabetes, the more likely we are to get complications. There is no good news here!
‘But people aren’t getting checked. They know they should, and they don’t. And some don’t know they need to. Or even that there are complications,’ came the reply from the other side of the table.
Now it was me whose face hardened.
‘Let’s unpack that for a moment,’ I said. ‘You have just made a very judgemental statement about people with diabetes. I don’t do judgement in diabetes, but if you want to lay blame, where should it lie? If you’re telling me that people don’t know they need to get checked or that there are diabetes complications, whose fault is that?’
I waited.
‘Blaming people or finding fault does nothing. That’s not going to help us here. You’ve been tasked to develop something that informs people with diabetes about complications – scary, terrifying, horrible, often painful – complications. Do you really want to open that discussion by blaming people?’
Yes, I know that not everyone with diabetes knows all about complications, and there genuinely are people out there who do not fully understand why screening is important, or what screening looks like. The spectrum of diabetes lived experience means there are people with a lot of knowledge and people with very little. But regardless of where people sit on that spectrum, complications must be spoken about with sensitivity and care.
The covers came off the posters around the room, and I was right. I’d seen it all before. There were stats showing rates of complications. More stats of how much complications cost. More stats of how many people are not getting screened for complications. More stats showing how complications can be prevented if only people got screened.
‘Thanks, I hate it,’ I thought to myself silently.
I spent the next half an hour tearing to shreds everything on those storyboards. We talked about putting humanity into the campaign and remembering that people with diabetes are already dealing with a whole lot, and adding worry and mental burden is not the way to go. I reminded them that telling us again and again and again, over and over and over the awful things that will happen to us is counterproductive. It doesn’t motivate us. It doesn’t encourage us to connect with our healthcare team. And it certainly doesn’t enamour us to whoever it is behind the campaign.
I wrapped my feedback in a bow and sent a summary email to the consultants the following day, emphatically pointing out that I am only one person with diabetes and that my comments shouldn’t be taken as gospel. Rather they should speak with lots of people with diabetes to get a sense of how many people feel. I urged them again to resist using scare tactics, or meaningless statistics. I reminded them that all aspects of the campaign – even those that might not be directed at people with diabetes – will be seen by us and we will be impacted by it. I asked that they centre people with diabetes in their work about diabetes.
But mostly, I reminded that anything to do with complications has real implications for people with diabetes. What may be a jaunt in the circus of media and PR for creative agencies is our real life. And our real life is not a media stunt.
Disclosure
I operate a freelance health consultancy. I was paid for this work because my expertise, just as the expertise of everyone with lived experience, is worth its weight in gold and we should be compensated (i.e. paid!) for it.
Psst…forgotten something?
If you’re in the northern hemisphere right now, you’re possibly all caught up in the sunshine, splashing around at the beach or spending time off work just taking time out. If you’re from the southern hemisphere, you’re either smart and have taken a holiday to Europe because EVERYONE.IS.IN.EUROPE.RIGHT.NOW, or under fifteen quilts in front of a roaring fire, counting down the days until it gets warmer. Sadly, I’m in the latter group.
I get it. Things slip by either way.
But! You only have a few days left to make sure you don’t miss out on applying for a #dedoc° voices scholarship. Wherever you are, a scholarship means you have something to look forward to in a couple of months’ time and the absolute thrill of either virtually or in-person attending a global diabetes conference or two. That’s right – TWO! EASD (European diabetes conference) and ISPAD (paediatric diabetes conference) are the next international conferences on the diabetes conference calendar. Both will be hybrid, with the in-person locations being Stockholm and Abu Dhabi respectively.
We’re well over two years into the #dedoc° voices program now, and the awesome thing about it is that it’s not just about the few days of the conference where you get to learn from incredible researchers and clinicians, while waving the lived experience flag and being surrounded by others with diabetes. I mean, that is all pretty great. But being a #dedoc° voice goes way beyond that! Once you receive a scholarship you are part of a network of remarkable diabetes advocates from across the world, and this network is the most supportive, encouraging, brilliant group of people, always ready to help. Every single week, I see people reaching out for support and advice and the responses are swift and many. I’ve not seen a single example of anything other than support, and have watched advocates truly flourish as they have worked with others, developed mentoring relationships and been supported to do brilliant things.
Unless you’re part of the program, you wouldn’t know this. And here’s the deal: anyone can become part of it. The #dedoc° voices program is open to people from across the world and everyone is in with an equal chance. You just need to spend some time completing an application. It is a competitive process, and places are limited. The people who get accepted are the ones who have taken some time with their application and really been able to demonstrate just how they are going to #PayItForward to their diabetes community if successful. No one is a shoe in; having a high follower count on socials means nothing if your application is sub-par. We take people who are new to the diabetes advocacy space, and are looking for a hand carving out their space, as well as seasoned advocates who are keen to work with others and become part of a global network, outside their own country.
So, get on it! Click on the image below, fill in the form and join us! You get to work on your advocacy while giving back to the community, all while wearing the #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs badge. How amazing is that?!
More on #diabetogenic about the #dedoc° voices program:
#dedoc° voices helping people with diabetes get into professional conferences
How #dedoc° voices supported people with diabetes in Ukraine
More on why to apply to join the #dedoc voices program
Disclosure
I have been an advisor for a number of years, and am now working with them as Head of Advocacy.
One of the real pleasures of working in the health sector has been learning from people outside the diabetes space. So much of my work is contained to the goings on in the World of Diabetes, but it is always fascinating to hear from people who are dealing with different health conditions.
And so, it is no wonder that I was enthralled during an event I was involved in for APPA a few months ago. One of the things I really appreciated about this webinar was APPA bringing in discussions about person-centred care, person-centricity, and the role of lived experience in medical affairs. It’s a tricky area thanks to obstructive codes that often act as a barrier to real engagement and involvement from those of us with lived experience.
I was thrilled to hear from Richard Vines, Founder and CEO of Rare Cancers Australia, especially his thoughts about the role of people with lived experience of rare cancers in his organisation’s advocacy efforts.
Richard spoke about how active and involved families of people with lived experience of rare cancers are in their advocacy efforts. He told a lovely tale of the myriad notes and small gifts in the (now previous) health minister’s office that had been sent to him from families who he’d met through the organisation’s lobbying and advocacy campaigns, thanking him for increasing funding and helping raise awareness of rare cancers and the challenges faced by people diagnosed with one. Richard shared that involving and including those people in all their activities was key to his charity’s success. It didn’t surprise me one bit that his attitudes closely mirrored the ‘Nothing About Us Without Us’ calls that form part of my daily advocacy.
The APPA event was back in March, and it coincided with the handing down of the Australian Federal Budget. I, along with many other people with diabetes, were devastated to learn that there was no funding allocated to broadening access to the NDSS CGM initiative. That, of course, came a month later as an election promise, but at the time, we didn’t know that.
Before that bipartisan election promise, many people with diabetes had dual frustrations of being blocked from affordable access while at the same time knowing that there have been Living Evidence Guidelines for type 1 diabetes technology for over a year now that clearly state that CGM is recommended for all adults with T1D (over BGL monitoring).
It makes no sense that professional and lived experience bodies have taken the latest and best evidence to provide guidelines for the best use of technology in the management of type 1 diabetes only to have limited funding to make it a reality. But I wondered just how many people the health minister had heard from – really heard from – to understand that. I wonder if he has letters of thanks from people with diabetes in his office.
The message that came home loud and strong from Richard Vines was that advocacy success is more likely when there is strong representation from those with lived experience to round out the story provided by evidence and guidelines. Hearts and minds. Minds and hearts.
We need more ‘hearts stuff’ from those that generally use evidence to support their case, and more ‘mind stuff’ from those who generally use lived experience to support theirs. And the lived experience must come – it can only come – from those with real skin in the game, not those adjunct to it, or claiming to speak for it.
Disclosure
I was invited to be a panellist for this Australian Pharmaceutical Professionals Association webinar and volunteered my time.
Throughout ATTD I got to repeatedly tell an origin story that led us to this year’s #dedoc° symposium. I’ve told the story here before, but I’m going to again for anyone new, or anyone who is after a refresher.
It’s 2015 and EASD in Stockholm. A group of people with diabetes are crowded together in the overheated backroom of a cafe in the centre of the city. Organising and leading this catch up is Bastian Hauck who, just a few years earlier, brought people from the german-based diabetes community together online (in tweet chats) and for in person events. His idea here was that anyone with diabetes, or connected to the conference, from anywhere in the world, could pop in and share what they were up to that was benefitting their corner of the diabetes world. I’ll add that this was a slightly turbulent time in some parts of the DOC in Europe. Local online communities were feeling the effects of some bitter rifts. #docday° wasn’t about that, and it wasn’t about where you were from either. It was about providing a platform for people with diabetes to network and share and give and get support.
And that’s exactly what happened. Honestly, I can’t remember all that much of what was spoken about. I do remember diabetes advocate from Sweden, Josephine, unabashedly stripping down to her underwear to show off the latest AnnaPS designs – a range of clothing created especially to comfortably and conveniently house diabetes devices. It won’t come as a surprise to many people that I spoke about language and communication, and the work Diabetes Australia was doing in this space and how it was the diabetes community that was helping spread the word.
I also remember the cardamom buns speckled with sugar pearls, but this is not relevant to the story, and purely serving as a reminder to find a recipe and make some.
So there we were, far away from the actual conference (because most of the advocates who were there didn’t have registration badges to get in), and very separate from where the HCPs were talking about … well … talking about us.
Twelve months later EASD moved to Munich. This time, Bastian had managed to negotiate with the event organisers for a room at the conference centre. Most of the advocates who were there for other satellite events had secured registrations badges, and could easily access all spaces. Now, instead of needing to schlep across town to meet, we had a dedicated space for a couple of hours. It also means that HCPs could pop into the event in between sessions. And a few did!
This has been the model for #docday° at EASD and, more recently, ATTD as well. The meetups were held at the conference centre and each time the number of HCPs would grow. It worked! Until, of course COVID threw a spanner in all the diabetes conference works. And so, we moved online to virtual gatherings which turned out to be quite amazing as it opened up the floor to a lot of advocates who ordinarily might not be able to access the meetings in Europe.
And that brings us to this year. The first large international diabetes conference was back on – after a couple of reschedules and location changes. And with it would, of course, be the global #dedoc° community, but this time, rather than a satellite or adjacent session, it would be part of the scientific program. There on the website was the first ever #dedoc° symposium. This was (is!) HUGE! It marks a real change in how and where people with diabetes, our stories and our position is considered at what has in the past been the domain of health professionals and researchers.
When you live by the motto ‘Nothing about us without us’ this is a very comfortable place to be. Bastian and the #dedoc° team and supporters had moved the needle, and shown that people with diabetes can be incorporated into these conferences with ease. The program for the session was determined by what have been key discussions in the diabetes community for some time: access, stigma and DIY technologies. And guess what? Those very topics were also mentioned by HCPs in other sessions.
There have been well over a dozen #docday° events now. There has been conversation after conversation after conversation about how to better include people with diabetes in these sorts of events in a meaningful way. There has been community working together to make it happen. And here we are.
For the record, the room was full to overflowing. And the vast majority of the people there were not people with diabetes. Healthcare professionals and researchers made the conscious decision to walk into Hall 118 at 3pm on Wednesday 27 April to hear from the diabetes community; to learn from the diabetes community.
If you missed it, here it is! The other amazing thing about this Symposium was that, unlike all other sessions, it wasn’t only open to people who had registered for ATTD. It was live streamed across #dedoc° socials and is available now for anyone to watch on demand. So, watch now! It was such an honour to be asked to moderate this session and to be able to present the three incredibly speakers from the diabetes community. Right where they – where we – belong.
DISCLOSURE
My flights and accommodation have been covered by #dedoc°, where I have been an advisor for a number of years, and am now working with them as Head of Advocacy.
Thanks to ATTD for providing me with a press pass to attend the conference.
I probably should stop thinking of my job as ‘my new job’. I’ve been at Diabetes Australia now for well over five years. But for some reason, I still think of it that way. And so do a lot of other people who often will ask ‘How’s the new job?’
Well, the new job is great, and I’ve enjoyed the last five years immensely. It’s a very different role to the one I had previously, even though both have been in diabetes organisations.
One thing that is very different is that in my (not) new job I don’t have the day-to-day contact with people with diabetes that I used to have. That’s not to say that I am removed from the lived experience – in fact, in a lot of ways I’m probably more connected now simply because I speak to a far more diverse group of people affected by diabetes. But in my last job, I would often really get to know people because I’d see them at the events my team was running, year in, year out.
Today, I got a call from one of those people. (I have their permission to tell this story now.) They found my contact details through the organisation and gave me a call because they needed a chat. After a long time with diabetes (longer than the 23 years I’ve had diabetes as an annoying companion), they have recently been diagnosed with a diabetes-related complication. The specific complication is irrelevant to this post.
They’ve been struggling with this diagnosis because along with it came a whole lot more. They told me about the stigma they were feeling, to begin with primarily from themselves. ‘Renza,’ they said to me. ‘I feel like a failure. I’ve always been led to believe that diabetes complications happen when we fail our diabetes management. I know it’s not true, but it’s how I feel, and I’ve given myself a hard time because of it.’
That internalised stigma is B.I.G. I hear about it a lot. I’ve spent a long time learning to unpack it and try to not impact how I feel about myself and my diabetes.
The next bit was also all too common. ‘And my diabetes health professionals are disappointed in me. I know they are by the way they are now speaking to me.’
We chatted for a long time, and I suggested some things they might like to look at. I asked if they were still connected to the peer support group they’d once been an integral part of, but after moving suburbs, they’d lost contact with diabetes mates. I pointed out some online resources, and, knowing that they often are involved in online discussions, asked if they’d checked out the #TalkAboutComplications hashtag. They were not familiar with it, and I pointed out just how much information there was on there – especially from others living with diabetes and diabetes-related complications. ‘It’s not completely stigma free,’ I said. ‘But I think you’ll find that it is a really good way to connect with others who might just be able to offer some support.’
They said they’d have a look.
We chatted a bit more and I told them they could call me any time for a chat. I hope they do.
A couple of hours later, my phone beeped with a new text message. It was from this person. They’d read through dozens and dozens of tweets and clicked on links and had even sent a few messages to some people. ‘Why didn’t I know about this before?’, they asked me.
Our community is a treasure trove of support and information, and sometimes I think we forget just how valuable different things are. The #TalkAboutComplications ‘campaign’ was everywhere a couple of years ago, and I heard from so many people that it helped them greatly. I spoke about it – particularly the language aspect of it – in different settings around the world and wrote about it a lot.
While the hashtag may not get used all that much these days, everything is still there. I sent out a tweet today with it, just as a little reminder. All the support, the connections, the advice from people with diabetes is still available. I hope that people who need it today can find it and learn from it. And share it. That’s one of the things this community does well – shares the good stuff, and this is definitely some of the good stuff!
Want more?
Check out the hashtag on Twitter here.
You can watch a presentation from ATTD 2019 here.
Read this article from BMJ.











