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So, this is 2020? How are you going? I returned from overseas to a country literally burning and choked in smoke; a government that is refusing to accept that climate change is real; and a news organisation making up the narrative to suit themselves (arsonists are everywhere, apparently).
Bet you didn’t expect me to get so political before midday on a Monday!
Today is my first day back at work after three weeks of holidays in New York with my family. We spent the time basically relocating our Melbourne life to New York: finding a favourite café that served decent coffee, drinking great quantities of said coffee, wandering the streets, playing with (other people’s) dogs, warming up in bookstores and catching up with friends. It was the perfect way to farewell 2019 and welcome 2020.
As I have mentioned a million times before, I don’t do resolutions. You may not know this, but I live with diabetes, and that in itself gives me enough reasons to not reach goals and targets. I don’t need to add another list of things of which to fall short.
For the last three years, I’ve chosen a word that I’ve hoped would oversee and direct my way of thinking and acting for the year. As it turns out, that was a load of rubbish. Because each time, as I searched for the word that I wanted to guide me, the one I settled on went against the very grain of who I am.
The words were pause, focus and reset – and behind them was the idea that I would respond in ways that were really out of character; words that would silence or calm my natural responses.
But that’s not me. I walk towards things (usually at pace), I’m impulsive, I’m reactive. Sure, these may not necessarily be the best traits for a mindful, calm existence, and they can be exhausting, but welcome to my life: Hi, I’m Renza.
This year, I’m ditching the word idea, and using a phrase that better suits me, and that phrase is Stand Up.
We are living in a world that does not need people to be silent. Manners are all very important, but it is very possible to have manners and be polite, but still challenge things that we see as not right. We don’t need to be told how to think, how to feel, how to respond to something that upsets us. We don’t need to tone police ourselves – or others. We don’t need to accept what we are given.
And in the diabetes space, we don’t need people to be meek and mild. We need people who are disrupters and who speak their minds and who call out the bullshit. We definitely need to make sure that the voice of PWD is the loudest in the room, and that anyone who tries, even for a second on any platform, to tell us to pipe down is called out for it.
We do not need people to go quietly, and I am somewhat horrified that I did just that at the end of last year when I was feeling intimidated and vulnerable online. If I’m honest, I don’t recognise the person who switched her Twitter to private and wrote this thread to explain it to the people who were asking why.
Being angry is okay because there is a lot to get angry about in diabetes care. Not standing up means that we accept the situation for how it is. We can do it in a way that is nice and friendly, but sometimes it takes more than that. And that is okay.
I have never cared about being popular in the DOC or being considered one of the cool kids. I have never worried about follower numbers. I searched for this community because I needed support and I needed to feel part of something amongst people who were just life me. Other people with diabetes.
When I re-read my twitter thread from before Xmas, my heart broke NOT at what had happened; but at how I felt that the only way for me to stop feeling so unsafe was to turn away from the community – MY community. It was this tweet that set my tears running again:
I thought that if I had wandered into the DOC for the first time instead of the welcoming place it was, I saw PWD being challenged, I would have run away. THAT was what broke my heart – the very idea that I would not have discovered people like Kerri, Georgie, Cherise, Melissa, Mike, Dana, Grumps, David, Manny, Jeff, Mel, Frank, Alanna, Kelly, Ashleigh, Scott, Annie, Alecia, Bastian, Daniela and so, so many others. I don’t know how I would have navigated the murky waters of life with diabetes without those people: MY people for whom diabetes actually invades our DNA and the DNA of our loved ones. People there for the right reasons – not for the accolades, not for increasing follower counts. They are community-minded, open to opposing ideas and thoughts, and don’t consider themselves superheroes.
If I had have gone quietly, I would never have learnt from them; never had the support of people who understand; never had people like that at my back when I do stand up.
So, I don’t go quietly ever again. I stand up as I always have. I accept that doing that will send me into periods of advocacy burnout; I’ll deal with that when it happens, surrounded my friends and peers who get it.
So yes, this is 2020. I’m back. It’s really nice to see you here.
Each year, as we stop, look back and take stock, the reason that we are feeling so tired becomes apparent. This year is no different for me; my work travel calendar was the most intense it has ever been, with nine long haul trips, some for only a day or two. Combined with regular domestic travel, I can truly say that I have seen the inside of airports far too much. I stopped adding up the trips I did once I passed 100 walks down airbridges to board planes because it was making me weepy.
But on top of the usual exhaustion this year, there seems to be an extra element of fatigue that goes beyond what I’ve experienced before.
But first, let’s talk highlights, because there have been many of them.
The year kicked off with Spare A Rose and whoa, did we start the year with a bang! With the true philosophy of SaR at the forefront (an initiative for the community, by the community), we not only reached our rather audacious target, we smashed it! A cheeky and opportunistic little extra push saw a smiling Grumpy Pumper unleashed to the whole world for just a moment The DOC didn’t break, but the final tally of for the campaign meant that 939 kids in under-resourced countries would be receiving insulin for a year. Amazing!
My favourite issue, #LanguageMatters, only went from strength to strength, and the publication of this piece in BMJ, followed by this podcast, was a brilliant way to get it outside of the diabetes echo chamber. The importance of language featured on the programs of major conferences such as ADA and #IDF2019 with stellar panels speaking about why it really does matter.
My diabetes turned 21 and tied up in all the emotion of that, my pancreas’ performance review didn’t go all that well. Maybe next year? (Unlikely.)
Possibly the most exciting, heart-warming, rewarding and humbling thing I did this year was co-facilitate a workshop in Manila with some of the most dynamic, compassionate and enthusiastic young diabetes advocates I have ever met. I’m thrilled have had a chance to catch up with a couple of the people from this meeting and can see the wonderful work they are doing in more than trying circumstances.
Peer support was never far away. One of my favourite digital campaigns came from Diabetes Australia (remember – I work there so consider my bias) with our The Lowdown campaign. What a brilliant way to showcase how a digital campaign can reach and connect people from all over the world, and encourage them to safely speak about a topic that doesn’t seem to get anywhere enough coverage. I spoke about the campaign’s success in a number of places this year.
My own personal peer support experiences happened all around the globe at conferences, advisory board meetings and other opportunities to see friends and colleagues with diabetes. These moments ground me and help me make sense of what I am seeing and hearing, and are critical for keeping me balanced.
A special shout out to these two peers and dear, dear friends: Bastian and Grumps. We saw each other an inordinate number of times this year, literally all over the globe, travelling on planes, trains and automobiles for our #DiabetesOnTour. I do think we should launch a calendar of the 2020 pics. (Admittedly, we may be the only ones remotely interested in that idea.) When I talk about my diabetes tribe, it’s friends like these two. We’ve celebrated through some pretty amazing things this year, stood up to elevate the lived experience over and over, and also counselled each other through the tough bits. We’ve held post-mortems of long days, sitting in hotel foyers and bars, trying to make sense of what has happened, working out how to always improve, and plotting and planning more and more and more. I am so grateful to them for being the scaffolding holding me up when I’m away from home and feeling overwhelmed.
So, now the reason for that elevated exhaustion…
When I first wrote about advocacy burnout back in January this year, I had no idea at the time that it would set the scene for a difficult and sometimes troubling theme for the year. I get tired and overcome at times throughout the year, but 2019 was different and I’m not really sure why.
There were moments this year where I did honestly wonder how much more energy I have to stand up over and over again to a lot of what I was seeing. I don’t like using war and battle analogies in diabetes, but I did feel that I was fighting a lot of the time. Diabetes advocacy is a tough gig to begin with. Adding burnout on top of it makes it seem shattering.
Being attacked by HCPs for daring to voice my thoughts and challenge their behaviour, or getting it from certain, more confrontational parts of the diabetes community, or having industry reps tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about for daring to suggest that maybe their lame attempts to simulate diabetes in gameshow-style gimmicks at conferences could be better directed at actually engaging and listening to PWD all added up.
Or perhaps it was the repeated examples of ‘diabetes for laughs’…and realising that we are a long way away from HCPs truly being allies in our daily encounters with stigma.
Or perhaps it was feeling that we needed to justify just how important the #LanguageMatters movement, and the decade of work we’ve done really is. I can’t even begin to tell you how upsetting this little incident was.
It added up and several times I’ve felt overcome. I feel like that today. Which is disappointing because on measure, the highlights, the positives and the amazing community should overshadow the negative encounters.
And that is why I’m taking a break from Diabetogenic. I need some time away from feeling as though I want to analyse what is going on and comment on it. I have a wonderful holiday planned with my gorgeous family where we will see friends and wander wintery streets, rugged up in pompom hats. And then, will warm up once back in Australia to finish recharging my seriously diminished batteries, ready for a new year that’s already shaping up to be so, so busy.
Until then, I hope you have a wonderful holiday season, celebrating however you see fit. Thanks for popping by. And I’ll see you in 2020, clapping my hands and raring to go!
On the first day of IDF, a star of the Diabetes Spotlight was Ella Adams. We wanted to hear about how children with diabetes are best supported, what works and what could be improved. In the past, we usually don’t hear directly from the young person themselves. But at the IDF Congress this year, the Living with Diabetes program team was committed to hearing the lived experience as much as possible. Ella’s dad, Jason, gave a brilliant overview of how he and his wife have supported Ella, but then he stepped aside and Ella told her own story. And she did it beautifully.
Ella shared stories about how best laid plans sometimes just go a little haywire. Admirably, she just gets on with things, dealing with her diabetes around whatever situation she is in. She is fiercely independent and is doing such a stellar job of working out she wants to do diabetes in a way that works for her. She has taken on more and more responsibility for her own diabetes, her parents stepping back as she has felt ready to step up.
We had two young people on the program in the Living with Diabetes stream this year and I am so proud that we stayed true to our wishes of handing the microphone as much as possible to people living with diabetes. We saw a different type of program and Ella was very much a part of that.
Jason filmed his daughter’s presentation and shared it on YouTube, and they have given me permission to share it here. So here’s Ella. What an absolute star!
DISCLOSURE
I was the Chair of the Living with Diabetes Stream at the IDF Congress in Busan. My flights to Busan were covered by Ascensia Global (in order for me to get to Busan in time to co-facilitate their Social Media Summit). Flights home and accommodation were covered by the IDF.
Who wants to get out of a warm hotel bed and wander through the freezing streets of Busan to the BEXCO conference centre on the last day of an exhausting conference to be ready for an 8.30am session on diabetes and sexual health?
As it turns out, a lot of people do (including a few people who may have been doing karaoke until just a few hours earlier).
The symposium was in three parts. I started by talking about the female perspective of diabetes, sex and sexual health, followed by Grumps (Chris Aldred) giving the male perspective. Brilliant physician and academic, Fauzia Moyeen, closed out the session by highlighting current research in this area of diabetes.
Introducing Fauzia Moyeen to the stage.
My session at the IDF Congress focused on the recurring themes I hear from women living with diabetes. These themes were evident in responses to the blog post I wrote a couple of weeks ago asking women to share their experiences, and reinforced the messages I’d received after previous posts I’d published about diabetes, women and sex.
As much as I had wanted to present a variety of different experiences, the messages I heard from women was not especially diverse! Women from countries considered more liberal and open to discussions about sex said exactly the same things as out sisters from countries where you would expect limited information about sex and sexual health.
Over and over and over again, women echoed that they had never spoken about this issue with a healthcare professional, and if they had raised it, they were told diabetes does not impact on sex.
Some of the quotes were absolutely heartbreaking. Women shared stories of how their relationships ended because sex had become so painful and uncomfortable after their diabetes diagnosis and they had not been able to get help. One woman was told ‘…get used to it because that’s how it is’, another was told the pain was not real.
The emotional impact of feeling that yet another part of our bodies is letting us down and not doing what it is meant to is never considered or discussed. We are left to flail around with these intense feelings and concerns. It’s not even a matter of being able to get help – we don’t have anyone signal to us that this could be an issue.
Then there is the mess of adding hypos, or fear of hypos into sexual activity, or trying to be intimate when we’re hyper and our bodies feel leaden and achy. There is so little that is sexy about diabetes, and that may be especially true when we are trying to be our sexiest!
And then there is the whole contemplation of how to introduce a new partner to devices stuck on bodies and scars on skin, and the worry about how that will make them see us.
Discussion after my talk was lively, with HCPs asking some great questions. One wanted to know how to bring up the topic, which is really important. Many people are not comfortable talking about sex and sexual health. Not everyone is happy to share when they are experiencing problems. Cultural considerations come into play here as well. Having a HCP of a different gender speaking about sex makes some people very uncomfortable. One HCP said that when he has raised the topic, he’s been told that it’s none of his business.
I had some suggestions about normalising discussions about sex, while remain sensitive to people with diabetes, allowing them to dictate if this is a topic for discussion.
I believe it is essential that the person with diabetes is the one who decides whether or not sex and sexual health are to be topics of discussion. Now that doesn’t mean HCPs don’t get to ask at all, leaving all responsibility to the PWD. They can provide prompts. Perhaps have some brochures in the waiting room that can be accessed by women. (Yes! There are such things and you can see them here.)
Also, list sexual health and sex as something that may be affected by diabetes in general diabetes discussions. Think about it as a complication of diabetes and address it as you would any other complication. Just mentioning it plants a seed for the PWD to understand that this may be something that needs attention.
I borrowed a suggestion I heard Sarah Le Brocq during her language and obesity talk at the DEEP Summit earlier this year. Sarah shared how one GP practise has a little form for people to fill in before they go to see the doctor. There are a list of different issues and the person can tick the topics they are comfortable having discussed in the appointment. (This, she said, is a brilliant idea for people living with obesity, because often that is the first and only thing the doctor wants to speak about, even if the reason for the appointment is a sore finger or something irrelevant to the person’s weight).
Translated for diabetes, develop a checklist with potential topics, with sex as one of them. If the box had been ticked, that would signpost to the HCP that this was a topic that the person with diabetes wanted to discuss.
Another question came from a doctor who asked how to make discussions about sex a priority when he needs to focus on diabetes-related complications. ‘If a person is dead from a heart attack, sex won’t matter,’he said.
The response from people with diabetes was the same. Consultations need to focus on the issues that matter to people with diabetes, not tick the box exercises so HCPs feel that they are getting in all the things theywant to speak about.
Yesterday, I wrote this in my post:
‘… sometimes the chasm between what people living with diabetes want and need and what HCPs and researchers think we want is gulf-like.’
I felt that keenly after my talk. Women had told me that relationships had ended because of how diabetes had impacted on their sex lives. Others said that the discomfort they felt having sex meant that they just didn’t want to, and it had become a constant source of tension between them and their partner. Other women felt that they were failing themselves and their current or potential partners. One woman said that she refused to have sex because she didn’t want anyone to see how diabetes had marked her body.
To me, these sound like issues that need to be addressed, as much as, if not more so, than trying to adjust basal rates. They are just as important as making sure someone is doing their foot checks. They are far more important than knowing a current A1c. Dismissing the importance of sex in a woman with diabetes’ life as less critical than other aspects of her diabetes care clearly is doing us no favours.
The feedback following the session was really positive and I hope that we start to see similar sessions on programs at other diabetes events. Let’s get the dialogue happening so that women can feel comfortable talking about diabetes and sex. And get the help we may need.
DISCLOSURE
I was the Chair of the Living with Diabetes Stream at the IDF Congress in Busan. My flights to Busan were covered by Ascensia Global (in order for me to get to Busan in time to co-facilitate their Social Media Summit). Flights home and accommodation were covered by the IDF.
Busan is a very different city today than it was last week. There won’t be warmly dressed people hurrying into BEXCO with IDF2019 lanyards around their necks, eager to learn about diabetes. The word ‘diabetes’ won’t be uttered in almost every language of the globe. There won’t be Melbourne diabetes people loudly lamenting that Starbucks seems to be the coffee of choice in the city.
And you won’t see groups of people from all around the world standing together talking about what it’s like to live with diabetes. Most of us have gone home to our respective corners of the world, back to our families, back to our jobs, back to our real lives. But we will always have Busan and the incredible week of the IDF Congress.
By the time I arrived in Busan on Monday, the IDF was already a different beast. There was a new President and Board in place and some of the concerns that we’d had about the handover had melted away to nothing. This paved the way for what we really there for: a week of learning, networking, hearing different perspectives and truly uniting for diabetes.
We did that.
Was it a perfect conference? Of course not; they never are. There were hiccoughs and AV fun. There were controversies that played out online very differently to the way they actually happened in real life. There were sessions – critically important and brilliant sessions from all streams– with disappointing turnouts.
But these are all minor concerns that are the reality of every conference I have ever attended. There will be a time for post-mortems and evaluations and planning for improvements to future conferences. That time, however, is not now. Now is the time to celebrate.
IDF 2019 was a brilliant showcase of diabetes from around the globe. As expected, I only attended sessions from the Living with Diabetes stream and every single story was beautifully presented, and enhanced by the professional expertise of the HCPs who shared the stage. Amongst the incredible tales were moments of discomfort. It’s challenging to hear of the struggles many of my sisters and brothers with diabetes face in their day to day lives. I was forced to confront my privilege in a way that demands more than just acknowledging it there.
Also, difficult to accept is realising that sometimes the chasm between what people living with diabetes want and need and what HCPs and researchers think we want is gulf-like. For every HCP who ‘gets us’ and understands the value of lived experience in the healthcare space dialogue, there are many others who just don’t accept it, and, despairingly, don’t want to listen.
But more on that another day. Because for now, I’m focused on the people who did such a stellar job. So here are just some of them!
Two hours after touching down in Busan, and we kicked off the sixth Ascensia Social Media Summit with these gems.
Bright and early on day 1 of IDF2019, and the auditorium was packed to hear about diabetes and tech.
Always, ALWAYS, pleased to share the stage with Jane. Here we are just before the panel session.
Georgie excited to TALK ABOUT HYPOS! (We couldn’t understand why there was an explanation mark at the end of that sentence.)
Manny Hernandez gave the LWD Stream Award Lecture and there is no one more qualified to talk about the importance of diabetes community. How honoured I was to introduce him!
Celebrating Manny! (Photo courtesy of Boudewijn Bertsch)
From Melbourne to Busan. Neighbours at IDF2019. Jo was speaking about living with a rare type of diabetes and Andy was there for support (and photos from rooftops).
This woman! Sana, deputy lead of the LWD Stream and a bright, fierce force.
Anita eloquently explaining the challenges of living with diabetes-related complications in Indonesia.
Apoorva highlighting #LanguageMatters in her talk.
Some of the most dynamic young people I have ever met at the Young Leaders in Diabetes Training Summit.
Cherise can always be relied upon to ask thoughtful questions.
I’ve lost count of the cities we’ve done our #DiabetesOnTour this year, but these blokes have made all my travel so much better! Thanks Bastian and Grumps.
My favourite people at IDF2019? The two baristas running this uber-hipster coffee van.
We were all surprised to see the room packed full at 8.30am on the last day of the Congress. Sex sells. Or people just want to talk about it…
One of the best pieces of advice I was ever give was this: surround yourself with smart women. This is the LWD stream from IDF2019. I truly was surrounded by the smartest of women! Thank you Sana, Pei Yan and Elizabeth.
The final session in the LWD and my highlight of the whole congress was my neighbour, Sol, talking about living with MODY 3. We could not have scripted a closing remark better than his: ‘Being at this conference has made me feel part of something and with people that understand.’ Welcome to the world of diabetes peer support, Sol. You are so, so very welcome here.
DISCLOSURE
I was the Chair of the Living with Diabetes Stream at the IDF Congress in Busan. My flights to Busan were covered by Ascensia Global (in order for me to get to Busan in time to co-facilitate their Social Media Summit). Flights home and accommodation were covered by the IDF.
Shortbread with Smarties. (Time lapse at end of post.)
Every Sunday, I spend an hour or so doing one of my favourite things. I bake cookies, cakes, brownies or anything else that takes my fancy. I make a time lapse video of it and then share it to my Instagram and Facebook, along with some photos of the delicious finished product and the hashtag #AndOnSundaysWeBake. My friends and family frequently comment on my creations. Some ask for recipes; some ask if they can have some delivered to them; some are perplexed as to why I feel the need to add veggies to my cakes. (The answer is THIS ZUCCHINI BREAD RECIPE!!!!)
The other day, someone who had just started following me on Instagram asked me if these baked goods are my guilty pleasure.
‘Of course not,’ I said to them shaking my head. ‘Why should I feel guilty?’
‘Because they have sugar in them. And butter. Lots of carbs and fat. And you have diabetes. I thought you would steer clear of those kinds of foods.’
I sighed and thought that I could explain how as long as I cover the carbs with insulin, I am dealing with the diabetes side of things. And how I try to eat a balanced diet which mostly is made up of freshly cooked meals containing protein, in season vegetables and some carbs. I thought I could point to how I generally follow a low-ish carb diet because that works for me, and that my weekend (and week day too at times!) baking is a fabulous way for me to de-stress, and feel creative. I was going to point to how there is no such thing as a ‘diabetic diet’ and that people with diabetes can eat whatever we want and that it’s kinda not okay to ask us about what we are eating because it’s none of anyone else’s business. I started to tally up what I’d eaten for the day to highlight just how healthful my day’s food had been (so far) and was going to explain how I would be eating sashimi for lunch, and that has no carbs.
But instead, I just said ‘I don’t do guilty when it comes to food. And I try really hard not to do guilty when it comes to diabetes. Suggesting that we should feel guilty or shame when we eat something delicious that we enjoy – whether or not we’ve made it ourselves – just feeds into bullshit diet culture. My moral value has nothing to do with what I put in my mouth, or restricting food groups, or my weight.
‘So, to answer your question: No. What I bake on Sundays is not my guilty pleasure. But I do take great pleasure in baking and sharing the spoils with friends and family. And eating them. Because I am an amazing baker, and they taste absolutely delicious. Pleasure? You bet. Guilty? No fucking way!’
More?
My go to ‘smash diet culture’ SoMe sites are BodyPosiBetes and Feel Good Eating. Follow them for no-nonsense, no bullshit, no-diet-culture brilliance.
Happy World Diabetes Day to you all. This year, the IDF is building on last year’s theme about diabetes and the family.
I wrote this last year, which explained how my diabetes family extends beyond my immediate family. It includes my friends living with diabetes – the diabetes tribe that I found and love so hard. I know that without them, there is no way that I would be living the diabetes life I have now. This tribe of PWD is spread across the globe, but is literally at my fingertips anytime I need them. A day does not go by when we are not messaging about the saucy goings on in the diabetes world.
Tribe
Everyone’s diabetes family looks different. While for some it is their partner, kids, parents and extended family, for others it may include their friends, healthcare team, local diabetes organisation or next-door neighbour. You do you when finding your tribe! Here’s a collage of just some of the tribe I’ve been lucky enough to see this year.
The greatest thing my own tiny little family unit – Aaron and the kidlet – have done for me with my diabetes is to let me do it my way. Aaron was there the moment I was diagnosed, and not once in the last twenty-one years has he tried to make diabetes about him. He will never know how grateful I am for that. Those middle of the night hypos where he was awake alongside me, toasting bread or pouring juice, or the hospital visits or the days interrupted by misbehaving glucose levels were done with not a single mention of how he has been impacted by my diabetes. I never heard him say how exhausted he was the morning after a particularly wakeful night, or how my diabetes has affected him.
But perhaps the greatest support that my family has given me is never making me feel limited by diabetes. Building independence when living with a chronic health condition isn’t only something that is relevant to children and adolescence. Last night, I slept alone in a hotel room and didn’t for a moment feel fear because of my diabetes. I travel the world alone for work – jump on long haul flights, spend twenty-hour days at conferences and day-long meetings – and I do that with complete and utter confidence that I can manage my diabetes alone.
I hear others with diabetes say that their loved ones are worried and fearful when they are away from them, and that in turn makes them feel nervous. I hear of struggles of how to share CGM data constructively and how much others get to be involved in the PWD’s diabetes life. It’s a delicate dance we do here, and Aaron and the kidlet have always been led by what I need. And what I need is not to feel fragile or as though I could break at any moment if they are not there.
I love that they don’t limit me in any way because of my diabetes. And I love that they trust me enough to know that I will reach out when I need to, and that when they ask and ask and ask, all that does is make me feel like a burden. And I love that they never, ever make diabetes about them.
So, they’re the stories that I’m looking for today – the stories of people with diabetes, showing how they have been supported to do their very best. And at the same time, I’m sending a thank you out to these two for supporting me in exactly the way I need.
My people
Something flashed across one of my social media feeds the other day, and, had I been in a Looney Tunes cartoon, smoke would have come from my fingers as I screeched to a holt, scrolling back until I found it.
It said this:
Now, I generally hate stupid memes and inspirational quotes. In fact, if it’s not coming from Effin’ Birds, I rarely even pause to read the words.
But this one has had me thinking for a few days, because just a couple of weeks ago, someone on Twitter commented that my tweets were filled with angry emotion and that I should try to fix that. Now, three things: 1. This guy was an anti-vaxxer so he can go get fucked; 2. I wasangry because as well as saying that vaccines are unsafe (lie number 1), he was also claiming that type 1 diabetes doesn’t exist (lie number 2); and 3. I do not take well to being tone policed.
I do come across at times as being angry. But actually, a lot of times there is something more behind my anger. A lot more behind it.
When people see anger, it is the manifestation of 21 years of living with diabetes and 18 years of working in diabetes, and the experiences that have cut to the bone. For me personally, there have been such hurtful and damaging times where the result was for me to head so far underground with my diabetes that I thought I would never recover enough to dare to seek help again. I have heard those experiences mirrored in others’ stories, which we share to gather support and strength from each other. Sometimes, when we speak of our stories, the emotion that comes out appears to be anger. But often, it is actually grief.
When I see HCPs behaving badly online, I think about the times that this happened directly to me and how I felt in the moment, and in the hours and days afterwards. I think about how long it took for me to accept diabetes because it was introduced to me under veils of threats of the horrors I had ahead of me if I dared stray from the demands being placed on me.
All tied up amongst the angry confidence you see is a mess of other emotions, and when I stop and look, which I don’t really like to do, it is undeniable that grief is ever present. I grieve the life I had before diabetes, because even though it was over 21 years ago, I can still remember it. I remember the freedom and spontaneity that came with simply not having to think about glucose levels, carb counts and all the other things that diabetes requires. I grieve the times I didn’t need to think about my mortality. At almost 46, it’s one thing to think about getting older and dying. At twenty-four it was a mind-fuck I didn’t know how to manage.
I grieve the impact diabetes has had on my fertility, which is intrinsically connected to the grief of miscarriages. The anger that I feel about those experiences is especially strong here, but so is the grief, and to be honest, I’m not sure where one stops and the other one starts.
I feel grief for how diabetes has clouded the way my kid has grown up. A mum with diabetes may be the only mum she knows, but she has been forced to understand that sometimes she comes second to diabetes. That grief is tied up with sadness, as well as anger for robbing her of not needing to know what it’s like living alongside diabetes.
Grief is heavy. It weighs me down and has the ability to engulf me in darkness. I feel guilty when it overtakes me, because, didn’t you know, we’re meant to be superheroes. Positive, enthusiastic, shiny superheroes. People with diabetes are football legends, movie stars, marathon runners and we’re not meant to allow it to limit or overwhelm us. I feel guilty for feeling this way when my diabetes life is comparatively easy – access (to care, technology medications), affordability, health literacy are all challenges I don’t have. And yet, I still grieve that it is part of my life.
If I, or other people with diabetes, appear angry, we probably have reason to. But please consider what is behind that anger. I have learnt to sit with my anger comfortably and painfully in equal measure. And I have also come to understand it is rarely there alone.
Next month, I’m rounding out what has been a really busy year of conferences at the IDF World Diabetes Congress. One of the talks I’m giving is on the experiences of women with diabetes when it comes to sex. (*I was going to call this post ‘Sex on stage’, but then wisely thought better of it.)
The symposium will include a session about men with diabetes and their experiences, and a talk given by a healthcare professional highlighting some research in the area. (Spoiler alert: there is not much research when it comes to women, sex and diabetes.)
For my talk, I want to not only draw on my own experiences, but also bring together what I’ve heard from other women living with diabetes. Whenever I’ve written here about this issue, (including here and here and here) I’ve received lots and lots of private messages as well as some post comments – women want to talk about it!
The main themes that seem to resonate time and time again are:
- There is very limited education and information when it comes to women with diabetes and sex, sexual function and sexual health
- Many (most?) women with diabetes have never had a HCP talk to them, or ask them questions about their sexual health – other than contraception and the importance of planning for pregnancy
- Many (most?) women believe that diabetes does impact on their sexual function, and those diagnosed after they were already sexually active report that diabetes absolutely does impact on sex
- Lots of women say that the visibility of diabetes (devices on bodies, scarring etc) makes them feel self-conscious and impacts how they feel about themselves and about sex.
I know that when I spend time with my good women friends with diabetes, talk about sex and how we feel about it, and our bodies, comes up. It used to take a couple of glasses of wine to get us comfortable enough to start the conversation, but these days, we launch straight in. Are we all chronic over-sharers, or are we just desperate to connect with others who get it and might have some tips and tricks to share? I think it’s the latter…although I think sometimes the former, too!
So, now is where you come in! If you are a woman living with diabetes (ANY type and duration of diabetes, any age), I would love to hear your experiences, including about discussions you’ve had with your HCP team about this issue. I’m also interested in any advice or information women have found useful. And if you are one of the women who has never had a conversation about it, or been told that diabetes does not impact on women’s sexual function, I want to hear from you too. Oh, and if you have any great resources, articles, blog posts or anything else you’d like women to know about, please share in the comments section.
You can comment on this post and use a pseudonym if you’d prefer to remain anonymous, or send me a private message here. If you could include your age and how long you’ve had diabetes, that would be great. I will be using quotes in my talk, but no names will be shared (unless you would like me to).
I was really pleased to see that this was a topic suggestion by a few people for the Living with Diabetes stream at the IDF Congress, because I truly believe we need to talk about diabetes and sex a whole lot more. It shouldn’t be a taboo subject, or one that people are embarrassed to discuss. And women need to be taken seriously when we say that diabetes does impact our sex lives.
Please help out – the more voices, the merrier. And I’ll do what I can to have the session live streamed so that we can continue the discussion beyond what happens in the Congress conference centre.
DISCLOSURE
I am the Chair of the Living with Diabetes Stream at the International Diabetes Federation’s World Diabetes Congress which will be held in Busan in December 2019. My flights and accommodation, and conference registration have been paid for by the IDF. I am not receiving any payment to speak at the conference, or for my role as stream Chair.
Happy Diabetes Awareness Month! We don’t really celebrate it in Australia, reserving our energies and efforts and enthusiasm for World Diabetes Day. I always thought it was a US thing (where it’s called National Diabetes Awareness month or #NDAM), but it seems that more and more countries around the world are celebrating, and who am I to not jump on a bandwagon? Plus, as I write this, I’m in a café in SoHo New York, so joining the NDAM party makes perfect sense to me!
The concept of awareness raising of health conditions is a really interesting one and has puzzled me a little for some time. Plus, it can be fraught with a lot of potential landmines. When it comes to the huge issue of diabetes, we get into criticisms of awareness initiatives being too niche and ‘exclusive’ (such as this one and this one) or too broad.
In my role at Diabetes Australia, we do awareness raising all the time. Our main efforts are around National Diabetes week, and perhaps the campaign of which I’m most proud is the three-year drive highlighting the importance of diagnosing diabetes early for both T1 and T2 diabetes. I like that our campaigns have calls to action – they’re not airy-fairy ‘tell the world about how hard my life is with diabetes’, but campaigns that have meat on their bones, with a strong ‘why’ behind them.
Why do I think that is important? Because I honestly don’t think that there is appetite from people outside the diabetes world to truly understand the intricacies of day-to-day diabetes. I don’t have a clue what the day of a person living with a chronic condition such as MS or Parkinson’s is like. And I don’t think it is all that necessary for people not living with diabetes to understand what it feels like when my glucose levels are 25mmol/l.
With the month all of a few hours old, social media pages are already awash in blue. The enthusiasm on day one is a powerful force. But I wonder how far outside the diabetes echo chamber that force extends. Are we reaching people who don’t know anything about diabetes? And will it compel them to find out more? Or do they scroll by and not even really clock what they have seen, because perhaps the topic is not really all that relevant?
I am sure that this blog is primarily read by people who are in some way connected to diabetes, and I would expect more skewed towards people affected by type 1 diabetes. I guess that makes sense – when I read diabetes blogs, I want to hear and read about people whose experiences mirror my own.
I would never, ever regard what I am doing as awareness raising. I’m telling my story to people whose awareness of diabetes is already incredibly heightened.
So, it surprises me when events, activities and campaigns generally consumed by people already affected by diabetes are seen as awareness raising. How aware do we need to be? If you’re at an event where the people on stage are all people with diabetes telling their life story, I think you can be pretty sure that most, if not all, of the people in the audience with you either also have diabetes, have a loved one with diabetes or are a healthcare professional working in diabetes.
Diabetes tweetchat contributors are always people affected by diabetes; webinar viewers are too. Sure, participants may learn something new, but has the cause of diabetes been elevated to new people?
I am all for events and activities that celebrate people with diabetes and give us a platform to share our stories. But I think we have to be sensible when we think of what they are actually achieving. I listen to diabetes podcasts and read diabetes blogs. I see all of this as a form of peer support – a way to connect with my tribe. It makes sense to me to use the limited time and mental bandwidth I have to enhance my own diabetes.
I think that awareness raising initiatives – whether it be awareness months or weeks or days, or smaller events – usually serve the community that they are speaking about. There is nothing wrong with that. In fact, there are huge benefits. Learning from others as they offer up wisdom of their tips and tricks for navigating the difficult, mundane or even amusing aspects of diabetes is brilliant. It can be validating (‘Oh, I’m not the only one who does <enter non-compliant behaviour>’) and it can help us remember that we don’t walk this diabetes path alone.
This is how I have come to see these sorts of social-based activities. Awareness raising – to those unaware of diabetes? Maybe not. But I still believe that any opportunity to hear the voice of people living with diabetes is a good one. And any change to connect with our tribe, to feel like something bigger than our own diabetes world, is great.
So, this November, as my socials continued to be flooded in blue, I’ll be thinking of it as diabetes connections month and am looking forward to seeing how my diabetes tribe around the globe is talking about their own diabetes. We’re already diabetes aware enough!
More than happy just raising a cup of coffee!
Diabetogenic 