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Today, just as always on 14 February, my favourite vases are empty. It’s not that we forgot Valentine’s Day. It’s because in our house, it’s Spare a Rose Day.
The annual Spare a Rose, Save a Life campaign is about turning love (or lust, or ‘I kinda like you’) in action. Instead of giving flowers, we donate to the campaign that was founded in diabetes community advocacy to provide support to people diagnosed with diabetes in under-resourced settings. The equation has remained the same since the campaign started over ten years ago: for each rose we forgo, insulin is supplied for a month to a person with diabetes. $5 for one month. $60 for a whole year.
All donations are made directly to Insulin for Life , an organisation doing vital, lifesaving work across the globe. Every cent counts and goes towards saving the lives of people with diabetes.
It’s a really easy choice for us. Because no one chooses to live with diabetes. And no one chooses to live in a place where a diabetes diagnosis is a death sentence.
Since 2013, our remarkable diabetes community has measured love not by the roses we send, but rather by the ones we don’t. A single rose might fade in a few days, but the impact of sparing one, and making a small donation can be life saving.
If you can, please Spare a Rose today. Just $5 can save a life.
Just what is the emotional labour associated with living with a life-long health condition like diabetes? I’ve been thinking about it a lot this week, firstly because I was asked to give a talk about it to a group of researchers to help them understand barriers they may experience with getting participants into their research. It was a great discussion, with plenty of questions and hopefully a new understanding of the burden diabetes unleashes on us. And then, I thought about it when I was feeling the weight of that burden – more so than usual.
The emotional labour of living with diabetes is a complex, often invisible force, shaping our lived experience in profound ways. It’s the mental and emotional effort we put into the never-ending demands of the condition. It’s accompanied by an inner dialogue that asks if we’re doing enough, trying enough, feeling enough, being enough. It comes on top of the physical labour of doing diabetes, which in itself, is significant. It’s an ever-accruing emotional toll of being perpetually alert, constant decision making and wondering how those decisions might impact our immediate and long-term health and wellbeing. The emotional resilience required to do diabetes each day is an additional burden of itself, the sum of all these parts equalling an unforgiving weight that, at times, just feels too damn heavy to carry anymore.
But it doesn’t end there. Living with diabetes is an act of advocacy in itself, even if that advocacy is for ourselves alone and whether we use the word or not. Some people who take on advocacy issues and causes, leading efforts, participating in them, speaking about them. Whether involved in advocacy as a paid day job, consulting-type role, voluntarily, or a hybrid version (me), all of it adds to the emotional labour of diabetes.
Of course advocacy can be energising – striving for better healthcare, pushing for more understanding, and campaigning for supportive policies are endeavours close to our hearts and seeing efforts result in stunning outcomes bolster our energy levels. Working together with others with diabetes to change our communities is motivating. But it can also be exhausting. Each act of advocacy draws from our already limited reserves. The constant need to explain, to justify, to fight for our rights and needs can lead to burnout, leaving us feeling drained and disheartened in a fight that seems unending.
That’s where I spent a lot of this week: drained, disheartened, devastated and frequently teary with the weight of advocacy casting a long, dark shadow.
I know that this is something people with diabetes speak about, and the mental health of diabetes is finally on agendas, but it still needs to be said that being adjacent to diabetes, or being a champion for mental healthcare doesn’t offer a true understanding of just what it feels like. The best allies I know are the ones who recognise this gap in understanding and do all they can to ensure they don’t add to it and try to learn by stepping back and not overshadowing our voices or efforts.
One of the ways people with diabetes have attempted to deal with this labour and resulting burnout is to build peer communities and networks. Solace from the weight of diabetes can be found in others with shared experiences in sanctuaries where our struggles don’t need to be explained but they are deeply understood. These are safe spaces where we exchange stories, share tips, and buoy each other’s spirits. These communities become a wellspring of support and encouragement, where our emotional labour is shared, and our advocacy efforts are collectively bolstered. Safeguarding those spaces is essential if we’re to draw strength from them rather than find ourselves being overwhelmed by them.
In recent years, I’ve found myself becoming more and more selective about where I find that support. Twitter was probably the first to be left behind as I no longer found it a safe space. I’m reminded of that any time I venture back an innocent tweet about my own diabetes choices is attacked from some low carb bro. I replaced the openness of social platforms with closed group chats of others with diabetes, knowing that the support was there without the risk of trolling. Those chats provide the light to guide my way through the shadows.
This week, with the heaviness of all that is diabetes weighing me down, it has been difficult to find that light. The networks I have are always there, but even that is sometimes not enough when everything is overwhelming. Hosting this week’s #docday°, and hearing from advocates from around the world doing incredible things wasn’t enough to help me see clear. I thought of how to push through this, and I don’t have an answer. Except this: One of the things we do so well in our community is lift each other up because our community and other people with diabetes are everything. And so, even while I am feeling weighted down, I can focus on that. And hope that in amplifying and cheerleading my peers with diabetes and their efforts, I’ll rise too.
Two community things you should know about…
Spare A Rose, Save a Life is continuing to accept donations here. Thanks to amazing advocate Tinotenda for driving this year’s campaign.
Sign and share this petition and read the consensus statement initiated by a group of #dedoc° voices which is calling for uninterrupted insulin access in humanitarian crises. Congrats to Lucia for coordinating this work.
I had a BIG birthday this week. It was lovely – spoilt by my gorgeous family and friends, a beautiful dinner, calls and messages and special deliveries from friends in far flung places. BIG birthdays are weird. There seems to be an expectation that we have BIG feelings about them. Some people have BIG negative feelings about them. Some people freak out. Some go through a crisis and suddenly feel as though they are facing their mortality. I haven’t felt any of those things, but people have been asking. And I’ve been at a bit of a loss as to how to respond.
I don’t feel bad about getting older. I like that the cliché about women giving fewer fucks about others’ opinions as they age has been true for me. I like that I’ve become more confident, and with that developed the ability to recognise a bout of imposter syndrome and swiftly dismiss it, knowing I’ve absolutely earned the seat at whichever table I am sitting. I like that I easily stare down and call out misogyny and have become better at identifying the misogynists who cloak their misogyny in faux allyship. I like that I have a group of strong, sassy, spectacular women around me and that we build each other up and celebrate each others’ triumphs. I like the respect my work receives, and I especially like that I now walk away from situations where that respect isn’t afforded.
The only one BIG feeling I have had is that ageing is such a privilege. I’ve felt that keenly this week as I’ve celebrated this BIG birthday. I’ve thought of friends who didn’t get to celebrate this BIG birthday for all sorts of devastating reasons, and of friends who have had some pretty serious medical emergencies of late. I flashed back to my darling sister being so, so unwell last year, noting that when it’s time for her next BIG birthday there will be fireworks to celebrate that she is with us. And I’ve thought about how if I’d been diagnosed with diabetes a few decades earlier, I may not be celebrating this week.
Diabetes has been a constant and unwelcome companion for over half my life now. I do have BIG feelings about that, none of them good. It entered my life and reshaped it in ways that I couldn’t have imagined, and even though my work – work that I love – is impossibly intertwined with my diabetes, I feel cheated that so much of my brainpower, my energy, my finances and mostly, my time has been sucked away by diabetes. I’ve never bought into the toxic positivity of diabetes superherodom, and flat out refuse to credit diabetes for the discipline and resilience I’ve been forced to adopt just to manage living. I get credit for that.
And I’ve thought this: Ageing is a privilege, but ageing with diabetes feels like a miracle, and believing that brings into sharp focus my diabetes brothers and sisters who might not get to celebrate BIG birthdays due to completely missed diagnoses, inadequate healthcare, or lack of access to drugs and technology. Over the last few years, we’ve heard more from our vast community about those experience and we need to hear more, and do more to help. And so, if I can be opportunistic on the occasion of my BIG birthday, an appeal to anyone reading. If you can, please make a donation to either Life for a Child or Insulin for Life; two charities doing so much to increase the chances of more BIG birthdays for people with diabetes in under-resourced countries. That seems like the best celebration possible.
Like clockwork, the beginning of February heralded a sea of red in every retail store, with cutesy cupid motives and love hearts adorning shop windows. Valentine’s Day was the next big merchandising opportunity and, friends, it’s time to buy up.
At the same time, the diabetes community also starts to be sprinkled with red – this time red roses. Because once again, it’s time for Spare a Rose, Save a Life. It’s the complete opposite of consumer culture. And it’s something that is very close to my heart.
This year marks ten years since Spare a Rose was first launched by a group of diabetes advocates from the US. The story has been told many times but it’s worth repeating, because it says a lot about this community. These advocates wanted to do something that supported others living with diabetes, specifically those in under-resourced counties. And so, Spare a Rose, Save a Child (now Spare a Rose, Save a Life) was created, with a vision to bring together the diabetes community, uniting in the collaborative goal of supporting those who need it.
The simple equation of ‘sparing’ one rose and donating the $5 saving to a diabetes charity was tangible. That face dollars provides insulin for a month. That’s how it has worked for ten years now. Close to one million dollars has been raised in that time, which is truly remarkable when you think about it. It’s people in the community reaching into our pockets to help make a change.
This year, donations are once again going directly to Insulin for Life, a charity that continues to support people with diabetes in countries where there is most need. Insulin for Life has been running for many years and their work is significant. Last year, as war broke out in Ukraine, the charity was able to rally their networks within days, getting critical diabetes supplies where they were most needed. That support continues, and a big part of that is due to the generosity of the diabetes community getting behind Spare a Rose for Ukraine.
As soon as the war started, the diabetes community were desperately looking at how to help and almost immediately, people dug deep. With $400,000 raised in months, so many in the community showed just how committed we are to focusing on others. That’s the diabetes community I know and love!
And so, this year – the tenth anniversary of Spare a Rose – we’re asking again for people to dig deep and help if they can. Leave egos at the door and do the simple thing of supporting community efforts by sharing links, encouraging others to learn about Spare a Rose and, where possible, donate. The only people who benefit from this campaign are people with diabetes who need it. By the community, for the community. Truly the best way to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
Here’s your Spare a Rose, Save a Life refresher for how it works. It’s super easy, and if you click on the image, it will take you directly to the donation page. (Donations are made directly to Insulin for Life.)
Postscript and disclaimer
I have been a community volunteer for the Spare a Rose campaign for a number of years, involved in promotion and communications. I’ve taken a step back this year (for a bucketload of reasons, including this), but am no less involved behind the scenes. I have just started a new job and much of the focus is supporting people with diabetes in low to middle income countries which means I’ll be supporting efforts of many different diabetes charities, including Insulin for Life and Life for a Child (previous charity partner of Spare a Rose), A4D, CDIC and others, as well as the brilliant community groups lead by advocates on the ground.
As if to prove the point of yesterday’s post, I’ve received dozens of lovely messages from people about how supportive they’ve found others with diabetes, and how building each other up is a cornerstone of the work they are involved in.
And as someone said to me today when I told them how many people had reached out: ‘I’m not surprised …’
Neither am I. That community support is on show everywhere you look right now. And no more so than with community efforts to support our diabetes brothers and sisters affected by the war in Ukraine.
#SpareaRose for Ukraine has now been running for about two and a half weeks. Over $115,000 has been raised in community donations, plus another $80,000 or so in corporate matching. Just a reminder: this is a community initiative. There are four people doing a few things behind the scenes, but really, it’s the community that drives this campaign each and every year – BY the community, FOR the community.
The Dedoc voices community, a group of people with diabetes, has been instrumental in sharing details of #SpareARose for Ukraine once it had been launched. They have also been sharing other extraordinary efforts they’ve been involved in, and here are just some of them.
Meet: Dawn
Dedoc voice from Northern Ireland, and diabetes advocate extraordinaire, Dawn has been working with a group of people in NI, collecting support and supplies from the community to be packaged up and sent on to people with diabetes affected by the war.
We have been given disposable and reusable pens, more than 5000 units of insulin in cartridges and vials, glucometers, test strips, glucagon, hypo treats, pen needles, pump supplies for Medtronic and AccuChek pumps, and lancets galore.
We’ve also had a donation of disposable pens from women with GDM who have had their babies. The support and generosity has been truly phenomenal. Two of us took the items we had to a diabuddy for collection by Ukrainian Doctors. These Doctors have also been given an ambulance to take into Poland and were also guaranteed transport for supplies by RyanAir into Poland more details about the medical team can be found here
If you would like to help, there is a go fund me page which you can access by clicking here.
(I can only imagine the supply of lancets are for a joke?)
Meet: Weronika
You may know Weronika better as Blue Sugar Cube on Insta and Twitter and seen her gorgeous artwork. She is a dedoc voice and an advocate from Poland, living in Belgium.
Weronika shared with me what she has been doing in what can only be described as a community AND family effort!
Together with Polish Diabetes Association, I organized a collection of diabetes supplies in Belgium for Ukrainian PWD.
Of course, the diabetes community didn’t disappoint, and many people instantly wanted to help. It took only 5 days to fill two huge boxes of glucose meters, test strips, insulin pens and needles, insulin pump equipment, sensors, and hypo snacks!
My dear husband helped me sort and pack everything. We already sent the two boxes to Poland via a driver who was so noble to take them to Poland for free.
All diabetes articles will be delivered to the Headquarters of the Polish Diabetes Association in Warsaw (with the help of my in-laws) from where they will be distributed as needed.
Packages are still arriving, and we are organizing the next shipment soon…
Meet: Caro
Caro has been a dedoc voice at a number of conferences now, and is a terrific advocate for technology use for people with diabetes. Here is what she has been doing in Germany.
At our looper meet up with PWD from around the city of Cologne, we collected supplies for people in Ukraine. As we have a Russian member who has Ukrainian friends, the motivation to support was even bigger. These personal contacts and their reports about the situation in Ukraine make us sad and stunned.
Another member of our group had connections to an organisation from Düsseldorf – they get trucks to Ukraine (even equipped with a fridge and able to cool insulin and other medical equipment).
Third way we support the Ukraine was to send insulin to the country via the organisation ‘Insulin zum Leben’ (the German Insulin for Life affiliate) which we are supporting already for many years.
At this meet up we collected all stuff we knew that could be needed, sorted it, labelled and packed it. Insulin, test trips, cannulas, USB charger, Hypo snacks, dressing materials, painkiller etc. We all know, supporting via the official organisations is the best way to support – and we do that.
Meet: Ineska
As well as being involved in dedoc voices, Ineska from Croatia is an IDF YLD and part of the Type1EU community. Together with the Zagreb Diabetes Association she has alerted Croatian Red Cross, Ukraine embassy in Zagreb and pharmacies across Croatia to reach out of people from Ukraine who had come into Croatia, so they can be provided with help.
Ineska shared some examples of the help that’s been requested:
Firstly, we got a call from Croatian policeman who was going to pick some kids and mothers on a border of Ukraine. He told us that he got a request from the Red for diabetes equipment of any kind, but specially insulin. We collected supplies within 3 hours with our diabuddies!
Then yesterday we got a call from Croatian Red Cross that they have a girl with diabetes, and she needs pump materials.
Also, we got a call from pharmacy that someone from Ukraine is asking to buy diabetes equipment, also for pump, but they can’t give it to them, because they need to have a prescription.
So, at the end we got so many calls, and this is only in ‘small’ country of Croatia. We are so glad, that with this one step we could help so much.
There are others in the dedoc voices chat that are sharing their stories of community efforts they are involved in. Leon from Australia is providing frequent updates from Medicines Sans Frontieres and sharing relevant links to different aid groups. Others are asking for contacts in different countries to pass on urgent messages. As always, the group is coming together to support each other with the aim of helping others with diabetes who are facing impossible challenges right now.
In yesterday’s post, I wrote about the community supports and looks out for each other. Spare a Rose is a great example of that. For ten years, people from all corners of the diabetes community have made it their own. It’s not about supporting the volunteers behind the scenes. It’s about doing a huge thing and supporting others with diabetes. Together. Because that’s what a community does.
You can still apply for to join the #dedoc° voices program at the upcoming ATTD conference. But be quick as applications close on 20 March. Click on the image below to be taken to the application form.
Disclaimer
I am an advisor to the #dedoc° voices program. I do not receive any payment for this role.
Usually, as February comes to a close, there is a flurry of excitement in the diabetes online community as the final tally for the annual #SpareARose campaign is announced.
This year is different. With war breaking out in Ukraine, it didn’t make sense to end the campaign at the exact moment that many in the diabetes community were wondering how to help our brothers and sisters affected by the war.
And so, after a frantic 24 hours of emails, text messages, phone calls and people doing things, #SpareARose for Ukraine was launched.
It’s live. Right now. And you can be part of it.
The colours may have changed a little, but the campaign remains that same: a donation – not matter how big or small – will help people with diabetes living in challenging situations. All funds are donated directly to Insulin for Life, a charity that has years of experience working providing insulin and diabetes supplies to under-resourced countries and responding to emergencies. This is an emergency.
Insulin for Life will be earmarking funds donated in March for their efforts supporting people with diabetes affected by the war in Ukraine. They are part of an international consortium, with partners in Ukraine, and they have supplies ready to go if, when and where they are needed.
You can help by sharing details of how to donate to #SpareARose for Ukraine with your networks. Speak with your workplace to see if they will support the campaign by matching employee donations. You can connect with the campaign online (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram) and share what we’re posting. Remember to share outside as well as within the DOC to reach as big an audience as possible.
And, of you can, you can donate.
#SpareARose for Ukraine builds on what has always been a community campaign. It was started by diabetes advocates, it continues to be coordinated by diabetes advocates, all on a volunteer basis. It is underpinned by the philosophy ‘BY the community, FOR the community’. Please support any way you can.
Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since I last did one of these. The whole point of Interweb Jumble posts on Diabetogenic is to highlight anything that has caught my interest in the online diabetes world, write about initiatives I’ve been involved in, and, most importantly, to elevate the great work being done by others living with diabetes. Building folks up and promoting their amazing efforts has been at the heart of what I do, so I’m always happy to share what others are doing.
Grab a coffee, tea or shandy, (Don’t. Don’t grab a shandy), and read on.
Diabetes Chat
YES!! There is a new place to congregate online, in a different format, and with this one, you get to hear people’s voices. (Sorry to everyone who had to endure my 7am Aussie accent last Tuesday!). This is a new initiative that’s been set up by three DOC folks – Tom from the UK, and Chris and Sarah from the US, utilising a new feature on Twitter called Spaces. It’s a terrific way to host an online peer meeting, creating yet another time and place that is BY people with diabetes, FOR people with diabetes. There is a weekly guest who gets put through their paces with terrific questions from the hosts and those listening in, and an open mic chat time as well.
It’s super impressive to see people from all over the globe participating. It reminds me a little of the DSMA tweetchats which are very welcoming and open to all, regardless of where you live around the world.
Search #DiabetesChat on Twitter for more.
dStigmatize
The team at diaTribe has once again tapped into one of the important issues, and much spoken about topics in the diabetes community and developed a terrific new website addressing diabetes stigma. It’s called dStigmatize and you can find it here.
I’m delighted to see Diabetes Australia’s work on stigma and language highlighted so prominently on the site (disclosure: I work at Diabetes Australia and have been involved in this work), including the videos from last year’s Australian National Diabetes Week campaign, which have been viewed hundreds of thousands of times.
Seasons of…diagnosis
New research out of Finland asked if more people were diagnosed with type 1 diabetes during colder months. You can read the paper here.
And a discussion on Twitter about it here.
HypoRESOLVE podcast
The HypoRESOLVE comms team created a new podcast to showcase the incredible work of this researchers involved in the project, with a strong emphasis on how people with diabetes are involved in the project. I was delighted to host this podcast and speak with some truly remarkable clinicians and researchers as well as other people with diabetes who are on the projects Patient Advisory Committee. (Disclosure – I am on the HypoRESOLVE PAC. PAC members are now paid an honorarium for our time working on this project, however we were not at the time of recording or working on this podcast.)
Here is the most recent episode (on Spotify).
Better engagement with PWD = better services
Great paper from a team out of the UK looking at how connecting with the lived experience expertise of people with diabetes, health professionals and diabetes health services can improve service delivery.
One of the co-authors is one of the GBdoc OG, Laura (@Ninjabetic1 on Twitter), and it’s great to see her name back in the diabetes world, contributing to this important discussion.
And the DDA podcast…
The Danish Diabetes Academy developed a podcast out of their Winter School that featured Postdocs who had participated in the academy speaking with others in the diabetes world to discuss who academic researchers work to ensure their research reaches and benefits those they are researching. I was so honoured to be invited to be interviewed for their first episode and answered questions about how communication is important when engaging people with diabetes to be part of the research process. You can listen here.
Language Matters for Portuguese speaking friends with diabetes!
The latest in the Diabetes #LanguageMatters stable is this document out of Brazil. Always terrific to see more and more statements coming out, highlighting the importance of language and communication in diabetes.
Thinking of starting on an insulin pump?
If so, the awesome Grainne at Blood Sugar Trampoline has you covered with this post. It is truly one of the most measured pieces I’ve read about things to consider if you are on the path to starting an insulin pump. The gushiness and superlatives that many of us resort to when banging on about how much we love our pumps are replaced with sensible, and practical advice and suggestions. If this is where you’re thinking of taking your diabetes management, Grainne’s piece is a must read.
Who doesn’t want to come to ATTD!?
#dedoc° voices is back and heading to ATTD in April this year, and applications are still open if you would like to be considered as part of the program. Successful applicants will be granted access to the entire ATTD program, giving them an opportunity to share what they see and learn with their networks. Make your submission count – this is a competitive process and success is more likely for those who take the time to provide details of how they will be involved in the program. Details here.
(Disclosure: I am an advisor to the #dedoc° voices program. I do not receive any payment for this role.)
World Health Organisation
In March, the World Health Organisation, through the Global Diabetes Compact, is hosting a two-day focus group for people with lived experience of diabetes. If you’re interested in getting involved, there is an expression of interest process you can complete here.
Also from WHO is this survey which is asking people with diabetes how to improve messaging and communication. You only have until 28 Feb, so get onto it now! (Disclosure: I was a volunteer consultant in the development of this survey)
Massive kudos to the Global Diabetes Compact team who are doing an absolutely stellar job engaging with the community. Always so terrific to see!
A diabetes sea shanty…
You’re welcome.
(Follow @TypeWonDiabetes on Instagram here.)
People with diabetes and their involvement in research
An end of year delight was this article that I co-authored making it to publication. The article is about how to better involve people with health conditions in research (which really seems to be something I’ve been very focussed on recently!).
Spare a Rose – last push
February still has a last few days which means that Spare a Rose isn’t over yet. You can still donate and contribute to this year’s total and support people with diabetes in under-resourced countries through the Insulin for Life program.
I was interviewed for an article last year and loved the copy they came up with, but it was the heading that got me. ‘Living a Life of Advocacy’ it screamed at me bold text, perfectly popping out from the hot pink background of the photo they’d selected to accompany the article.
The photo is from a while ago now. It was 2013, and I was on a stage in Paris where I’d been invited to give a keynote at Doctors 2.0 – a digital health conference that brought together people using, developing and constantly thinking about digital health solutions. I look at that photo and love the action shot of me mid-sentence, one hand holding a microphone, the other waving, because of course.
But I also know that at the time I was about 10 weeks pregnant and behind the confidence I projected on that stage, I was terrified and anxious. It was a terrifying time as I balanced wanting to be the best advocate I could while also wanting to bunker down back home, wrap myself in cotton wool and do nothing but protect the baby I was growing.
As I spoke about how digital solutions bring together a diabetes community from across the globe, I didn’t know that a mere four weeks later, while in New York, I would miscarry my much-wanted baby. I didn’t know that I was about to face the most challenging and emotionally traumatic period of my life. I didn’t know that, because all I thought about in that moment as I was on that stage with the hot pink background, was how important being there was – people with diabetes on stages as equals with health professionals, disrupters and industry. It was big!
Living a life of advocacy. All while almost being afraid to breathe because I was worried that every jolt, every movement, and the active way I present was endangering the baby. No one else would have known that was going on. There was one person, and one person only, at the conference who knew I was pregnant, and she was sitting next to me on that stage. I figured that I needed a friend with me if something went wrong. No one else was knew, and no one – no one – knew how afraid I was.
In a recent podcast interview, I was asked where this advocacy drive came from. Without missing a beat, I answered that it was in my bones. Because it is. My mum, the trade unionist, had me at protests while I was still in a pram. I went to university to study music, but it makes perfect sense to me and those who know me that I’ve wound up doing what I do, being who I am, advocating my way through my days. In my bones.
But that doesn’t make it easy. It doesn’t stop the burnout from it, or from feeling overwhelmed. And when it’s diabetes that is the focus of those advocacy efforts, while at the same time, I spend so much time focusing on living with diabetes, there’s a weight that seems compounded. It is heavy.
Last year, almost 12 months ago to the day, someone decided to email me about Spare a Rose, reaching out through my blog and, with nothing better to do, thought they should let me know that no one cares about the campaign, and that I should understand what people think about me (which wasn’t much, apparently). It was shitty, it was unnecessary. It was unnerving. After the third or fourth one of those emails, I decided to share one on Twitter. I had no idea who it had come from, but I figured that whoever it was would see my tweets and understand just how upsetting it all was.
It did the trick because it was the last time I heard from my anonymous critic. At least, for the 2021 campaign.
Alas, a week into February 2022, old mate was back, this time with a comment on my blog post about Spare a Rose. I’m guessing it’s old mate – I could be wrong, because who knows when people won’t put their names to things, but the sentiment was the same. It has the same hits as last year. It’s cruel and unnecessary and, once again, has completely rattled me.
It confuses me beyond belief that of all the advocacy issues I’m involved in, it’s the one that literally is saving the lives of other people with diabetes that was the reason someone thought they would take the time to message me. I mean, I get my fair share of criticisms about language, and other topics that are not everyone’s cup of tea. But surely if there is one thing we can all agree on, it’s that a campaign that is saving the lives of people with diabetes in under-resourced countries is not controversial.
Surely.
It all feels so, so heavy.
I know I’m not alone. I know it is a side effect of advocacy. I look to advocates in the diabetes world and I am in awe of what they do.
I am in awe of people advocating to healthcare professionals to be more mindful and thoughtful of the way they interact with people with diabetes.
I am in awe of people who work in industry, invading that space, gaining employment and while they are there, building a career that is forged in advocating to create devices, and device adjacent materials to make diabetes better, easier – and those devices more relevant.
I am in awe of people advocating about the injustices of insulin pricing and access, because they want to change the paradigm that means that some people simply cannot access the very drug they need to stay alive.
I am in awe of people who advocate quietly for years, and make big change by doing small things, over and over and over again.
I am in awe of advocates who have not waited, and instead, built solutions to make their lives easier and less burdensome and then – once they had worked it all out – made it free and available to anyone else who wants to benefit, and then remain there to support them.
I am in awe of creative people who use art, poetry, drama, comedy, music, as advocacy tools to show people how diabetes impacts everyday life and to change how the world sees those of us living lives of diabetes.
I am in awe of the work all these advocates do, and I wonder if they’re also feeling that physical weight that comes from their advocacy.
Do they feel that pressure coming from all different directions, weighing them down from above while also feeling as though it is crushing them from the sides? Do they feel overwhelmed?
I do. And it really, really is heavy.
February 1 and Spare a Rose. The two go hand in hand in my mind. It’s when the diabetes community comes together to support a campaign that gives back in the most fabulous way. For anyone who is new here, or who isn’t sure why the DOC takes on a fetching red hue for the month of February, let me explain.
#SpareARose is a beautifully simple idea that asks people to forgo one rose in the bouquet to their love on Valentine’s Day, and instead, donate the saving from that one rose to a charity that supports people with diabetes in under-resourced countries. That one rose (about $5/£5/€5) covers the monthly cost of insulin.
Since 2013, the campaign has been known as Spare a Rose, Save a Child, and the charity that has received all donations has been Life for a Child. Over those nine years, the diabetes community – people with diabetes, people affected by diabetes, diabetes organisations and diabetes industry – has raised close to US$400,000, providing months and months of insulin to children in under-resourced countries. Plus, it’s raised the profile of the charity. Back when it started, very few people in the diabetes community knew about Life for a Child. Now, it’s supported financially by many, and recognised by even more.
For 2022, the campaign is doing something different and broadening its outlook to support people with diabetes diagnosed as adults, or who ‘age out’ of programs that have an upper age limit. Life for a Child supports people up to the age of 26 years. But of course, type 1 diabetes is for life, as is the need for insulin, diabetes supplies and healthcare.
With this in mind, #SpareARose has changed to Spare a Rose, Save a LIFE to recognise how the campaign will be helping adults with diabetes now, and the new charity partner – Insulin for Life.
Insulin for Life is a global charity and supports people with diabetes in many of the same countries supported by Spare a Rose. It’s so wonderful to know that these people will continue to receive insulin and other diabetes supplies, even once they hit 26 years of age, and beyond. You can read more about the important work done by Insulin for Life here.
Despite these changes, the campaign remains the same. One rose = one month of life. It’s a fabulously simple equation. What also remains the same is that it is a campaign BY the community, FOR the community. Every single person in the Diabetes Online Community can be a part of #SpareARose. We’ve seen tweetchats hosted by people across the world, we’ve seen fun challenges on twitter (remember #SpareAFrown?), we’ve seen videos and vlogs and lots and lots of blog posts. #SpareARose is on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.
Of course, it’s not just financial contributions that make #SpareARose the success it is. It’s also about the community raising its voice to a veritable roar, and elevating the campaign and its charity partner. If you can donate, please do. If you can share, please do. Every time you share, someone might be click on the donate button, or the share button.
#SpareARose to Save a Life. Is there a more meaningful gift to make in the name of a loved one, a friend, a colleague, or in your own name? I really don’t think so.
DISCLOSURE
I’m so honoured that I get to be involved in this campaign by sharing and promoting it as widely as I possibly can. I have spoken about #SpareARose across the globe and written dozens of pieces to raise awareness of this fabulous grassroots campaign, and anyone and everyone can do the same thing. Really, I have no disclosure. I volunteer my time, along with a number of other diabetes advocates from around the world who drive socials to talk up #SpareARose. We also work with diabetes organisations and industry to encourage donations. If you would like to get involved, please reach out. The more the merrier!
Today is the day. The centenary of what remains one of the greatest medical discoveries ever. Here is a reworked post (first published here). There is not a day that I am not grateful for this discovery. And not a day goes by when I am not aware that the diabetes life I live and the access I have is not the same for everyone around the world.
And so today seems a really good day to make a donation to a charity that supports people with diabetes who need it. For me, when deciding which diabetes charities I’ve decided to donate to, it’s been important that the support is tangible. And that’s why I have repeatedly written about Life for a Child, and Insulin for Life on this blog, and supported them with regular donations for a number of years. Their works provides on the ground support, medications, diabetes supplies, education, as well as doing research. They also have an advocacy function, raising awareness of not only the work they do, but the people they support.
If you are able to make a donation it’s a great day to do it. In amongst the celebrations it’s important to remember not everyone will be able to do that today. Remembering them on this important day in diabetes history is very fitting.
Donate to Insulin for Life
Donate to Life for a Child
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There has been lots of discussion about what happened 100 years ago today – on 27 July 1921. University of Toronto scientists Fredrick Banting and Charles Best successfully isolated the hormone insulin. Today, that means that I am alive and kicking, 20 years after my islets stopped making any.
It means that type 1 diabetes treatment moved from being a starvation diet and not much else, to injecting a drug that was life giving and life saving.
It means that I take a drug that while giving me life, is also lethal and if not dosed carefully and with great consideration can cause terrible side effects.
It means that people with diabetes don’t die terrible, agonising deaths simply because they were diagnosed with diabetes.
It means that I need to be able to do crazy calculations to ensure what I put into my body completely and utterly imperfectly mimics what those with functioning islet cells do completely and utterly perfectly.
It means that there is a treatment therapy that gives us hope and life and allows us to live – sometimes very long, long lives.
It means that each and every day I feel fortunate to have been born when I was and not 100 years earlier.
It means I take for granted that I have access to a drug that keeps me going.
It means that there are far too many people around the world who still do not have access to the drug I take for granted. And 97 years later, that is not good enough.
It means that it was 97 years ago – 97 years ago – since the discover of insulin to treat diabetes and we are still without a cure.
And it means that I wonder when there will be the next breakthrough that is as significant and meaningful and life changing and life saving as what those two Canadian scientists discovered 97 years ago.
But mostly. It means that I live with hope. Hope that those scientists are somewhere working away, and perhaps – just perhaps – are about to find that next big breakthrough.
I’ve just placed an order so I can have this print in my office at home.
Alex is donating 20% of all sales of this print to Type 1 International, another charity I have written about a number of times, and supported financially.
You can see more artworks by Alex at her website, Diabetes by Design.
Diabetogenic 