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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.
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.

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.