Diabetogenic

Keep calm and hypo on

January 9, 2014 in Diabetes, Food, Hypo, Lows | 1 comment

Hypo Boy (AKA Spike Beecroft) is back with what I hope will be his first of many 2014 posts for Diabetogenic. Here, he shares some of his hypo stories. Thanks mate!

Hypos, like taxes, Christmas and birthdays happen. You can try hard to avoid them but eventually the sneaky buggers find you out and drop you to the floor, slug you for dollars, make you have to suffer the indignity of shopping or remind you that your age-growth may have out stripped your wisdom-growth. The main point is to keep calm and carry on.

Hypo Boy probably has had a slightly alarming number of hypos over his life time, but he’s not dead yet and he’s getting better at staying upright. Here he shares some of the funnier aspects of hypos.

Hypos affect your brain. What was once an instrument of sharpened surgical steel, able to slice through complex problems of logic may struggle with simple ideas. Such as the concept of a cupboard or door and the hypo fixes that live behind them.

Hypo Boy (HB): I need the stuff that’s in the thing…. You know the thing (mime show of cupboard door opening).

Better Half (BH): You what?

HB: I need the stuff that helps me. It’s in the packet in the place with the thing (more miming).

BH: Are you okay? Hypo Boy you’re really low, aren’t you?

HB: That’s what I’m telling you! I need the stuff that helps me. It’s in the place with the thing (more miming).

BH: Okay, you’re really low Hypo Boy. Now tell me where your snakes are.

HB: (exasperated) In the place with the thing. I can’t remember what it’s called but it goes like this (mime) and looks like that (points to door). But it’s smaller.

BH: Just wait here. I’ll look in the cupboard and see what’s there that might help.

HB: Cupboard! That’s it! The snakes are in the cupboard!

Even if the surgical steel is only moderately rusted it still might not quite hit the mark.

BH: (on waking to hear HB in the kitchen) What are you doing Hypo Boy?

HB: I’m low. I’m just getting something to eat.

BH: (turning the lights on in the kitchen) What are you doing?

HB: I’m low. I’m just getting something to eat, then I’ll come back to bed.

BH: Is roast beef good for hypos? (Hypo boy was busy carving and eating left over roast beef. It was delicious in his defence.)

Hypos can also impact those around you. While that may seem obvious, occasionally you do get an odd ball one. For a long time while dating a young women, Hypo Boy had fallen into a disturbing routine during moments of intimacy:

i) Amorous activities (details withheld to maintain the mystery and allure);

ii) Hypo;

iii) Amorous-activity-interruptus walk to 24-hour Coles for hypo fix; return home for fix and talk before….

iv) Return to complete point (i)

After a while, point (ii) began to interrupt point (i) too much. Hypo Boy made some dose adjustments without informing his partner, so that when they started on point (i), he managed to skip points (ii) and (iii). Hypo Boy was happy, and if he was a bit more Gallic would have lit up a cigarette.

Hypo Boy’s partner, rather than being happy about the new arrangement, started to question why.

‘Wasn’t I energetic enough? Do we need to do something different? Why didn’t I give you a hypo with my young, fit, flexible and nubile body?’ (Some dialogue may have been adjusted for writer’s own benefit.)

Hypo Boy learnt a number of lessons that night:

(a) Let people around you know when you’re making dosage adjustments. It’s helpful if they know there could be a reason for a change in routine.

(b) DO NOT laugh at a young woman who is questioning her performance. She might not let you play with her toys for a while.

Sound advice, Hypo Boy, sound advice. Sometimes you just gotta laugh. Do you have any amusing hypo stories to share?

Wordless Wednesday – tools of the trade

January 8, 2014 in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Prepared. Jelly beans in every room.

Fixing something old; starting something new

January 6, 2014 in Diabetes, Real life | 1 comment

How are your New Year’s resolutions going? I read something the other day that most men who resolve to lose weight in the New Year have given away their diet by 2 January. Way to commit, guys!

The reason most of us fail when we make resolutions – at any time, not just New Year – is because we’re unrealistic about what we’re hoping to achieve. We grandly make claims that we will reinvent ourselves in ways that are simply destined to fail. We get disillusioned at the lack of progress or disappointed any time we fall by the wayside. So, we give up.

Diabetes resolutions are no different. Promising to start being a ‘good diabetic’ (my eye is twitching right now!) and swearing to never have a BGL reading above 8mmol/l is noble in its vision, but downright impossible to attain. The first reading above 10mmol/l and the towel will be thrown. In.

Changes need to be small and goals achievable. Small rewards along the way acknowledging what we’ve accomplished help too.

My main diabetes goal for the start of the year is to get my basal rates sorted. I know that things aren’t great and haven’t been for some time. Despite having lost a significant amount of weight over twelve months ago, I haven’t done proper basal testing for a long time. I guesstimated some changes at the beginning of last year after some really nasty hypos and that kinda helped, but not so that I felt that things were really on the right track. Despite knowing that reduced weight means reduced insulin requirements, I didn’t bother to work things out properly and faffed around by reducing bolus doses to compensate for too much basal insulin. Just ‘cause you know these things doesn’t necessarily mean you fix them. Apparently.

So, I’ll be starting with my morning basals and taking it from there. It’s frustrating and I really would prefer to be doing anything else, but I know that when my basal rates are tight, everything else diabetes-wise is that little bit easier.

Outside my diabetes life, I’ve decided that this year my goals include things that stretch me and push me out of my comfort zone. Last year, we visited Marrakech, which was so unlike anywhere we’d ever travelled previously. It was great. I loved it! I loved being in a country where each day I experienced something new and I was surprised around each corner. As much as I enjoy going to places where I know how things operate, it was so much fun working out a new place.

GeorgeHarrisonBanjoUkulele_posterz_bgbkg.244133714_std

So with the desire of searching for something new to keep me busy – something that was a bit of a stretch – I found myself uttering the words ‘Yes, I think I would like a banjo ukulele’ while I was wandering around a music store in inner-Melbourne last week. It’s been years since I played any music, and rather than pick up my flute and start playing that again, I’m going to start something new. Why not?

The goal isn’t to be a virtuoso, it isn’t to play gigs. Hell, it isn’t even to be any good at it. The goal is to do something new and something fun.

Learnings

January 3, 2014 in Diabetes, Real life | Leave a comment

New starts excite me. I love the possibilities of what lies ahead. The beginning of a new year has me filled with optimism. I don’t do resolutions, but I do like the ‘clean sheets’ feel of the start of January. And with a year behind me that was probably one of the most difficult I’ve ever had to endure, saying goodbye to 2013 has been more than welcome.

But as much as I love the new, the old makes me feel secure.

Old habits die hard, and for me that’s never more apparent than when it comes to diabetes. As much as I like to be up-to-date with the latest gadgets and know what’s at the cutting edge of research, I can still be relied upon to do many things the same; day in, day out. There is comfort in knowing that when checking my BGLs, my middle and ring fingers will always draw blood, so they are the two that I always use. There are minimal surprises when I insert a new cannula into the only fleshy part of my middle region – around the sides. Insulin delivers smoothly and evenly and after four or five days, I know that it’s time to change the line before my BGLs start to rise. Hypo treatments that work are the ones I rely on and mixing it up only reminds me why I’ve used The Natural Confectionary Company snakes for the last 10 years. Call it a rut if you want, but I prefer to look at it as ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’.

It only becomes a problem when something I’m doing – and continuing to do – isn’t working and I don’t do anything about it. Not learning from mistakes is denial in its worst form. There have been times when I’ve known what I’m doing isn’t working and instead of dealing with it and making changes, I make excuses for it. ‘Oh, inserting cannulas into my leg isn’t providing as stable insulin delivery as usual, but it’s only because I’m sitting at my desk for work. When I start walking around more it will be fine.’ (Note to self: your job means sitting at your desk. You don’t like walking around. Stop putting the cannula in your leg!) Or ‘Yep – I’ve been hypoing constantly at 3am for a week now. But I don’t need to change my basal rates. Oh, no. I’ll just keep seeing if it fixes itself’. (Note to self: it won’t. Change your basal rates, you twit.)

Einstein said that the definition of insanity is ‘doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results’. I say denial is often easier than trying to work out what’s going wrong and making changes.

So even though I say I don’t do resolutions, I am making one promise to myself for this year. Denial is out. If something isn’t working or if something is wrong, I’ll address it. Making the same mistakes over and over and over again doesn’t serve me well in any way. I’ve been too complacent in accepting things simply because I’ve felt I haven’t the energy to tackle them head on. But no more.

As I stood watching the fireworks explode over the city, signalling the start of two thousand and fourteen, I exhaled the year that just closed and said a quiet good bye. But better than that, I felt the strength in me that had built over the year. Because that’s the thing. Learning from the tough times means that hopefully the same mistakes won’t be made again. I know that if faced with any trials and tribulations like the ones that came into my life last year, I won’t be dealing with them the same way. I’m ready for them.

Trying to see clearly

January 1, 2014 in Eyes, Real life | 10 comments

First day of the New Year and I’m full of hope and happiness. And complete and utter frustration. If I cover my right eye, the possibility of excellent vision, gorgeous colours and clear lines is there. I can see it and I can reach for it. When I cover my left eye, I see a murky mess where colours are dull, lines are blurred and there is no such thing as white – just yellowing gloom. And when I look out of both eyes I see a mismatch. With a headache. This is the reality of life between cataract surgeries.

One of the gorgeous women I work with bedazzled me up an eye patch!

The good news is that the first surgery was a success. To say that I was stressed is an understatement. I was anxious and nervous and prepared to walk away and simply put up with my eyes as they were. Even as I was waiting for the anaesthetist to administer drugs, thoughts of jumping off the table and running away, surgical gown open at the back and flying in the wind, into the car of my waiting chauffeur played in my mind.

But in less than 30 minutes of being knocked out (yep – I got my general anaesthetic!), I was awake with one eye patched. There was no pain, just grogginess from the anaesthetic. And the next morning, I sat in my ophthalmologist’s room as he gently removed the patch, gingerly cleaned out the eye and then….then I could see. The sharpness of my vision startled me. Outside, the blue of the sky and the green of the trees had me gasping. Everything was in focus. At least, it was out of the ‘good eye’. I was equally startled by how horrendous the vision is in my right eye.

The downside of cataract surgery is that the synthetic lens that has replaced my own milky lens can’t focus. So while my distance vision is great, I need glasses to read now. It’s a new world of trying to remember where I left my glasses (usually on top of my head) and every time I so much as want to check the time on my phone, I need to put them on. But I’m getting used to this and once the other cataract is removed, I’ll be able to spend hours upon hours finding the perfect pair of glasses. You can hear the disappointment in my words at the thought of adding further accessory shopping to my list.

I love a new beginning as much as the next gal and I’ve done a lot of things lately so that things really do feel new and full of possiblities. But until I get the second cataract removed I feel a little in limbo. In the meantime, it’s reading in very limited stints, napping in the afternoons and doing everything possible to deal with the ‘mismatch’ headache. And counting down until the next eye gets done!

Happy New Year folks.

Reading glasses.

The year that was

December 31, 2013 in Uncategorized | 6 comments

Did I mention that December was going to be a busy month? I think I may have. I’ve had grand plans of recapping some of the incredible things that have happened – especially that World Diabetes Congress. However, time, life and a medical procedure got the better of me.

Right now, I’m recovering from cataract surgery. Actually that’s not completely true. The surgery is well and truly over and recovery took all of about 15 hours which was when the patch came off and I was told to just do everything as usual. I’m now dealing with one ‘good eye’ (the one without the cataract) and one ‘bad eye’ (cataract still there for another 17 days). The mismatch has resulted in headaches pretty much all the time. Staring at a computer is difficult at best.

I’d also had a grand plan of recapping the year that was, but given that this post has been written in two minute spurts over the last week, I think that I’ll take the easy way out and do this.

Farewell 2013. This was the year there was new stuff. There was also some old stuff (namely me turning the big four – oh….no!)

There were visits to new places. And return visits to places that I love.

Chrysler_Building_Midtown_Manhattan_New_York_City_1932

New York, New York.

There were online friends and in-real life friends, and there was family.

Online and in-real-life friends.

There were lovely times; fun times, shoe times and silly times. There were scary times. And there was the hardest, saddest, most terrible time ever.

There was recovery and light at the end of the tunnel.

There was music. There’s always music.

Always music…..

And there was hope. Because there is always hope.

It was another year of life. And diabetes. And tomorrow – it starts all over again. New.

My best wishes and love to you all for the coming year. Thank you for reading and for commenting. I’ll see you (really see you – with no-cataract-eyes) in 2014.

Significance

November 26, 2013 in Awareness, Diabetes, Family | 4 comments

I have a significant birthday coming up. I’m turning 40 tomorrow which, when I mention it, is generally met by people either speaking in hushed tones (‘Are you okay about it?’) or high-fiving and hugging me (‘You go girl!’).

I am okay with it and in all honesty, hitting the big four-oh hasn’t been something that has freaked me out or filled me with dread. I think about how I was when I was 20 or 25 or even 30 and I know that I’m proud of the person I am now. I’m comfortable in my skin.

I also have my 15 year wedding anniversary coming up. In times when we’re told that the marriages last an average 8.7 years, it feels good to cross off this milestone.

As much as birthdays and wedding anniversaries should be celebrated (I’m a big believer in cake, cards and carats) I’m actually finding that it’s actually my diabetes anniversaries that are becoming more and more meaningful.

This year, I ticked the fifteen years with diabetes box. I look in awe at friends who have had diabetes for many more years and at Kellion medallists who have lived lifetimes with the condition. But reaching fifteen years and doing a quick check of how this condition has affected my life leaves me with mixed emotions.

There is satisfaction that my annual complications screening checks come back with favourable results. Even the six-monthly visits to the ophthalmologist have become bearable – or at least, less traumatic – because the reports from my lovely doctor have been positive. Cataracts notwithstanding, there doesn’t seem to be any significant diabetes-related damage at the back of my eyes.

The way that my hypos have changed over recent years doesn’t leave me feeling quite so confident and self-assured. I am concerned about the times I’ve needed assistance, and with the white out hypos where I have lost significant chunks of time.

And then there are the things that lurk in the back of my mind, pushed away and only allowed to come out in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep, or in moments of surprise when I’ve forgotten to keep them hidden. Things like worrying about reduced life-expectancy or becoming reliant on my family for my care. And fear that despite common sense and what I’ve been told that it really is because of diabetes that I have miscarried three times.

But mostly, there is fist pumping when I think of how diabetes hasn’t stopped me from doing things; nor has it decided how I will live my life.

So I’m planning on big celebrations for turning 40 – it should be celebrated and not with any of this ’40 is the new 30’ crap. But with acknowledgement and some pride of who I am, what I have achieved and the wonderful people I have around me who fill my life with love and happiness. I’ll celebrate the places I’ve been and look to the places I’m going. And I will also acknowledge that in over 15 of the 40 I’m celebrating, I’ve done it all despite diabetes.

Starting birthday celebrations a couple of days earlier thanks to the waiters at our favourite cafe who surprised us with a sparkling tiramisu!

Sister files

November 22, 2013 in Diabetes, Family, Real life | 1 comment

I have one sister. She is younger than me and much, much smarter. She also is able to wear yellow shoes and look elegant and stylish – something that I am yet to manage without looking like Donald Duck.

Actually, her style is something that is enviable. Earlier this year, she moved back into her newly renovated home. This may sound unremarkable, but the way she managed to pull together everything in a timely and on budget way is testament to her super organisation skills. Now, she has a home that is perfect for her in every way because she’s considered how all aspects of its design need to work with her. It’s light, bright and airy and a perfect showcase for the beautiful things she’s collected in her travel to over 48 countries. Everything has a place and every bit of space has been used perfectly.

I guess that now she’s moved in she’ll never be leaving!

That’s part of the appeal of doing something exactly the way you want. She designed the extension and renovation to work with her life. Her house and garden are low maintenance and easy to live in. There are open spaces and a kitchen with wide benches for the meals she makes for friends and families (and birthday cakes she makes for her ridiculously fortunate niece!). Everything works because she was able to plan it from the beginning, keep an eye on it throughout the build and then put the finishing touches on it herself once she moved in. When things didn’t go to plan or there was a problem, she worked through it with her builder and changed the plans to suit. But she never lost sight of what it was that she wanted and what she needed. It has her name stamped all over it!

I’m really trying that philosophy with my diabetes at the moment. I’ve set some goals that are right for me and, I believe, achievable. I’m keeping an eye on things and using the results I’m getting to make plans and make changes. When I’m thrown a curve ball (AKA three overnight hypos in a row) I make changes – but I keep the goals I’m working towards at the back of my mind. I’m doing things the way that work for me, fit in with my at-the-moment-crazy life and don’t get stressed if I need to make a slight change to things.

So far, things are working okay (albeit the three nights in a row hypos). I’m relaxed because I’m looking big picture, not at tiny results. A lousy day of numbers is but a lousy day – not a long term indication. Stopping, regrouping and taking stock regularly help.

So while the end game for me is not a beautiful house it is diabetes managed in a way that makes it easy for me to breathe. And that’s a good thing.

Sisters

The day that was

November 15, 2013 in Advocacy, Awareness, Diabetes, DOC, Real life | 4 comments

World Diabetes Day is drawing to a close across the world. The clock is about to turn over into 15 November but it seems that blue lights will burn brightly for some time to come.

Melbourne’s iconic GPO gets its blue on for WDD13

My WDD started on its eve with an important event for diabetes research. The 2014 Diabetes Australia Research Trust awards presentation gave 22 Victorian researches grants. Many people aren’t aware of the commitment Diabetes Australia makes to research each and every year. This year alone over $3million dollars was given, including the $150,000 Type 1 Millennium Award which is specifically for research into type 1 diabetes.

After the awards, I found myself in the Melbourne drizzle wandering down to the GPO. As I approached, I saw it lit in blue. It looked splendid! Staff from Diabetes Australia – Vic and some of the Diabetes Australia Young Leaders donned blue ponchos and held all manner of lit-up blue things (I got a wand!! I’m just like Hermione!!) and stood in the glow of the GPO. This is part of the IDF’s global light up a monument campaign. You can read here for other iconic buildings and monuments that have been washed with blue. It was some fun for an important awareness-raising activity. And now, I have a blue wand!

On WDD proper, I found myself up just after 4am and on a 6am flight to Sydney to answer some questions about diabetes on a new breakfast television show. Studio 10 ended its morning with a discussion about World Diabetes Day and I was asked about life with type 1 diabetes. It was an opportunity to bust some myths which I’m up for pretty much any time! You can see the interview here.

What I wish I knew…..

Next up was the launch of a new book called What I wish I knew about type 2 diabetes which is a collection of stories of people living with diabetes (all types – not just type 2 despite its title) and health professionals working with PWD. This gorgeous little book by Marty Wilson tells wonderful tales of people who have lived with diabetes for many years. It also includes one of my previous blogs. Look out for the book – it’s definitely worth a read.

World Diabetes Day is an important day for the diabetes community. It is our day to talk about diabetes and have others thinking and talking about it too. Whether it be international organisations like the IDF who yesterday released new global diabetes statistics in their Diabetes Atlas, or local and national diabetes organisations like Diabetes Tasmania who attended Government House for an event with some of their Young Leaders, or community events and activities like the global 24-hour diabetes Twitter chat, it’s a day where diabetes is front and centre. My Facebook and Twitter streams were full of blue and family and friends commented on my posts and even posted on their own pages about diabetes. (A shout-out to my sister who got TOTALLY in the WDD-spirit by wearing blue circle earrings and plastering her Facebook wall with WDD messages. Thanks, Toots!) I even pinned blue circles onto our real estate agents’ very suave suits as they came to do an open for inspection for our house sale last night. Everywhere I looked I saw blue.

Diabetes may not be understood by everyone. But yesterday was a day where we could talk about it and hopefully give people a little more understanding about what life with diabetes means.

Of course, it doesn’t end here. The WDC is in just two weeks. Let’s keep the conversation going. And don’t forget the OzDOC get together on 3 December as part of WDC!

Getting Personal

November 13, 2013 in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Last year on a cold July night, the first OzDOC gathering was held in a small Melbourne restaurant. From little things, big things grow! Now, 18 months into our OzDOC world, we have held almost 80 chats and are continuing to enjoy growing numbers of people from the DOC from all over the globe. We love it when joining folks from all corners of Australia, we find our Nigerian DOC friends tweeting alongside us, or someone from France or the UK joining in, or some of our US buddies bleary-eyed tweeting as they get in their first caffeine hit for the day. Did we say global?

The World Diabetes Congress hits Melbourne in a couple of weeks, and we thought what better opportunity to celebrate OzDOC than with a meet up and tweet up! This way, we get to see each other IRL (that’s In Real Life for those who don’t speak Twitterese) and then have our regular Tuesday night OzDOC tweetchat.

So – if you’re going to be in Melbourne for the World Diabetes Congress, or even if you can just get to Melbourne for the get-together, please come along. Here are the details:

Tuesday 3 December

7.00pm (OzDOC chat kicks off at its regular time of 8.30pm)

Aria Bar and Lounge at the Langham Hotel

1 Southgate Ave. Southbank

RSVP: www.facebook.com/OzDiabetesOC

Don’t forget to wear blue!

And if you’re not yet on Twitter and part of the OzDOC chats, why not come along anyway and hang out with us? We’re a fun group, diabetes is only ever part of the dialogue and it’s a great chance to meet others who ‘get it’. And while you’re there, I bet we can get you hooked on our weekly chat!