sweet-relief

Fundraising for a cure

2011-05-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

Diabetes... well, it sucks. And, I would really, REALLY like a cure... not just for me, but all of the babies, children and adults out there. As a mum myself now, my biggest fear is my beautiful son being diagnosed... So please.. consider donating.

http://www.teamcurediabetes.org.au/katiemarie

Protect against child abuse.

2011-03-14T14:35:00.000-07:00

There are resources available for those struggling with their baby... family, friends, mother and baby units, your local hospital, the maternal health line.. please... if you feel overwhelmed, call someone. Anyone.

A sweet little angel is placed in your arms,
You vow her protection and love
You hold her so gently, and smile adoration
And God watches on from above.

A month down the track, and your angel is crying
She’s screaming all day and all night
Nothing you try now will settle her down
And of her, you can’t stand the sight.

You try one more bottle, but still she is crying
You try not to get so upset
Attempting a cuddle, you pick your sweet girl up...
But brutally shake her instead.

You just couldn’t help it... but now she’s not breathing
She’s laying silent and limp in her bed
Your body is shaking, you’ve had no help with her...
And now your sweet angel is dead.

The resources were out there, you didn’t take hold
Didn’t call for the help when you could
You feel so much guilt, so much anger at YOU
And as God watches, he thinks “so you should”

A sweet little angel was placed in your arms
You promised her love and your care
But when she needed you most, she had no understanding
Why only your anger was there.

Spring in Melbourne

2009-09-22T03:23:00.000-07:00

Walking through the dusky streets,
I breathe in the scent of the evening.
A boronia bush in a front yard sends out a sweet aroma,
Teasing my nose,
Roses peeking through a fence provoke me to draw a deep breath,
The heady scent relaxing me further.
Pine trees line the street,
and the moist evening air smells of Christmas,
Speaking to me of sun, warmth, laughter and love,
reminding me that summer is near.
I dawdle on my walk home,
In no rush to end my enjoyment of the smells and sounds,
The scents and sensations
of a Melbourne spring evening.

I seem to be on a writing binge lately...

2009-05-25T10:58:00.000-07:00

The Clock

The clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
She lies awake in the darkness,
staring alternatively at the ceiling and the inside of her own eyelids.
A million random thoughts fly through her brain,
And she wonders,
Should she just get up and write?
Just put something on paper, tap something out on her keyboard,
Anything,
To relieve her brain from its constant turning.
She lies still,
And the clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
She lies awake still,
Taking deep, rhythmic breaths to fool her body into sleep.
And the clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
She rolls over, groans, and pulls her pillow over her head.
Muffled but audible,
The clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
The cat stands, stretches, looks at her,
And goes back to sleep.
It almost feels as though the beast is mocking her insomnia.
And the clock ticks, ticks, ticks.
She sighs, and gives in,
Reaches for the light,
Reaches for her computer.
Within minutes, her eyes grow heavy,
She wishes she had capitulated to writing's siren call hours ago.
As her brain finally surrenders to the need to sleep, she smiles...
And the clock ticks, ticks, ticks.

Dark Cognition

2009-05-24T14:41:00.001-07:00

Lying in bed,
The dark surrounding me,
I am illuminated only by the dull light coming from my laptop.
The only noise I hear,
Is that of the traffic outside, as cars pass every few seconds,
and the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of my keyboard as I type,
Just type whatever comes to mind.
I close my eyes for a moment, and stretch my fingers,
Almost willing my thoughts to pour out the ends...
And at the same time, I wish my musings to stay hidden, private,
Even from myself.
Brief thoughts flit across my mind,
and I try to banish them.
They are unwanted, unwelcome, unnecessary,
Serving only to complicate thing which are best kept simple.
Accompanying each of those unwelcome thoughts
is a brief flash of memory, an image before my eyes,
A picture that is just as unwelcome as the thought it tags itself onto.
I close my eyes, and try to will my thoughts away,
Try to focus elsewhere,
Try to clear my mind of... of unbidden thoughts,
Dangerous territory,
Uncharted waters.
My eyes grow heavy,
And I feel my breathing become deeper, heavier, slower.
My arms relax, my fingers become still,
And the tap-tap-tap of the keyboard becomes slower, clearer, heavier.
It is time to stop,
Time to sleep,
Time to dream.

A Love Poem... of sorts

2009-05-19T18:29:00.001-07:00

I haven't blogged in months.. my bad.

Here's my latest...

My love...
I look at you, and I crave you...
I crave the feeling of you against my lips, my tongue...
So smooth you are to the touch...
So delectable...

I desire you... I want to.. consume you...
And you sit there, in front of me...
Looking so good, so perfect..

Ahhh... sweet chocolate... why must you taunt me so?

Introducing Bill

2008-12-15T02:49:00.000-08:00

I would like to introduce Bill to you all. Bill is an old friend of mine... but before you hear Bill's story, I need to warn you that this story has nothing at all to do with Diabetes. In fact, there is very little sweetness about this story at all.

From a young age, all that Bill wanted to do was fly Santa's sleigh. Every night, he prayed to the angel on top of the Christmas tree (Christmas trees stay up all year round at Santa's village) that one day, he would get his chance. It was hard for a young reindeer in Santa's village. Bill's parents were unmarried, and had left him in the care of his aunt, living in the constant shadow of his famous cousin Dasher. It seemed that every year when Christmas came around, Santa stuck with his orginal crew of 8 + 1... Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen... and Rudolph. And every year, Dasher would prance home, and strut up and down in front of poor Bill, proudly showing off that he was once again on Santa's team.

However, Bill knew a secret... A secret that could get him on Santa's team in no time.

It was early December, and time for the annual Reindeer Christmas party. 2008 was promised to be a huge party, because Santa had decided to make good, and splurge on an open bar. The party was open to ALL of the reindeer, whether they were on Santa's main team, backup crew, or just part of the outside club of family and friends. By midnight, many of the reindeer had ingested enough eggnog to knock out a hippo... but Bill was a tee-totaller, and simply stood watch as his collegues and friends became more and more intoxicated... and what, to his wonderous eyes should appear?? But his cousin Dasher, arm in arm with Rudolph!!

Bill hid, and watched, and listened... and became privvy to the story of the year... Rudolph and Dasher were involved in a very heated affair... breaking Santa's biggest rule. (Rule #1: No 2 reindeer on Santa's team may fraternise. Offending Reindeer may face dismissal)

Bill debated with himself for days and nights.... he couldn barely sleep, he couldn't eat, he couldn't look Dasher in the eye... But, as everyone knows, when Reindeer are stressed, they eventually sleep... and when they are uber exhausted, like poor young Bill, they talk in their sleep... and it just so happened that Santa dropped by that night to check in on the young deer, and heard the whole sordid tale.

Well, as we all know, Rudolph is FAR too famous for Santa to dispose of... so he kept his job, Dasher lost his, and Bill took ol' Dasher's place.

Please ammend your carol books to include Bill.

The End.

Walk Day...

2008-10-11T23:03:00.000-07:00

was today.

And WHAT a day it was!!!

First, poor Chris, my wonderful boyfriend, was SICK, and had to go home before we even got to the walk.

Then, my best friends had transport issues, trains not running etc, and then got lost in the city.

Two of my gorgeous friends from HS were heading in, and their car was hit by a runaway road barrier.

My BGs SUCKED for the first part of the day.

HOWEVER...

The girls all arrived, eventually, safe and sound.

The weather was incredible, as was the turnout.

My BGs settled

And, i got some awesome photos... check out our shirts!

WALKING!!!

2008-10-10T05:00:00.000-07:00

For a cure, of course!!

The Melbourne JDRF walk to cure is on THIS Sunday, at Albert Park Lake in Melbourne... if you haven't already, PLEASE click and donate below!!!

http://walk.jdrf.org.au/teamParticipant.asp?participantID=9109

DIabetes Fundraising Video

2008-08-15T23:14:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to put together a fundraising video for JRDF...

In it, I want as many photos of kids and adults with t1 as possible... if you could forward me any photos that you would be happy to include, I would be VERY appreciative!!

Thanks!!

send your pics to: type1cure@gmail.com

xx

Back :)

2008-08-11T20:27:00.000-07:00

I'm back...

Thank you, to those who sent me encouraging messages and emails! I've been back on the d boards a while, but needed a little more time away from blogging... I'm not sure why, I just did!!

But, I've been busy while I've been gone, and designed some t's and a teddy bear, for sale over at my sweet-relief store. Go take a look, feel free to buy, and tell me what you think!

sweetrelief-store

xx

Taking some time out

2008-07-27T15:44:00.000-07:00

I have massive D burnout at the moment. I spent all last week battling SO HARD to get my bgs down, and ended up in hospital in DKA on Friday morning. I had a bit of an emotional breakdown on Sunday night, and I realised that I REALLY need a break... so I'm taking it.

I can't take a break from my own D. It doesn't work that way, unfortunately. You know the game. 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week. No reprieve. But I can take a break from breathing D in everything I do... so no D chats, no D boards, no D talk unless I absolutely have to. Just for a couple of days.

But I'll be back.

Love and blessings.

k

Kitamabob's Krazies

2008-07-22T07:09:00.000-07:00

Yep, that's the great Walk team name that my awesome friend Bernadette (Bernamabob!) thought up for me...

and the slogan...

Walking Together For A Little Sweet Relief.

Please... feel free to donate here

xx

Trickery, Deception, and D

2008-07-19T22:27:00.001-07:00

I was thinking, sometimes with Diabetes, it seems that no matter what we do, or how hard we try, no matter how vigilant we are, and how much we do things "by the book", we just can't get it right. Diabetes always has some trick up its sleeve, some secret weapon to throw us off.

Take this week for example...

I've got a wisdom tooth that needs to come out. Its broken, the nerve is exposed, and its giving me major grief... I spent several hours the other evening curled up in bed, going between dozing and crying, high on painkillers. Well, my sugars are way out of whack because of it. I woke up high yesterday morning, no ketones, bg 23.7 mmol/l (427 mg/dl), ran to the toilet and vomited. Got ready for work, was about to leave, bg was "down" to 19.8 (356), and had to run and puke again. All due to pain and infection in this tooth. I was injecting all day to try and get it down... and every time it seemed it was dropping, it would shoot back up again. Finally hit 11.7 (211) at bedtime, and slept through until 8am... when I woke up 18.3 (329). Not a happy camper here. Well, because i had been so high all the day before, and was needing nearly double my correction ratio, I decided to up my lantus a little, and give a slightly increased correction. I took 10% more lantus, and did 25% more on the rapid... and 3 hrs later, was 5.5 (99). Great!!!! Until, 20 mins later, was dizzy, shaky... didn't even test, just had some juice (17g). 20 mins later, was feeling like death! You know the deal... can't focus, legs don't work, sweaty, hot, teary... test... 1.7 (31)!!!! Aaaargh!!!!

Of course, i scoffed another 20g of carb down (juice), and another 20 mins later was 1.5 (27)... so kept going with juice - test - juice until I hit 4.6 (83), at which point I collasped onto the bed for a nap... and just woke up 22.2 (400).

So it looks like D is playing those games of trickery and deception again. Anyone got a fully functional pancreas they'd be happy to donate??

High Night

2008-07-12T07:26:00.001-07:00

Whatcha doing?
Drinking tea.
It's late.
I know.
Its after midnight.
I know!
You should be sleeping.
I know.
Why aren't you?
I can't.
Why not?
You know.
I know. Diabetes.
Diabetes.

Damn Diabetes (poem)

2008-05-30T04:28:00.000-07:00

“Mommy and daddy, it’s doing it again”
A little voice cries in the darkest night.
“Mommy, the monster is trying to attack,
It’s giving me the mostest awful fright”

“Come up here with mommy, tell me all about it,
Tell me of the thing that made you scream.
Hold on tight to daddy, give him lots of cuddles,
He’ll chase away the monsters in your dream”

The little child whimpers, holds on to her dad,
And whispers of the monster in her life.
She tells a horrid story of needles, pokes and blood,
Of walking on a point sharp as a knife.

Daddy wipes a tear away, he holds his baby close
He knows this monster’s one he can’t defeat.
He looks over at mommy, as she mirrors his emotions,
And silently he whispers “Damn this D”.

Auction Off Diabetes!

2008-04-10T02:20:00.000-07:00

For those of you that have never planned a whole fundraiser, might I suggest a diary? Oh, and if you have no natural organisational skills, you might need a friend that posseses those. Because believe me, it's a lot of work.

In case you're a little slow today and haven't already figured it out, I'm planning a fundraiser, for JDRF. Of course, it's a charity that's pretty close to heart for a lot of us, and I want to make it a great night all round, but I need some help.

First of all, the event: A live band, fingerfood and Silent Auction...

"Auction Off Diabetes: Bidding For A Cure"

I have the venue. That was easy enough... NewHope Baptist Church, Community Events Room. Beautiful.
I almost have a date... it just depends on when Youth don't need the room, as they have first dibs on a Friday night.
I'm waiting to hear back from a band.
I already have people donating items for the silent auction, but need more. If you feel like you have something you could donate, then it would be VERY much appreciated. Just comment here and I'll contact you!

Now, where YOU come in...

I'm trying to put together a video of people with t1, people of all ages... Male, Female, Old, Young, any location, any nationality... the only thing I ask is that you (or your child?) is t1. The pic can be anything you like... hanging with friends, chilling out, doing D stuff.... ANYTHING!!

If you can help me out with a couple of photos, then please email me at type1cure@gmail.com

And thanks!!

6 words Meme

2008-04-09T03:10:00.000-07:00

Well, thanks http://keezheekoni.blogspot.com/ . <3 ya.
Can I just say I suck, i have no idea how to link without showing the whole url.

Six Word Memoir Rules:

Write your own 6 word memoir.

Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you'd like.

Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.

Tag 5 more blogs with links.

And don't forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

My 6 words are..
talks, laughs, loves, cries, prays, dances.

I'm tagging Lissa at http://insulinjunky.com/ , Uncle Simon at http://trunkles.blogspot.com/ , the lovely Gail at http://butterflygail.wordpress.com/ , the very cool Bennet at http://ydmv.blogspot.com/ and my dear friend Katie at http://musicianmama.blogspot.com

My Deepest Apologies

2008-03-05T00:16:00.000-08:00

To Rod Stewart...

Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there is no pump above you
Filling in for my islets, take away all my highness,
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

For the dp makes me so ornery
And the lantus makes the day much harder too
You make it simple to bolus, somehow you make it better
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

My BGs make me folorn
As they change every morn, with the sun
But at the end of the day
We should give thanks and pray to the one, to the one

Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there is no pump above you
Filling in for my islets, take away all my highness,
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

My BGs make me folorn
As they change every morn, with the sun
But at the end of the day
We should give thanks and pray to the one, to the one

And Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there is no pump above you
Filling in for my islets, take away all my highness,
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
Filling in for my islets, take away all my highness,
Ease my troubles, that's what you do
Filling in for my islets, take away all my highness,
Ease my troubles, that's what you do

Calling All Diabetics... Types 1, 1.5, 2 and 3!!!

2008-02-12T14:54:00.000-08:00

My good friend (and favourite bride-to-be!) Gina over at DIABETEStalkfest is beyond awesome... donating an abundance of time to running Diabetes support boards and scheduled chats with D experts... all for the good of... wait for it... US!!!!

Yep, she does all this off of her own back, to make life easier for the millions of D's, and D supporters out there in the big wide world.

Check her out... Check us ALL out... over at www.diabetestalkfest.com

As for the scheduled chats... these are awesome. Real life D experts, in a live chat with a bunch of crazy diabetics and parents of diabetics, answering all your questions on whatever the nominated topic might be.

For the latest chat info, including schedules and transcripts, sign up at http://diabetestalkfest.ning.com/group/chatfestforthosewholiketochat?xgi=83Y0ABH

And finally...

Are you a mom with diabetes? Gina has a place to talk about everything involved in dealing with D in your daily life while trying to do everything else that a mom has to do. Check out all the other diabetic mommies at
momswithdiabetes.ning.com

Always, kudos to Gina for everything... you rock!!

xox

T1P

2008-01-30T08:48:00.000-08:00

For nearly 11 months now, I've been a part of a truly awesome community of people... the mothers, fathers and granparents of diabetics, and a few diabetics themselves, over at type1parents.

These people... are amongst the most wonderful, loving, caring people I have ever had the pleasure to "meet". The board is the most supportive, trouble free, loving community, and every single one of the members brings something different. We have our laughter, and tears... our venting and celebrating, our jokes and prayers... and above all, so many wonderful friendships.

I adore these people... every one of them.

Come check us out... whether you are a mom, dad, gran, pop, aunt, uncle, or t1D yourself... this place is beyond awesome.

http://www.type1parents.org/index.php?referredby=49

Sweet Relief Shop!!

2008-01-19T22:23:00.000-08:00

Check it out...

http://www.cafepress.com/kitsweetrelief

Contemplations on my future...

2007-12-28T01:08:00.000-08:00

The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins.
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
Brown streams and soft, dim skies -
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of rugged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me!

The stark white ring-barked forests,
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon,
Green tangle of the brushes
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops,
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When, sick at heart, around us
We see the cattle die –
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the rainbow gold,
For flood and fire and famine
She pays us back threefold.
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land –
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand –
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.

- Dorothea McKellar

I love my country. In body, mind and spirit, I am an Australian. I'm an "ocka"... I say things like "g'day" and "maaaate" and I wear thongs on my feet. I eat Four'n'Twenty pies for lunch, and put Vegemite on my toast. I love Aeroplane Jelly. I have friends who are "bogans", and I know that roos are dangerous if you get too close. Koalas are not cute and cuddly, they have sharp claws. And most of all, I know that Australia is bloody unreal.

But I have an opportunity to travel, to leave my beloved Australia and visit the land "of fields and coppice, of green and shaded lanes". And I just don't know what to do.

My friend, in England, is having a baby. I'm so excited for her, this baby will be showered with love and adoration. Partly in jest, I offered to go and be her nanny, and from there, a discussion about the reality of such happenings took off. It would be easy enough for me to get my visa and passport to work there. I would live with my friend, and of course, be employed by her. And now... now this is a very real possibility for me, and I am a little scared if I am honest.

Do I leave my home, family, friends... my cockatoos and lorikeets, my green hills and brown land and pristine beaches for England... or do I stay, regretting my decision not to go?

I have some thinking to do, and a decision to make.

Ninjas!!

2007-12-18T21:34:00.000-08:00

A note to those who have fairly active imaginations, and vivid dreams: Don't talk about weird, random things right before bed. It's not good for peaceful slumber.

A couple of nights ago, I was, for some strange reason, chatting to my friend about Ninjas, right before bed. I said goodnight, shut off the lights , and snuggled down into my pillow for a night of rest... ha!!

Damn ninjas decided to chase me through my dreams. They were after my pump, but be damned if I was going to let them have have it. I tried to scare them off, and I tried to run... thankfully, my friend Nikki jumped in and stood up to them, scaring them off for me. They didn't get my pump. Nikki was too tough for them.

I woke up, cuddling my pump protectively against my chest, holding it tight...

Damn Ninjas.

Hooked up

2007-12-08T02:47:00.000-08:00

So, as of yesterday, I started playing with 'Myself'.

Get your mind out of the gutter!!! Myself is the name of my lovely little Cozmo!!

Yesterday was P-day, and it was great!! Actually, there were a few hiccups, but that was to be expected.

I arrived at my CDE's office with a lovely bg of 1.9mmol/l (that's 34 for you Americans). Not a fun way to start the day, really... but a heap of jelly beans and a sandwich later, and we were ready to roll.

The insert was so much less painful than I thought it would be... actually, it was completely painless. Either I was anticipating too much, or my CDE has a magical technique!!!

I had a few hypos during the day, but dropped my basal to 80% overnight, and things seemed ok!! Today, I ran a bit high most of the day,, but have been perfect the last few hours....

I swear it, I love this machine!!!!

DOC Generosity

2007-11-30T14:22:00.000-08:00

Is it a documented, proven fact yet, that DOC people are the most generous, wonderful people on earth? I think it needs to be.

First, there was my pump. For those that remember, an American lady was going to be sending me a Cozmo months ago. That fell through, but another DOC member here in Aus jumped in and helped me out... my little blue Cozmo and I are being connected in 6 days.

Then, there was Ray. Another DOC friend that very generously posted me cozmo leather cases, a manual, an IR usb cord, batteries and software.

Now... there is our very own NicoleP, well known, well loved.

Here in Aus, we need to have our CDE send the NDSS forms to say that we can pump... well, my CDE FORGOT to do the forms, so I was going to be without sets.... er, not good for a pump start, clearly. I vented, and Nic jumped in to save the day, posting off sets, cartridges, IV stuff... and pb cups. Scott knows of my pb love.

She is awesome. I love her.

Nicole.... thank you. A Million Times. You Rock.

Of course, I can't forget Andie, who has kindly posted me some sets too.

I hope I get the chance to repay all this... or at the very least, to pay it forward.

Any other DOC generosity cases?? Share!!

Something new...

2007-11-29T03:32:00.000-08:00

... I posted something new tonight on http://thinkonthings.blogspot.com ... check it out, amongst some other awesome pieces by some very talented writers!!

Christmas for your pump

2007-11-28T05:33:00.000-08:00

I'm corny. 100%. I know I am, I admit I am, and I am about to prove it to all of you.

I start pumping - finally - in 8 1/2 days. I can't wait. In fact, I am so excited, that I figure I might as well let my pump celebrate Christmas with me... so I am making him, his own little Santa hat. Really.

Red felt, with fluffy white trim, and a white pom-pom on top.

I'm also taking orders... my email address is in my profile. If you want a hat, just drop me a line with the measurements of your pump, including height, width and circumference. No charge. Just some fun for Christmas.

Love, hugs and Ho Ho Ho's!!

My Thanksgiving.

2007-11-26T12:14:00.000-08:00

Here in Australia, we don't celebrate Thanksgiving. No Pilgrims, no turkey, no pumpkin pie. So, now that you Americans are all getting over your bloated tummies from your Thanksgiving over-indulgences, I want to have a little Thanksgiving of my own.

Today, as I sit here and look out the window while I type this, I am thankful for being an Australian.
I am thankful for our beautiful native birds and animals, for the eucalyptus trees in the backyard, for fresh air, for city, country and beaches. I am thankful for my freedom.

I am thankful that I have a job, and that the girls I work with are mostly lovely.

I am thankful that I have my health (mostly!).

I am thankful that I have a reason - many reasons, in fact, to get up and smile each and every day.

I am thankful that I have experienced being in love. Even when it ends badly, the joy and excitement of actually BEING in love is always worth any heartache in the end.

I am thankful for my friends. They are the most beautiful, wonderful people that I have ever had the fortune to meet, and I am blessed to have them in my life. I can only pray that I am a blessing to them, also.

I am thankful for my family, both immediate and extended. Sure, they drive me nuts sometimes, but they wouldn't be family if they didn't... right?

I am thankful for insulin, for glucometers and lancets and test strips and modern treatments... for obvious reasons, I hope!

Finally, on the list of things popping into my head today, I am thankful for diabetes. Diabetes has made me much more aware of myself as a person. I know my body better than most of my "normy" friends, and I can read the signals it is trying to give me (most of the time). Diabetes has made me a more compassionate person, and, last but certainly not least, Diabetes has brought me more love than I could have ever hoped for. Love for every one of my DOC friends, whether here, on T1P, DF, DTF, Tu Diabetes... where ever you are. You have all touched me in some way, and I thank God for each and every one of you.

Thank you.

For Shannon - and all the parents of Ds out there.

2007-11-21T00:08:00.001-08:00

Another day, another million things to do.

You sneak in, watching them sleep,
relishing those last few moments of normality
before the diabetic day begins.

On tiptoes, with hope that they sleep through it this time,
you creep to their bedside,
and kneel beside the sleeping angel,
the only light in the room coming from under the door...
and the backlight on the glucose meter as you test.

As you wait the long 5 seconds for a result,
your mind wanders,
and you are in awe at the peace on the face of the angel YOU created,
the angel sleeping beside you,
and your heart is in turmoil.

A result,
and this morning, for a change,
no correction.

You sneak out, heading down to the kitchen,
For there is another busy day ahead of you.

Another day of weighing and measuring.
testing and adding,
frustrations, celebrations,
tears and joy.

Another day of wondering.
Another day of looking at the miracles given to you by God.
Another day that you just do it,
just do what you have to do.

Another diabetic day.

My Heart

2007-11-16T21:41:00.000-08:00

I wear my heart on my sleeve.

Take a piece.. it's free.
It comes with no price.
There is enough for the world.
Don't be afraid, just grasp it.
Hold it and cherish it, take it where you will.
Keep it.
It's yours.
Just don't break it.
But take what you want of it.
It's available as you need.

I wear my heart on my sleeve.

Silver Linings

2007-11-13T08:55:00.000-08:00

Lately, I have experienced a huge hurt. Its a private hurt, shared only with my closest, most trusted friends, but I have also learned a lesson from it.

I trusted and shared a part of my soul with someone I should not have trusted or shared with. I gave unconditional love and friendship. I gave my all. And, it was thrown back at me with lies, twists, and thorns.

I thought, for a time, that it would beat me. That it would wear me down. Then I learned that I am strong.
I am worth more than what some person tells me I am worth.
In the eyes of God, I am beautiful.

Best of all, I learned that every cloud has a silver lining, and this silver lining is the cementing of a friendship, learning more about a person than I could have hoped to without this hurt.

So to the person that hurt, lied and spun a web of deceit... I thank you.

Inked.

2007-11-02T14:49:00.001-07:00

Yesterday morning, I woke up stressed. Yup, I was stressed out even before my eyes opened. Why??

Yesterday, was INK DAY.

And you know what? I got it done, and it didn't hurt one bit!!
Some discomfort at times, but certainly no pain... just a mild stinging sensation.

Over the next week, the black shading will fade to a nice smoky grey... Kudos to my great friend Don for the design!!

Dear Diabetes;

2007-10-20T15:08:00.000-07:00

Do you know what tomorrow is? I bet you don't even remember. Well, tomorrow is the 15 year anniversary of the day that everyone realised that it was YOU trying to kick my butt. Tomorrow is 15 years since the war began. And what a war it has been.

You know, at times, you have nearly won. Nearly. But every time, I have come up trumps. Sure, you have won battles at times. You've made me so ill that the doctors have gathered around my bed in panic. You've made me so ill that my parents have said goodbye. But each time, I've rallied my supporters around me, and we have won. You think that you can beat me on your own. What a joke. Don't you see, when you look at me, that I have a far bigger, far more powerful army that you could ever hope for?

I have my mum and dad. I have my siblings, although I know at times you like to steal them for a day or two. I have my friends. I have God. Yup, I see you there, cowering in the corner, shaking at the thought of all my supporters kicking your butt. Really, I don't understand why you keep trying. These sneaky late night attacks, you never expect me to wake up and use shock weaponry against you. The juice and insulin are on MY side. So are the needles and fingerpricks, as hard as you find that to believe. Them "hurting" me at times? It's a farce, to make you think you are stronger than me. Ha!

Actually, I need to be truthful. Sometimes, you have been stronger than me. Sometimes you have played with my body, my mind, my heart. Sometimes you have made me believe that I am on YOUR side of the fence, and I have fought against myself, causing more damage than you ever could alone. But always, always, one or another of my supporters, a member of my army, has rescued me, counselled me, and brought me back to the right team. Team Kit.

You've played with the hearts of my supporters, too. Do you think I havent seen my mum and dad cry at times, at the vicious attacks you have launched? Well, I have. And each time, your plan has backfired, because each attack makes us a stronger army, more willing and eager to fight against you and kick your butt.

I bet you never thought, 15 years ago when you started this fight, that I would be sitting here today laughing in your face. You thought that you had me beat that first day, as the doctors succumbed to your lies and told my family I wouldn't make it. You never, not for a second, believe that I had the strength to fight. You were so wrong.

I bet you never thought that, in our efforts to beat you, so many of us would become friends. That so many people, from all over the globe, of all ages and genders would band together to fight against you, forming friendships and relationships you can only marvel at. You get none of that.

You see, Diabetes, I have you figured out. You use sneak tactics. You try and fight. But you are nowhere near as smart or strong as you like to think.

You suck, I rule.

You lose, I win.

Game over.

A Child Of God.

2007-10-14T06:33:00.000-07:00

That is me. That is how I felt at kids church last night, for the first time in a long time, and it was re-inforced again at the sermon tonight. I am a child of God, I am loved, and I am secure in that knowledge.

I have been having spiritual issues again lately, but last night God fixed those. He seems to be good at that. Kids church always lightens my heart. To see the children worshiping God, learning from His word and praising Him... that makes me happy, and I know it must please the Lord. Last night, the sermon was all based around Luke 10:20 ("However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven."), and being content in what we have, being happy with our place in the world, and with all that God gives us. I was up doing the usual kids church thing, singing, dancing and praising, and I realised that I AM content. I realised, for the first time in weeks, that I am happy as God made me, and I don't need anything else. I don't have to have to have things, I don't need other people... I just need God, and His perfect love.

Then tonight.. tonight the sermon was called "This Little Light Of Mine". It was based on Matthew 5:14-16 ("You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."), and Dan talked about being the light of the world... and I realised, that is what I want. I want to be someone that people can look at and say "She shines for God". I want to be able to turn people towards the Lord just through them seeing Him in me. I want my friends that don't know Him to look at me and think "I want that.. I want God in MY life!"... I want to be a light for God. I want to be The Light Of The World, shining with passion and love for Christ, right where everyone can see it. I want to step out of my little Christian circle, and be used in God's will to change the world.
I don't want to be a light in a cupboard, or under a bowl, sharing my light only with those who have the same light... I want to shine in dark places. I want to be a light that fills a football stadium and hightlights the Glory of the Creator.

This little light of mine... I'm gonna let it shine.

Perfect

2007-10-12T06:13:00.000-07:00

No, not me...
I'm close, but not quite there. I'm too modest, you see. (yes, you can quit choking now)

Today, my bgs were just about perfect. The most out of range I had was 167, and I can definitely deal with that.

So, yet another reason to go to bed tonight with a smile pasted on my face.

Looking at me

2007-10-09T05:02:00.000-07:00

Last night, some people I can only consider friends made me take a good look at myself.

I've been a major downer lately... and these people were honest with me about it. Sometimes I need that. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in the things going on in my life that I forget that there are always people worse off than me. Sometimes I forget that God (yes, he DOES exist!!) lets us go through trials for a reason, but that he will never give us more than he can handle... and it takes blunt and brutal honesty (and a good telling off!) to make me open my eyes and step out of my self-centredness.

So tonight, I am going to bed with a smile on my face, and I am going to wake up the same way.

If I don't wake with a smile, I will paste one on there, and think of the blessings in my life rather than the negative things.

And finally. I will say a silent prayer of thanks to those who make me look at who I am, and see that I can be a better me.

Crying In The Chapel

2007-09-30T07:28:00.000-07:00

As I sit and think about you, I feel tears run down my face and into my hands, and it is only then that I realise that I am weeping. Strangely enough, this realization only makes me cry more, and the silent weeping turns into a ragged sobbing. I feel Alicia’s hand on my arm, but her touch offers no comfort. I hear her praying quietly beside me, for me, but her words wash over me, and make no difference. It is only her voice that I hear, I have no idea what she is saying, and I wonder, do I even want to know?

The church service finished a good half hour or 45 minutes ago, but we still sit, Alicia praying, me just crying. Someone turns down the lights, our hint to go, yet still, we just sit. The last teenage stragglers leave, heading across the road for a "healthy" McDonalds dinner. Someone puts a hand on my shoulder and joins Alicia in prayer. And still, I just sit, staring at the bottom of the chair in front of me. I can’t bear to look up at the cross. Suddenly I realise that the praying has stopped. Alicia still has her hand on my arm, and I realise it is Monica with her hand on my shoulder. I squeeze her hand, and whisper a strangled “thank you” to them both. They close in for a group hug, Tim and Amy joining in, and I hug back, choking back another sob as I do so. There is so much love for me amongst these people, and I have so much for them, but tonight, it is more than I can handle. I don’t want to hug. I don’t want to be told I am loved, and I certainly don’t want anyone to ask if I am ok, because right at this point in time, I am not.

We leave the auditorium, calling quiet thanks to the caretaker for waiting behind for us, Alicia handing me a Kleenex as we walk. An unspoken decision is made to head over to meet the rest of the group for dinner, and we walk slowly, in silence. Jenny catches my eye as we walk in, a question on her face, and I nod once that I am okay. I order just a drink, I can’t face food tonight. We sit, and I listen to the conversation around me, but for once say nothing. The talk is about you, and I have nothing to add, only questions in my mind as I wonder, God, do you even exist?

Heartache

2007-09-25T11:28:00.000-07:00

She weeps,
alone in her bed,
and cries to God "why?".
Tears course down her cheeks
and soak into her pillow.
She cannot sleep,
the heartache and worry
is too much.
Everything that was so wonderful
has turned to shit,
and there is nothing -
absolutely nothing -
that she can do.
She worries about him.
She is scared for him.
Does he truly know,
no matter what happens,
she is going nowhere??
With every molecule of her being,
She loves him.
Every breath she breathes
is for him.
Every beat of her heart
beats for him.
Does he even care anymore??

She fell in love.
So did he... she thought.
But,
everything they had
turned to shit.

She cannot contact him now.
She is completely cut off.
And she is petrified for him.

Sick makes emotions... ugh

2007-09-21T10:56:00.001-07:00

Tears well in my eyes,
And it is with surprise
That I feel one roll down my cheek.
I know what I want
But how to tell myself that I cant have it
Eludes me.
I hold my head in my hands
But with no clear idea as to whether it is in despair
Or merely fatigue.
I have hit the wall.
I can’t sleep…
Emotions roll around my heart
Thoughts whirl in my head
And rest is but a passing fancy.
My head is hot
My hands burn
My chest aches
And I need you near.

Tick-tock, biological clock...

2007-09-15T05:26:00.000-07:00

My sister had a baby on Thursday evening, 8.30pm. Logan Josiah Marcus Synot, 6lb 12oz, and perfect in every way.

My issue is, Logan's birth seems to have set my own biological clock in motion, and it is ticking LOUD. I'm only 23, for Pete's sake. I'm also single, and so far from LOOKING for a boyfriend right now that its not funny. My heart still lies elsewhere. So why is it that looking even at baby clothes and diapers makes me act like a mother hen?? Why does looking at photos of my friends' kids make me tear up??

Maybe its partly nothing to do with babies at all. In the last week and a half I have adopted the alter-ego of Hypo Queen. My average bg on my meter was 72 last week. Today, of course, I havent had a reading below 180. I cant win lately!!

SO... I'm happy to take donations right now... I have room in my life for a baby or a working pancreas. I'll be happy to take both, but either one will satisfy if thats not a possibility.

The Advocate

2007-09-02T05:59:00.001-07:00

Well, apparently that's what I am. Nic said to take the test, and I always (okay, sometimes. OKAY, when it suits me!!) do what I'm told.

So, yes. I'm told I'm the Advocate. The ENFP personality type. My preferences are Extraverted
iNtuition Feeling Perceiving . According to the info page on ENFP "ENFPs are introspective, values-oriented, inspiring, social and extremely expressive. They actively send their thoughts and ideas out into the world as a way to bring attention to what they feel to be important, which often has to do with ethics and current events. ENFPs are natural advocates, attracting people to themselves and their cause with excellent people skills, warmth, energy and positivity. ENFPs are described as creative, resourceful, assertive, spontaneous, life-loving, charismatic, passionate and experimental. "

I get to be listed amongst people such as Alicia Silverstone, Bob Dylan, Sandra Bullock, Mark Twain, Steve Urkel (oh, I am so much cooler than Urkel!) and Ariel from the little Mermaid...

Cool jobs for me too... Artist, Actor, Church worker (I do a lot in church already), nurse, writer...

thanks Nic, for sharing!

Numbers

2007-08-30T06:27:00.000-07:00

27400
Twenty seven thousand, four hundred.
That’s approximately how many needles I have had since diagnosis.

43800
Forty three thousand, eight hundred.
That’s approximately how many fingerpricks I have done since diagnosis.

219000
Two hundred and nineteen thousand.
That’s approximately how many units of insulin I have taken since diagnosis.

130800
One hundred and thirty thousand, eight hundred.
That’s approximately how many hours I have survived since the doctors said I wouldn’t.

1000000
I million.
That’s approximately how many times a day I praise God for the gift of life, the friends I have made, and the things he has managed to teach me through Diabetes.

The numbers are everything.
The numbers are nothing.

I guess it's time to take it in my stride.

2 years...

2007-08-27T00:14:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is 2 years since I was baptised.

As I reflect on the past two years, and my time with God, I have tears spring to my eyes. Some are tears of happiness, and some are not so happy. Some are tears of shame, some tears of grief, and others are tears for reasons I can’t quite comprehend.

I feel like a different person to the girl I was 2 years ago, but I wonder sometimes, am I really?? Have I really given everything to God, and do I really love Him as I should?? Do I let him down? Do I make him cry?? Am I a disappointment to Him, after all He did for me??

I know that the answer to all of these questions is both yes and no. Sometimes I give it all over to God… but sometimes, I try to do it all by myself. I try to deal with the hurt and pain, the happiness and triumphs, the struggles and questions, with EVERYTHING, on my own… but inevitably, I remember that I can’t make it without Him, so I give it up, I cry to Him, and I ask Him for His help.

I know that most of the time, God is the One to whom I give all my love. I also know that sometimes, I try to avoid Him… I put human beings, mere mortals, before Him. I cry to my friends when I should be crying to God, and I cry about a person when I should give it to God and revel in the PERFECT love I have from Him.

I know that I disappoint Him at times. I am not perfect, and he doesn’t expect me to be… but He does expect me to obey His laws… and while I try, I do fail at times. I know that sometimes what I am doing is wrong, but I do it anyway… It feels good at the time, and it is only afterwards that I get the bitter aftertaste. To quote Don Francisco, “you trade your precious birthright for candy-coated sin”. I do TRY though… and I know that when I call to God with grief and repentance, He knows that I mean it… He knows that I will try harder, that I love Him… and I know that He forgives me.

In the past two years, I have made and lost friends. Some friends I have merely drifted apart from. One friend passed away. Of the friends I have made, I know that some I will have forever, and some I will lose. The ones I have forever are meant to be in my life forever… God brings them to me and me to them, to be permanent fixtures in each others lives. The ones I lose, they are here to serve a particular purpose, maybe to support me or teach me, maybe for me to teach something to. Either way, whether I have them for a week, a year, a decade or a lifetime, I love them all, and can Praise God for them. And praise Him I do.

I have had emotional ups and downs. I have ended a long term relationship, and been in another, far shorter one. I have had diabetes issues, and I have had depression issues. I have moved out of home, and back in again. I have had more blessings in my life than I can ever count, and I have God to thank for every moment. Every tear, every smile, every laugh, hug, kiss, touch, and word has been seen by Him, and I feel His love around me constantly.

Lord, through all my life You have protected me and guided me, even before I knew You, before I recognised Your awesome Grace and Power. In the last 2 years I have had the chance to acknowledge You, and I pray that I have made You proud… Thank you God, for my health, for the love I have been given, for my friends, whether here, interstate or overseas.

Most of all Lord, thank you for Your Son, Yeshua the Messiah, who gave His life for me.

I dont get it

2007-08-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Some days, I feel as though nothing around me is real... like everything going on is some type of bad dream, and that I will soon wake up. But, the day goes on, and I don't wake up. No matter how surreal I feel it all is, it's there. It's real, and whole, and I have to try to deal with it.

Sometimes, it's easy enough to deal with. I can lift my head, and smile at the world, pushing through the emotional pain and the fears I have. I can laugh with friends over dinner and a couple of drinks, and I can play that everything is perfect. Inevitibly though, something happens to knock me back to that surreal, dead space, where everything is grey, and the sun won't shine. Tonight, that something happened when I tried to communicate with someone I love very dearly.

I've written before about hating walls, and being one who needs to knock everybody's down. Now one has been errected by someone, and I can't break through... It is more solid than any wall I have ever encountered. Usually I break the walls, but I feel like this one has broken me. I am so sick of tears. I thought I was doing okay, because this person and I were able to chat... just chat in a friendly fashion... Then **POP** up springs this unbreakable wall.

I don't think I can even climb it.

Man From Snowy River?? Nah.... Banjo Paterson, eat your heart out!!

2007-08-22T03:48:00.000-07:00

THERE was panic at the doctors, for the word had passed around
That the pancreas of Kit had passed away,
She had joined the type 1 D ranks — in 3 days she lost 19 pounds,
So all the doctors gathered round that day.
All the tried and noted prayers from the churches near and far
Had gathered at the homestead overnight,
For they knew she loved her sugar and her soda and her cake,
And the carbs she would devour with delight.

There was the Peadiatrician, who made his pile when private practise began,
The old man with dollar signs in his eye;
But few could pay his charges when to him they were referred—
He would charge them through the nose and make them cry .
And the public healthcare system came in to lend a hand,
No cheaper system ever held the reign;
For everyone had access and could pay their meager fees,
The bills that they sent would not cause you pain.

And one was there, a dr with a massive, clever brain,
He was something like a genius undersized,
With a touch of classic Aussie—three parts thoroughbred at least—
His bogan-isms even shocked his wife.
He was thick and short and arrogant—just the sort you wish would leave—
You read "ego" in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of "asshole" on his hairy barrel chest,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

But still so rude and grumpy, one would doubt his bedside manner,
And the nurses said, “That doctor just won't do
For a young and friendly girl like this—he'd better step away,
Make one wrong move and her parents might sue.”
So he waited, ego deflated—yes, it seemed he had no friends —
“I think they ought to let me try,” he said;
“I might be rude and grumpy but I know what I can do,
I've all the knowledge right here in my head.

“i trained at Melbourne uni, in the medical faculty
Where the tests are twice as hard and twice as tough,
Where a man with lesser brain cells would falter in his stride,
And near enough is never good enough.
And the people that I trained with all look at me with awe,
They know I worked to get where I am now;
I have seen full many patients since I first commenced to treat,
And never yet one patient have I lost.”

So he went — He found the IV by the big pile of syringes —
He raced towards his patient like a champ,
And the old man gave his orders, ‘Nurse, I need some fluids now,
And someone please pass me an IV clamp.
And, Parents, you must trust me, try and trust my expertise.
Pray hard and you will see she will be fine,
For never yet was patient that could beat me at my treatment,
I promise not to let your angel die.’

Weddings, tears and BG issues

2007-08-19T06:35:00.000-07:00

I went to a wedding last night.

The groom was my uncle, Mick, and his stunning bride was Belinda. They both looked beautiful.
The service was lovely, and it was wonderful catching up with some family, and meeting others for the first time, like my two gorgeous cousins Mackyla and Morgan. Food was lovely, and the Creme Brulee for dessert was divine. The music was great, lots of 80's stuff, and I danced a lot, especially with my Poppy and my cousins.

I cried last night.

Looking at my uncle getting married, I kept wishing he was [a specific someone else] and Bel was me. Grrr. I say the music was great... However, I discovered that they play altogether too many love songs at weddings, especially when you are trying (unsuccessfully) to heal a broken heart.
On the plus side, I have this wonderful trait which is the envy of my girlfriends... I can cry for hours, and don't look as though I have cried at all... It makes it a lot easier to hide things from mum...

The wedding finshed, we drove home, and my best friend picked me up and took me to his place so I could cry with someone to support me. He knows everything about me, and never judges.

I had BG issues last night...

But I guess we can blame that on the Creme Brulee and the dodgy pancreas...

It's been a while...

2007-08-16T16:45:00.000-07:00

I haven't been here in ages... several issues. The least of which was not having internet... yup, that makes blogging an issue!! However... Internet is back, and I can see my online family again!!! YAY!!!! (Imagine me jumping up and down in front of an ice-cream counter, a big grin on my face!!)

I've had a lot to deal with lately, including work, diabetes issues caused by stress, stress caused by D issues, and some depression thrown in just for fun. Then there is a vey ill cell-group leader (cancer and then strokes) and an ill dad. Thankfully, God has blessed me with the most wonderful, supportive friends on this earth, and I thank Him for them daily.

Coming out of this spurt of depression was hard, but the sun shone in the end.

The sun, it shines, the birds, they sing
The wind plays with my hair
I look out on creation
And I know that You are there.
I praise You for Your strength and Grace
I praise You for my friends
I praise you for the love you give
And that it never ends.
Thank You God, for all of this
And all there is to come
Thank You God, for showing me
That you are number One.

Sand

2007-06-15T06:03:00.000-07:00

I stand still, quiet,
watching the sand beneath the rippling water
as it gently dances around my feet.
Storm clouds gather overhead,
the sky turns inky black,
and the water begins to swirl.
The sand rushes,
stinging my bare skin,
as the current tries to pull me under.
Thunder roars, lightning flashes,
and a wave crashes over my head
in an attempt to drown my cries.

I close my eyes, count to ten,
then open them again.

The sky is blue,
and once again,I stand still, quiet,
watching the sand beneath the rippling water
as it gently dances around my feet,
and this time,
I know the sand is life.

tears

2007-06-06T06:58:00.000-07:00

Tears keep rolling
And there is nothing I can do
to keep them contained.
Talk of the past brings up memories
feelings and thoughts I prefer to keep buried...
My heart is safer in it's cage.
In a cage it can't be poked or prodded
It can't be examined, then tossed aside
to be left, broken and shattered, on the floor.
With a heart in a cage
There are no tears to roll.

My D Story

2007-05-31T04:51:00.000-07:00

I had an urge today to write... and this is what came out. Its my story.

When people find out I have type 1 diabetes, the first question I usually hear is “Were you born with it?” The answer is no. I was born March 27, 1984, a perfectly healthy, if not big at 9 lbs. 4oz, baby girl. I was 3 days early… I dread to think the pain I would have caused my poor mother had I been on time and even bigger than I already was.

Mum didn’t have an easy pregnancy. In fact, a little known fact about me is that I was a twin. Mum nearly lost both of us at 7 weeks gestation, but we were fighters, even back then. Trouble struck again at 14 weeks, and my twin didn’t make it. It’s funny, but sometimes, even now, I wonder what it would have been like to have known him or her. Would we have looked alike, had the same opinions on things, liked the same foods?? Would we have been completely different in every way, hated what the other loved? But, more nagging than any of those thoughts, is this one: Would he or she have had diabetes too? It’s hard to believe that at age 23, I miss the presence of a twin that I didn’t even know… but somehow, I do.

Throughout my infancy and childhood, I was often ill. As a baby, constant colic and gastric reflux were the main issues. I developed chickenpox at 9 months old, then asthma, tonsillitis… and following the tonsillitis, strep throat and scarlet fever. I was constantly on penicillin for my tonsils. It was one bout of tonsillitis after another, until the surgeons finally decided to operate in 1992, when I was 8 years old, after I came off a 6 month course of penicillin and managed to get sick again in a matter of days.

Surgery was scheduled for Monday 19th October, 1992.

I don’t remember a great deal about this period of my life. A lot of that time has been filled in by mum and dad. Mum remembers me wanting drink after drink after drink on the night before the surgery, and put it down to the fact that I knew I wasn’t able to drink after midnight, making up for the fluids I would miss… perfectly reasonable in the mind of an 8 year old. I was still complaining of thirst the next morning when we arrived at Geelong Hospital, at 7am. Mum mentioned my thirst to a nurse, asking could I have some water, or even ice to wet my throat, but the answer was no. Surgery was scheduled for 9am.

********************************

Surgery went off without a hitch. It was only when I was taken back to the ward that anyone started to pick up that something might be wrong. All the other children going back to pediatrics after their tonsillectomy were doing one of two things: sleeping, or quietly whimpering. Not me. Showing the attitude that people who know me would probably expect nowadays, I was standing on the trolley, shouting at the orderlies to “Take me back to the bloody theatre and put my bloody tonsils back in!”… Yes, shouting. No mean feat for someone after an operation on their throat, no matter what age. Apparently, I didn’t believe anyone who had warned me that the surgery would hurt.

I recall that night, asking the nurse for a glass of milk, and my disgust when she brought me orange juice… it burned like nothing else. I also remember copious amounts of ice-cream, boiled sweets, lucozade and flat sprite.

Over the next two days, I lost 6 kilograms, or 13.2 lbs. It was noted on multiple occasions, by doctors and nurses alike, that I was “dehydrated although drinking excessively”, as was my excessive urinary output... I was unable to walk from my hospital bed to the toilet, a distance of less than 15 meters (49 ft) without assistance… yet I was discharged, and no tests had been carried out.

The next day, Thursday 22nd October, I was a very sick little girl. By this stage, I had lost a total of 9kgs (19.85 lbs), and looked as gaunt and white as a ghost. Dad rushed me back to the hospital on the Thursday afternoon, and was told at first that I was merely sleeping. Of course, he argued this. He knew me better than that. The doctor, I still believe, was arrogant, and hated that a parent dared to disagree with him. He refused to do blood glucose or urinary ketone tests. By the time a student nurse went behind his back and took a urine sample, I was in a coma. The ketodiastix stick showed black for both ketones and glucose… Massive levels, and an almost definitive diagnosis of diabetes. Within minutes, blood was sent to the lab, and an insulin infusion was running at a rapid rate. Still now, nearly 15 years later, we don’t know exactly what my glucose level was at that first test. It was too high to read.
It was at this point that my parents were given the news that I was diabetic, and in a coma. As if that wasn’t enough, they were informed that I had massive brain swelling, and was expected to have a stroke at any moment. They were told to kiss me, and to say goodbye, to notify the family that I wasn’t expected to pull through… that, in fact, it would be some kind of miracle were I to survive the next hour. We got our miracle. Not only did I survive the next hour, but I survived the night. Enter my pediatrician, and close family friend, Dr Jenner. It was he who had the devastating task of informing his friends that, had they not brought me into hospital when they did, that I would never have survived. Mum recalls saying to him “are you telling me… I would have put my little girl to bed tonight, and she wouldn’t have woken in the morning?” His silence spoke volumes, and it was mum’s turn to start vomiting… through fear, shock, and utter disbelief.

I was still managing to fight the next morning, despite the predictions of the doctors. By this stage, they had changed their outlook to something slightly more positive… “She still has excessive brain swelling, and we are still expecting a massive stroke at any moment… IF she wakes up, she will have brain damage… she will never walk or talk again, and will be in a wheelchair for life…” The doctors were wrong.

Saturday morning, mum woke at around 6am to what she still swears is the sweetest sound she has ever heard… my voice, calling “mummy”. She cried for hours, knowing that her little girl was a fighter, and was going to beat this thing.

I was in hospital for 3 weeks. I was given my first hypo during that time, so that I could experience the sensation in a controlled environment. I remember feeling as though I was eating all day. I still felt so ill that it would take me over an hour and a half to eat breakfast. As they cleared breakfast, they brought in morning tea, then lunch… it was a constant cycle of food, clear, food.

Within a week of diagnosis, I was doing my own insulin and blood glucose tests. Of course, I was also testing whichever nurse happened to be doing my blood glucose at the time… Enter Paul. Paul was a student nurse, 21 years old. After cajoling and working to convince him that a test wasn’t that painful, I managed to get his sample… 383, and high ketones when we convinced him that he needed some urinalysis too. Within a couple of hours, he was sitting beside me, proudly showing off his tummy… the site of his very first insulin shot.

I’m no longer in contact with Paul, but I do think of him often. I know he graduated back in 1993… 14 years ago now, and I pray that he is well. He was 21 then, so I can only guess that he must be married with children of his own by now.

Diabetes hasn’t gone away. It never will, no matter how many times, or how fervently I pray that it would. But I have realised… I have diabetes. It doesn’t have me. It has changed my life. At times, it dictates the way that certain things have to be done. But I can’t and won’t let it control me, my life, or my thoughts. I am me, a person who has Diabetes, not Diabetes, a disease that has me.

BG Hell

2007-05-27T07:20:00.000-07:00

Ugh... what a week.

I just spent 3 days in hospital with bgs of phenomenal levels... not much fun, I promise!! I'm still not sure what went wrong, the drs say a virus, mayhaps, but I wonder if that is "dr speak" for "we have no clue".

So what went wrong??

I started with high bgs about a week and a half ago, and they just wouldn't come down. I'm stubborn, and despite being urged repeatedly by friends to go to ER, I insisted that I could do it myself, that I would NOT submit to my D... HA!!!! By Sunday night last week, I was a mess... shaking and teary, and exhausted, but still stubborn... "I am in control, and I will NOT go to ER! I can DO THIS!!"

By Monday, I was worse. I woke up with a reading of 398, and was white as a ghost, shaking and nauseous. By lunchtime I was down to 356, so just kept bolusing and bolusing. Roll on 6pm, and I test... HI... crap, thats over 600... okay, time to give in.

Arrive in ER, and am taken straight through to a room and put on a trolley... IV fluids are hooked up, insulin is injected, and bloods are sent to the lab... and come back at 767. Ho-ly crap!! The dr doesn't even understand how I managed to walk inside, and neither do I. Thankfully, I had taken enough insulin to chase the ketones, so no DKA, which is always a relief!!

So, 3 days in hospital, as they try to stabilise me... but my body was being stubborn. Even on IV insulin I was flying high for no good reason. Dr McDreamy, as my friend dubbed him, was as confuzzled as I was, and running tests like nothing else, but it all came back clear. He finally believed I felt better and let me home on Thursday when I called him Dr McDreamy to his face!!

So, no answers. I've been out for 3 days, and only just had my first decent reading a couple of hours ago (126).. lets hope I can keep it there!!

Pumpin

2007-05-16T16:22:00.000-07:00

For the last year, pumping has been an ongoing question for me.

Will it help me? Do I want something attatched to me 24/7? And then, probably foremost, can I afford it?!

Obviously, the answer to the first question was yes... It will. It's not just a question of do I want this, it's a necessity. With 36 episodes of DKA in under 15 years, a pump can only be good, right? So, the answer to the first question renders the second question unnecessary, in my opinion.

Money... a big issue. Once I decided I wanted a pump, and my endo okay-ed it, I had to figure out how to save somewhere between $4000 and $7000... not easy. To be honest, I had pretty much given up on the idea for a long time.

So, skip forward to three days ago.

A lovely lady in the US ( I am in Australia) was giving away a spare Cozmo 1700 that she and her hubby had lying in the cupboard, unused for several years. This lovely lady is now sending me that pump, and I can't WAIT!!!

All my supplies are available here, no problem, and I can get my endo to change my insulin script to bottles from penfills, no dice.

So finally, kit's gonna be a pumper!

sleepless

2007-05-14T09:29:00.000-07:00

It is 2.33am, and I am awake.

I was asleep for a short time, but lately, sleep doesn't seem to last. Tonight I was woken by a phone call, but I don't mind, it was one of my dearest friends. I love to talk to him, and he knows it. Tonight, our call wasn't fun.

Why, when my mind should be 100% on someone or something else, does it cross to B?? Why do I have to be so deeply in love with him, when he has made it clear that he no longer feels that way for me? My heart aches.

I hate that when my heart aches, my liver decides to be sympathetic and work overtime. Does it not understand that high bgs make me MORE emotional, not less so??? It seems to be one of those nights where insulin is rendered incapable. Is there any point injecting when I simply keep going up, not coming down? Sometimes I wonder. This is one of those times.

I'm not always depressed... my blogs just make it look that way. Those that know me well know my sense of humour and the laughter that normally fills any room I am in. I'm known for being a bit of a clown... I guess that those that know me well might be concerned to read this... Those that know me best will be less shocked... they have seen inside my heart before. They have been allowed inside my walls.

At least my spiritual crisis has been dealt with. I was able to feel God last night after some big time prayer. I knew I missed feeling Him, but not how much.. and I have been praying while writing this, and I can feel him now. I know now that he is the voice in my heart that tells me everything will be ok. He is the warmth I feel when the rest of me is cold. He is the only One who knows me better than I know myself, and He is here with me.

He demolished my walls

A Crisis of Faith

2007-05-11T21:26:00.000-07:00

I am a Christian. It is, and has been for a long time, as simple as that for me. Until a little while ago, I would have said that my faith was strong, secure, and unshakeable. Don't get me wrong. I know there is a God. I know that without him, and all He created, I wouldn't be here. I believe in His son, Jesus Christ, and I believe that Christ is my Lord and Saviour, and there truly is none like Him. The basis of my faith is strong, and set in concrete. I guess then, that I am not having so much a crisis of faith, but a crisis of whys and hows.

Why, when I need Him so much, can I not see Him? Why, right when He has finally given me utter happiness and peace in the world, has He taken the source of my happiness away? I am struggling to understand.

I have prayed about this, and asked for peace. I have prayed alone, I have prayed with a friend, I have prayed in a group, and I have people praying for me. Why, if God is there, is he not answering my prayers? Why, if He loves me so much, as much as the Bible, His word, says, does He not want me to be happy?

People who love me tell me that His plan will be revealed to me soon... I hope and pray that they are right.

to blog or not to blog?

2007-05-11T09:14:00.000-07:00

That was the question.

I have been a t1D for nearly 15 years, and only recently begun to share, to talk, and to live in the online world of D discovery. The question of blogging has come up before... should I bother? Will I find it satisfying? Will anyone want to read my ramblings? I will warn you now.. often, my postings will merely be ramblings. They may be D related, they may not. And, I have a tendency to rant. Read at your own risk.

So, I have been convinced. Gina and Johnboy, you are to blame.