Excercise and D

I have always heard, excercise is an important part of good diabetes control. And, its true.

But, what when your diabetes, won't let you excercise?

I'm annoyed this morning. I'm trying my hardest to get fit and lose a LOT of weight... but diabetes likes to interfere. This is the second time in a couple of weeks - and I know, thats not a lot - that I've not been able to do my morning work out because of a hypo. It frustrates me to no end, that I am working so hard to lose weight, and to do it without manipulating insulins and running high, and then diabetes goes and rears its ugly head and gets in the way.

So - fellows Ds, parents of Ds, partners of Ds... how do you or your loved ones work around it? Do you just try to find a time later in the day? Do you have a small snack before working out (I threw back a handful of dried cranberries this morning pre-excercise)? Do you run that little bit higher of a morning, knowing you will burn it off?

Share your ideas, please... and send your friends over for help, too, if you can!

Love love x

Fundraising for a cure

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.

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

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...

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

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

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?