Monthly Archives: March 2014

What I miss

(Post idea taken from Renza)

I’ve only had diabetes for four years. If my diabetes was a child, I wouldn’t be able to read, tie my shoelaces or plait my hair. I’m a diabetes baby, and as weird as it may seem to me now, I’ve lived the majority of my life without this stupid disease. I never really sit back and reflect on my pre-diabetes life, as it hurts too much and feels like I’m purposely putting myself in pain, but I thought it was a good idea to delve into that part of myself that I always push down and try to ignore.

What do I miss?

  • I miss my emotions being JUST emotions, not something that will affect my blood sugars and result in more guilt, on top of the stress/worry/sadness I’m already feeling.
  • I miss being able to exercise without doing a 12 step equation in my head to figure out basal rates.
  • I miss not being connected to a machine 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
  • I miss my old stomach, thighs and hips. They weren’t full of bruises, scars and insulin lumps – I could rock a bikini without people asking me if I had been in a fight.
  • I miss walking around completely naked 😉 #pumpersgetit
  • I miss being able to eat with strangers and not having to deal with people freaking out whenever they see the blood on my finger or the syringe I’m using.
  • I miss sick days just being sick days – no ketones, no high BGLs.
  • I miss the easy assumption that having kids will be straightforward.
  • I miss being able to eat when I want to, not when my blood says I can or can’t.
  • I miss feeling safe in a hospital. I know more than the nurses and most of the doctors about my diabetes, and that is a terrifying feeling. I had a nurse nearly give me 30u of NovoRapid because she thought it was long acting… (RAPID!! HOW DOES RAPID IMPLY LONG ACTING?!) I have to stand up for myself the entire time and that sucks.
  • I miss going out with a tiny bag.
  • I miss not basing my self esteem on my diabetes control (I’m working on this)
  • I miss my life not revolving around numbers – weight, food, bgls, bloods, averages…
  • I miss the lack of guilt – guilty because of the money I cost my parents. Guilt for future kids if they ever get diabetes. Guilt over my numbers.
  • I miss going to bed and knowing 100% that there is no risk of dying in my sleep.
  • Most of all? I miss the freedom. Diabetes is always there. It’s there when I’m doing an important uni presentation and my sugars shoot up to 23 (thanks stress). It will be there on my wedding day, the day I have a child, at the funerals of my parents – it never leaves, and I can never have a break. What did I think about before diabetes…what was in my head?!

Diabetes has brought a lot of amazing people and experiences into my life, but if you could wave a magic wand and take it away from me forever, I would be first in line. I HATE it, like I’ve never hated anything before. My life is great, but I can clearly remember life before it, and it sucks to have tasted that life. This may seem like a pity party post, but I think I’m allowed to mourn my old life sometimes. I’m a realist – diabetes sucks, it doesn’t matter how pretty they make the pump covers or blood test meters, it sucks. Don’t pity us, but understand that it’s not easy. 

Diabetes NINJA

(Sorry for the lack of posts, I’ve been overseas on an intense study placement and didn’t have time to breathe!)

So I’ve recently started cheerleading! I thought it was time to stop watching “Bring It On” on repeat and try it out before I get too old.

It was my second training tonight, and I’ve been wearing my pump clipped to my sports bra like I do in dance and calisthenics. I thought that would be ok…IT WAS NOT OK.

So we’re doing jumps, and we’re doing a “herkie”, which looks like this.

Image

We’re on a spring floor, and I got really excited because I’ve spent the best part 18 years on hard floorboards! The coach shouts “and 1,2,3,4”, I jump ridiculously enthusiastically and MY PUMP GOES FLYING.

OUT OF MY BRA, HITS ME ON THE FACE, THEN OUT TOWARDS THE FLOOR.

For about a millisecond it dangled there, somewhere near my crotch (shout out to Animas Inset IIs for staying stuck to my belly even when it was dangling completely unsupported). As I came down, I grabbed it with the hand that wasn’t up near my head and stuffed it back into my bra, cleanly snapping back to “8!”, with no-one the wiser.

I don’t want to brag, but I felt as cool as this dude. 

ImageNinja diabetic, at your service.

Moral of the story, pump is coming OFF for cheerleading!