Monthly Archives: February 2017

Cut the crap 

I’m lying on my bed, just past 11pm on a Wednesday night, and I’m aching and nauseous and trying not to cry with anger. I’m so frustrated, and I’m frustrated that I’m frustrated.

I’m finding my sugars really hard to manage, and I’m doing everything right. I’m only eating foods I know the exact carbs to, I’m taking my insulin, I’m exercising daily, and you know what that’s done? TWO DAYS ABOVE 25. I ate NOTHING from 4pm until now, corrected every hour, and I only came down to 15. FIFTEEN, after not eating for SEVEN HOURS. I’m ‘hangry’ as hell, if someone even breathes the wrong way in the next 24 hours, I will not be held responsible for my actions.
I’m so fucking sick of this, of doing the right thing, of doing what doctors and educators

and nurses tell me to do, and my body deciding to make its own rules. I’m so angry, I’ve spent years working towards not being afraid to take my insulin, and as soon as I’m in a place where I can, it doesn’t fucking work. I correct and correct and it gets harder and harder, as all I see is insulin pouring into me, with no discernible effect yet the feeling that I’m gaining weight from the insulin by the hour.

I’m so tired of diabetes, I am so DONE. I am so under the pump this year with 12 hour work days, finishing off my Masters degree and volunteering, I just want to go about my life without diabetes stubbornly refusing to cooperate. I’m not expecting miracles, I’ll take a high reading every now and then – hell, I’ll take once a day. I just think that I should be able to do my job without a fuzzy head, weak muscles, and a brain that can’t work fast because it’s been wading through sickly sweet blood for the past few days. Everyone has bad days, we’re human. I’d just like the chance to have my bad days without the side of ketones???

It’s 11.09pm, my pump software just started to work after half an hour of suspending, rebooting, and giving my diasend cable the stink eye. My email to my educator has a subject line that reads “please help!!!” with a sad face emoji as a prelude.

Cut the crap diabetes, get your act together. Just respond to SOME insulin, PLEASE.

 

 

Have faith in others.  

I slid down against the wall, checked the train timetable, and sat back. I felt a little funny, but today had been a weird day. A small fire at uni, that had us joking in the corridor but then mildly freaking out as we realised we were stuck on the first level due to the single stairwell being blocked. Then news from Bourke St, that a person had mowed down pedestrians and left a trail of carnage behind him…today had not been a good day, I was ready to get home and build myself a doona and pillow fort.

Suddenly, I couldn’t control my limbs. I looked down at my thighs twitching, and inwardly screamed at them to STOP! Before I knew it, this twitching made its way up my entire body and I wasn’t able to see through my blurred vision. I started fitting -I couldn’t control my limbs or my head, it was like the screaming in my brain to stop was blocked by each jerk against the tiles. I could hear voices around me, feel hands touching my head and the sweat in every pore, but I couldn’t pause it. Being awake in your own body while you fit and watch people around you freak out is not something I’m keen to repeat.

 

I spat out “diabetes” as the convulsions became less strong and a nurse (found that out later, at this point she is an angel) pulled a coke out of her handbag and grabbed my shoulders as she forced it down my throat. Looking back, it must have looked very Steel Magnolias – DRINK THE JUICE SHELBY!

shelby.gif

Some beautiful women called Donna and Kate helped me onto my train, and let me cry at them until my stop, where a woman called Sal sat with me until my blood sugar reached the sixes. She fed me all the hypo food I had left while telling me about her niece with type 1, and how hypos are “such a pain!” You’re not wrong Sal, you’re not wrong.

Times like these act as a reminder that I’m not invincible. That however much I tell my body not to drop, to hold on, to keep it together, that sometimes I lose all semblance of control.

I forget that the majority of humans are inherently good. 99% of us want to help each other, and have empathy in spades. I felt so looked after by these three strangers, and they were so caring and genuinely worried that I nearly started crying again. Throw that together with my friend listening to me freak out on the end of the phone for a solid 10 minutes, and my diabetes crew assuring me that it’s happened to some of them…

Scary things can happen to those of us with diabetes, and I really think the only way to tackle it is by trusting that we will be ok. That people around us genuinely care, and that being vulnerable and letting yourself be helped (both physically and mentally) is really the only way to acknowledge those scary feelings and keep on living your life. We can’t let diabetes stop us altogether, but sometimes we have to let it stop us for a little while – stop us and force us to acknowledge that we are not invincible.