Instructions Not Included

Today's hypo treatment of choice is a glass of Innocent Peach and Raspberry Smoothie. This stuff is amazing. No evil, bendy yellow fruit in that. No really, I can't stand bananas. The taste, the texture, makes me want to throw up. So it really annoys me that every single smoothie on the market seems to contain them. 

I like to have some smoothie in the fridge. Good stuff for treating hypos with. I don't tend to drink smoothie or fruit juice at any other time. Mainly because I'm rather scared of doing so. Yes, I know that's stupid, because it's not like I can't have it. The thing is that I worry about the sharp rise that'll have on my levels, and I'm somewhat nervous about experimenting with trying to cover it. Shame, because I LOVE fruit juice and smoothies. 

So that there next to the glass of smoothie is a 'fun-size' Mars bar. Shocking, I know. I doubt you'd have figured that one out if I hadn't told you. I don't really like them a huge amount, but they seem to be perfect for evening out my levels. And it's probably a good thing. They're not exactly sensible snacking material. 

I had another hypo last night as well, which was also treated with that wonderful smoothie. I suppose I should make the best of it, really. It's only a limited edition.

So my train tickets turned up yesterday! What train tickets, I hear you ask? Why the ones to go to the 2 year birthday party for Circle D. Now, I'm not a member of Circle D, because I'm not a southern sort. But I'm thrilled to be going all the same. Lots of people from Diabetes Support (where I hang out a LOT of the time) are going to be there, and I'm really looking forward to meeting them. I'll be honest, I'm really looking forward to spending a bit of time with fellow diabetics. I haven't really met any this past year. So spending a day with people who just get it is really exciting. Even if it means I have to go to London.

I hate London. It's big, it's noisy, there are too many people, and it's expensive. People are rude, and you can never find anything. Of course, that's my experience, and Your London May Vary. But for a broke, claustrophobic, direction-inept crazy person like me (oh, who is scared of the big escalators that seem to be everywhere down there), London is pretty much my worst nightmare. So that there would be some serious commitment to the cause.

One thing that will be pretty awesome is that a number of supporters, and several of the Steering Group for DiDkA are going to be there. DiDkA is moving along nicely - big opportunity coming up this week, for the record! 

Further to my 'commitment to the cause' is the fact that, to afford to be able to do this, I am going to be taking a 6am train. This means I will be on my own, with nothing to do, in a city that terrifies me, from 8am in the morning. Anyone got any suggestions for good things to do at 8am on a Saturday morning in London?

In other news, I'd like to take a moment to plug a new product from Successful Diabetes, which is the workplace of my friend Shelley Bennett (who runs Circle D, and is a member of the DiDkA Steering Group - seeing the theme here?) They've just launched a new e-book, Living With Diabetes 24 Hours a Day - A Personal Journey. I'm planning to get my hands on a copy soon and give a proper review, but for now, if it comes from this company, it's going to be good! I think this is a really good idea for those who want to know a first person account of what living with diabetes is really like. And that's got to be a good thing!

Oh, and by the way I mean it. Know somewhere good for me to go in London at that time? Preferably en route to Leicester Square, then do let me know!

This is not a nice picture of me. But I figured it would be a good start to my attempt at Diabetes 365. I haven't made an account yet, but I figure I can start with my camera phone, and move on to a DSLR eventually.

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

But anyway, here's the story behind this one. I went up to B&Q today to buy a storage crate for merchandise at work. I was sure I could get there and back in an hour, in time for 12:30, to have my lunch. I was happy enough with my levels before we left, and with twelve complete hypo-free days behind me, I was fairly confident that I was going to complete day thirteen. Plus it would be ironic in a cliché-ridden way for the streak to end on day thirteen. 

However, it was there by the power-tools (see over my left shoulder) that my good run ended, in a collapsing jenga-tower-esque fashion. So there I sat in the B&Q cafe, eating my Glucotabs and sandwich, all the while wondering why on earth B&Q had a cafe in the first place. I was intrigued by a sign behind the counter, which said that outside food was not permitted, but 'exceptions would be made in cases of children with medical conditions'. 

Why just children with medical conditions?  Why would children be spending significant amounts of time in B&Q? Good to know that understand that sometimes people HAVE to eat, but do they think the children that would need to eat because of medical conditions won't grow up to adults who are going to need to as well? And that are more likely to be interested in lawnmowers/shelving/taps/drills?

Well, it's an interesting thought, and a rather surreal experience, watching men walk by with probably my body's weight in timber on a flat cart. 

A new game starts tomorrow.

Every now and then, with most jobs, you get a day off. It's Thursday tomorrow, which means the day after is Friday, and then comes the weekend. Hurrah! I have some holiday days to use, which means three whole days off coming to me as well. Double hurrah!  Everyone likes a day off, and everyone needs a holiday from time to time.

Shame that diabetes never takes one, isn't it? It really is. It's happy enough to be with us all the time. Even when it's an inconvenience, it's there.

I would like a holiday from diabetes. If you know where I'm coming from when I say this, I'm sure you're more than ready for one too.

But we don't get one, do we? It's for every day of every month, of every year, 24/7, including Christmas Day and Leap Years. Now, whilst that would be a great thing for a plumber or similar, sometimes you'd just like a break.

I've been looking at the Diabetes 365 project, and thought that I would really like to give it a go. I know I could just use my camera phone, but my heart is holding out for something slightly more exciting. However, my budget, brain and purse are telling me no, no, no. But what is really interesting is seeing these every day snapshots of people's lives as they manage their lives and their diabetes. Because, hey, none of us get a day off, but it's interesting to see what we do with out never-ending days on!

I woke up yesterday morning, and it looked extremely bright and sunny. Almost spring-like, in fact. But oh no, I wasn't going to be fooled by THAT one again. However, by the time I was walking to work, I had taken off my gloves, my scarf, my hat, and undone my coat. But come the evening, it was freezing again.

So this morning, I wanted to be slightly more optimistic that, for the day at least, it was going to stay warm. So I left my big furry russian-style hat at home, chose a beanie hat instead, and left my gloves in my handbag. But as soon as I'd walked out the door, it was cold. The pond was frozen over, and weirdly enough, there was some very light snow on portions of the grass. But then I walked out of the shade, and it was actually quite warm. 

What the heck is going on? Would the weather please make up its mind? I don't know what to expect half the time, and it's getting on my nerves!

I had my annual review at clinic today, and much like the weather, I wasn't sure what to expect from it, and hadn't quite figured out what to think about the whole thing. Despite this now being nearly a complete day eleven of my hypo-free streak, I'd been having lots of hypos prior to that, between one and three a day, most days. So I wasn't quite sure what that would have done to my A1c. 

But I went along, and aside from the fact that I was shocked to see 'Deal or no Deal' on the waiting area television, rather than children's shows for once, I didn't have to wait too long. I apparently now weigh eleven and a half stone, which is the lightest I have been in quite some time.

My HbA1c has gone up a little bit from 6.0 to 6.2. I'm not too bothered about this, it's still acceptable. I asked about getting a demi-pen, and my DSN is going to ring me about that tomorrow. So it looks like I might be switching to cartridges. I'm still not 100% sure how I feel about this though.

But on the whole, the outlook is generally clear.

I have hope on my mind today. I also have it on my hand. I would show you a picture, but I chose a fairly rubbish felt tip pen to do it with, and it's rather faded at this point.

But why? Well I got 'invited' on Facebook to what apparently is the 'Day of Hope' today. I won't cut and paste the info from the event, because I found some of the phrasing awkward, and I didn't quite agree with everything that was suggested. However, what I did agree with was the hope. All the people there are hoping for a cure.

When I met with my consultant a few months after DX, he said to me, 'I thoroughly believe that there will be a cure whilst I am still practising, and probably within the next ten years.' And I really wanted to believe him. But the thing that stopped me was that I knew oh, so well, the stories of my new friends who had all heard the same thing before. A cure in five years, a cure in ten. So whilst I wanted to believe him, I didn't want to put too much stock in something that might never materialise. 

There was recently a lot of publicity over the announcement of the artificial pancreas project, which JDRF are involved with. I recall that being asked about it when I'd read an article on the BBC, and what I thought. I thought it was amazing. But I wasn't jumping up and down. And surely I should have been? Well, maybe. I didn't want to feel desensitised to hope 'before my time', not even being a year old yet, in diabetes terms. But the truth was that I didn't want to get too excited over something that might not come to fruition, not matter how much I might want it to. But more than the artificial pancreas, what I wanted was a cure. I wanted this to be over. 

And that made me think again. It made me think of all my new friends, and if this was how I felt with not even a year of diabetes-life under my belt, how did they feel with five, ten, twenty, thirty or more years under theirs? Do they still hope, after hearing promises of a cure that turned out to be empty, time after time?

One of the Bible verse I hold closest to my heart is all about hope. I have it stuck on my wardrobe, so it's always there when I need it in my lowest moments:

I'm not saying that having hope is easy. It's not. But I thoroughly believe that everything I go through teaches me more patience. And as that verse says, it makes me a better person day by day. The troubles give me hope.  I believe that there will BE a cure. I don't know whether it'll be in the next ten years, or I won't live to see it. I don't know which generation will know the joy that is brought around by the end of this disease. But I know I want to be part of the generation that is part of the change in the world. I want to, and will do all that I can. On the days that I can't quite manage hope, I will settle for faith, as I don't see them as quite the same. On the good days, they'll walk hand in hand. 

But I'm not ready to give up on either yet. And if you have, whilst I can, I'll take your share and hope for you.