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Sunday, May 27, 2012


I have been at camp for the weekend. Not diabetes camp (35 days!!!), but nonetheless a camp full of friends (but not diabetic ones.) Anyway, I found myself saying a few weird things, and friends ended up joining in.

One friend decided that she didn't like the word 'bolus'. Which is a pretty weird word when you think about it and/or say it more than once. So now, apparently, 'bolus' shall be known as 'insulate'. Or maybe 'inducilin'?

And juice can taste like low blood sugar. There's one particularly exotic flavour of juice (it's tropical punch or something of the sort) that I have only had once before this weekend. That time happened to be a 11pm low (one of those times when I downed the juicebox in 10 seconds flat). So I'm drinking this juicebox at lunch and say 'Hey, this juice tastes like low blood sugar.' Yeah. I didn't really bother explaining.

I got to do a bit of advocacy, and that was cool. (Explaining that no, it didn't hurt, no, I'm not used to it, no, I was fine, no, it's not a real needle, etc, etc.) But the most important thing was that I had fun, ate about six WagonWheels (Best. Junk food. Ever.), and I didn't let diabetes stop me. And I conquered my fear of canoes.

*I am really, really tired. Hence the title. :)

Thursday, May 24, 2012

It's not always the cookies.

I remember bits and pieces of when I was first diagnosed.
Never the whole story all at once, just little random tidbits that don't make sense without context. Like milk with a straw, the nice nurse, and the teddy's fuzzy head.
And the cookies.
My first blood test was in the morning, before school. As said in my stories (here and here), I wasn't taken to the hospital until late at night. I rember the first fingerpoke - the one they took just to make sure I had diabetes like they thought. (It hurt. Darn monstrous hospital machines.) The result was 26 (468), much higher from the 15 (270) of the morning. I remember insisting that it was only that high because I'd had two Girl Guide cookies after school and that I was fine, nothing was wrong. That I could go home, that it was all a mistake.
(Of course, then they tried to explain to me that it was because of diabetes, not the cookies. I didn't believe it for a while.)

Sometimes I have to tell myself that it is because of diabetes, not because of something I did. "I'm low? Must have overbolused." "High? Must have misjudged." No. Sometimes it's just random and there's nothing I can do.
On the contrary, sometimes it is something I did. Maybe I did overbolus, forget to bolus, guess instead of read the carb count.

But no matter what made it happen, I just have to deal with it. And I'm okay with that.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012


Last week - Diabetes Blog Week - was fun.

I've never really written from such specific prompts. It was really neat to see what I could come up with.

But now? I have nothing to say. I can't think of a single interesting thing.

Bubbles (pump) is no longer completely bright and shiny. I guess wearing him on the pocket of my jeans instead of the waistband will do that.
But he's still very bright and shiny and sleek and gorgeous - minus a few invisible screen scratches.
And he still plays Sherlock music.

And Sherlock is over, so that's really all that's on my mind right now. If you watch it and haven't see The Reichenbach Fall - go watch it. If you don't watch the series - go watch it. All of it. You won't regret it. :)

December 2013. I wonder if I can survive that long. XD

Sunday, May 20, 2012

(Diabetes Blog Week) Diabetes Hero.

The final prompt: Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our “Diabetes Hero”. It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire, someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3. It might be a fabulous endo or CDE. It could be a d-celebrity or role-model. It could be another DOC member. It’s up to you – who is your Diabetes Hero??
Heroes are not always muscular guys in spandex and capes. Sometimes they're 945-year-old time lords, sometimes they're high-functioning sociopaths. (Sometimes they're high-functioning-sociopaths's hetero-life partners.) (Sorry.)

Okay, seriously.

When I think of diabetes heroes, I think of everybody in the DOC, everybody that isn't afraid to share their life online. The good days and the bad shared, the blog posts that show that not everybody is perfect. Especially Kerri, whose blog I look at every day for smiles and inspiration.

And then I think of everybody that reads this and supports us, even if they don't understand.

And then there's my parents. They're the ones that wake up in the night to test me, the ones that run to the drug store and buy me strips when I'm out. They're always, always there for me, even if I'm in a teenager-angsty-mood.

And then I think of my doctors, who are super cool. They seem to understand, and even if they don't, they know how to help me.

And then I think of camp. Camp. Is. Amazing. I look forward to it every day, and it's shown me that there are a lot of people who deal with this all the time, people my age who DO know what it's like.

And then I realize that everybody, EVERYBODY, is a diabetes hero. Whether they live with it or deal with it, nearly everybody knows someone. Everybody I know tries to be an advocate, and that in itself is heroism.

So thanks, everyone, for being my diabetes heroes.

And thanks so much, Karen, for organizing this week. This is the most fun I've ever had on this blog.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

(Diabetes Blog Week) Saturday Snapshots.

Alright, I was not prepared for this. Just so you know.

But anyway, here's today's prompt: Back for the third year, let’s show everyone what life with diabetes looks like! With a nod to the Diabetes 365 project, let’s grab our cameras again and share some more d-related pictures. Post as many or as few as you’d like. Feel free to blog your thoughts on or explanations of your pictures, or leave out the written words and let the pictures speak for themselves.

This is my diabetes.

Diabetes is the random bits and pieces you find on the floor of your room.

Diabetes is all the strip containers that you've collected because they are awesome replacements for the now-hard-to-find film canisters.

Diabetes is all the warm and fuzzies from camp that you can't help but smile at. Every time. (They're inside jokes. It's okay.)

 Diabetes is all the cool contraptions and boxes that you kept when you were first diagnosed because they were a little bit of 'hey, this could be cool' that helped you deal with this new life.

Diabetes is a perfectly organized drawer with all your stuff in it. (Not. I tidied it up last week so I could see what was in it. :P And yes, that is a frog.)

Diabetes is the garbage that you find on your headboard after dealing with middle-of-the-night scary things. (Lows, empty cartridge alarms, and dead batteries. Fun stuff.)

Diabetes is the shiny new Bubbles (yes, now Bubbles, because Jim was a bit creepy) that sits on your hip and (to your great pleasure) has no scratches or un-shiny patches [yet].

Diabetes is the piece of paper that you wrote every single setting down on when you switched pumps. Yes, a whole piece of paper.

 And finally [for now], diabetes is the yellow shirts (which will have smileys on them) that you get to make your whole team wear at the Diabetes Walk.

I completely forgot about this and found all these pictures in the space of ten minutes. It's amazing how the little tiny things that make up diabetes are everywhere.

Friday, May 18, 2012

(Diabetes Blog Week) What they should know.

Today's prompt: Today let’s borrow a topic from a #dsma chat held last September. The tweet asked “What is one thing you would tell someone that doesn’t have diabetes about living with diabetes?”. Let’s do a little advocating and post what we wish people knew about diabetes. Have more than one thing you wish people knew? Go ahead and tell us everything.

One thing that I wish people knew about diabetes is that you DON'T get used to it.

That's something I hear a lot. "Doesn't that hurt? Well, I guess you're used to it, so maybe not." It especially annoys me when a different person says the second part. It's like they think that they know how I feel, that they can tell people what it's like.

You don't get used to it. The hurt lessens a lot, and sometimes you stop thinking about it, but the pain doesn't ever really go away. Sometimes my lancet is dull and on too high (how I love you, easy-to-move dial - NOT) and I nearly cry when it goes in because it feels like it's going to go through my finger. Sometimes my site ends up on a nerve and every time I touch it for the next three days I wince. Sometimes my number is way out of wack and I don't know why or how to fix it. Sometimes I need to talk, need support. Sometimes I want everybody to shut up. But I try not to tell people that it does hurt, because everybody thinks I'm brave and can deal with this just fine. There are some days that I just can't.

Yes, it's gotten much better in the last two and a half years. And I'm great with it, most days. It's just that when this comment comes up I want to yell and scream and list off everything that I'm not used to about this disease. Like that I'm still not used to the fact that this is never going away.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

(Diabetes Blog Week) Fantasy Diabetes Device.

Today's prompt really sets up some ideas: Today let’s tackle an idea inspired by Bennet of Your Diabetes May Vary. Tell us what your Fantasy Diabetes Device would be? Think of your dream blood glucose checker, delivery system for insulin or other meds, magic carb counter, etc. etc. etc. The sky is the limit – what would you love to see?

I love my pump. I don't think I would change anything about it, especially now that it's sherlock-tuned. But my meter...
I don't like my meter. At all. I use it because it links with the pump and that's a useful feature, but I really want to use a different one - without having to log all my blood sugars, because a computer printout is easy, if not to understand.

So here's what I would want in a perfect-world meter...
  • Colour. Like the pump, I would love it to be colourful, because silver is drab.
  • Contrast. The screen on my meter is like an old-fashioned digital clock. I can't read it in the dark, sometimes not even after I turn on the in-screen light. (The new ping meter has a contrast screen, but I can't get that one for another few years).
  • Light. At the end of the meter, where the strip goes. So that I could check in the dark without having to blind myself with the big light.
  • Size. My meter is huge - it's bigger than my pump. And while I appreciate all that it does, I wish it could be smaller. Like my old AccuChek Aviva - that was tiny. And cute. I like that.
  • Cooler case. Other than black. Like the pump cases. Also one that could be inconspicuous, maybe that I could clip to my hip when I don't want to carry a purse.
  • Accuracy. Because sometimes, I don't believe my meter.
  • Although this might be stretching it a bit: A message feature, so I could for example ask my friend if she has juice. That would be cool.
  • Options for sound. Like the option to stop the beeps (and maybe replace it with something more fun? Like it could sing Sherlock every time I checked...)
  • A pager. A tiny little pager inside it, so that I could just press a pump button and I would be able to find it. (Actually, everything in my life needs one of these.)
  • Connection to the pump. Not for bolus - although that is useful - but for blood sugar reports. Right now I can plug in my pump and everything comes up.
That is my dream meter. Everybody talks about accuracy being the first thing on their list, and I guess that's important, but please don't think of me in a bad way when I say colour comes close to the top. I want my meter to look good because when it's pretty, I enjoy using it. (I'm not as shallow as this makes me sounds. Promise.) But I figure, if I have to live with this thing anyway, it might as well look good.

But I guess I'll continue using the one I have. For now. Although lately my eye has been caught by the IBGstar and the VerioIQ - anyone know anything about these?

Fresh start. And a goodbye.

My Little Buddy is gone. He will be mailed back to Animas today.

R.I.P., Little Buddy.

But you know what? My new pump is gorgeous. None of these silly little scratches. (And his brightness button works!) Nope, he's sleek, shiny, looks like a phone, and plays sherlock theme  music.

That wasn't a typo. Sherlock. Theme. Music. Yes.

I think I'll get along fine with my new buddy. I just have to get to know him - for the moment his name is Jim (I think. It doesn't appear to be working though. Ideas?).

And it would appear he's more effective - the first thing that happened last night after I'd been on him for a little while was I went low. Interesting.

Anyway, with this new guy - at least for a little while - I'm going to make an effort to use him, like I said yesterday.

Yep. Goodbye Little Buddy, but hellooo new guy!

Wednesday, May 16, 2012


My new pump came today. I haven't set it up yet because frankly, that would mean I have to think. (Well, I suppose that's my excuse. I don't want to leave my Little Buddy.)

It's black and very pretty. It has yet to come out of the box.

I suppose I should get off the internet and go do that before Little Buddy actually dies.


Although I was very impressed with Animas' service. They phoned at quarter to 11 and the pump was in our hands (well, my mum's - I was at school) at quarter after 12. That's impressive.

Anyway. I'll miss him, but I'll be good. (I just have to admit to myself that they are not animate.)

And now my new pump needs a name...

(Diabetes Blog Week) One thing to improve.

Today's prompt: Yesterday we gave ourselves and our loved ones a big pat on the back for one thing we are great at. Today let’s look at the flip-side. We probably all have one thing we could try to do better. Why not make today the day we start working on it. No judgments, no scolding, just sharing one small thing we can improve so the DOC can cheer us on!

One thing. Only one? Hm. There are a lot of things that I could be doing better. But one thing to focus on today... *thinks*
I am going to pay attention to my pump. I tend to forget that he's there, that I can use him to help me control this. So I will whip him out to bolus before I eat, as soon as I see an out-of-range number, use him to count the carbs accurately, and, because I'll miss him when he's gone, I will try not to run him into walls. I will also bolus what he says I should and not what I think I should.

He's there for my benefit. So one thing I could improve on is use him to my benefit.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

(Diabetes Blog Week) One Great Thing.

Here's today's prompt: Living with diabetes (or caring for someone who lives with it) sure does take a lot of work, and it’s easy to be hard on ourselves if we aren’t “perfect”. But today it’s time to give ourselves some much deserved credit. Tell us about just one diabetes thing you (or your loved one) does spectacularly! Fasting blood sugar checks, oral meds sorted and ready, something always on hand to treat a low, or anything that you do for diabetes. Nothing is too big or too small to celebrate doing well!

I am not perfect.
And that is a hard thing to admit to myself, because I am a perfectionist.
Right after my diagnosis I was doing everything on time, checking BGs all day (with perfect results), and only treating lows with juice, even changing lancets every so often.
But now, not so much. I forget to bolus, to check, to stop eating when I'm low. I also scrape or bump my pump more than once a day - that probably doesn't help in the fact that he has to be replaced. And I only change the lancet when it starts to hurt because it's dull.

One thing that I think I do well, though, is I don't worry.
It used to be that if I went to bed lower than 7 (126), I would freak. Now I'm good, even at 5 (90). (If it goes lower than that, I worry a tiny bit.) When I'm high, I correct it and go on with things.
If it's big, like my site gets ripped out and I can't get home for the next four hours, or I run out of insulin and I have none to replace it, then I worry. (But there's other times when it's just hilarious.)

But I try not to let the little things bother me. And that's important in day-to-day life. That's my one great thing.

Monday, May 14, 2012

(Diabetes Blog Week) Find A Friend.

Here's today's prompt: It seems the most popular thing about Diabetes Blog Week is that it helps us find blogs we weren’t reading yet and connect with some new blog friends. With that in mind, let’s kick off Diabetes Blog Week by making some new connections. Think about the d-blogs you read that you think we may not know about and introduce us to one that you love!! Let’s all find a new friend today!

I don't read a lot of diabetes blogs. I read Six Until Me, and occasionally a few that link off of there.
I read all my friends' blogs, but none of them are diabetic and they never post anything anymore.
So really, I need to get more involved in the DOC (Diabetes Online Community).

When I started this blog, I really didn't expect anyone to read it. The only thing on here was a presentation that my teacher thought deserved recognition. And thus began this blog.
At first, I thought out, planned, and edited each and every post. And I only posted things that were huge; the presentation, the story, the WDD awareness. But since I made that promise to myself, I've been using this as a medium to express myself. No planning or thinking - just being who I am.
I don't have a lot any DOC friends because there are very few teens with diabetes who blog. Our lives are just too full of ourselves. :P
I'm also one of those silent lurkers who doesn't comment on anything but still wants to be recognized. But now, I feel like I'm starting to come out of my shell. Participating this week was a big leap.

So I need to find some friends. And hopefully this week will let me do that.

Actually, looking back at this post before publishing it, I realized that maybe I have found one friend. Kerri, at Six Until Me, inspires me every day and is an awesome role model. Her blog was the first real-people diabetes-related thing that I read, and I've never gone back. So although she may not know it, she is a really good friend. Thanks.

And because I am going to find a friend this week, here's a list of all the D-Blog Week participants.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Happy Mother's Day.

To all the mums of T1s out there, but especially mine,

Thank you. You're always there for us.
When we run out of supplies, you'll always run down to the drugstore to grab some.
When our pump malfunctions, you'll be the one on the phone trying to fix it.
You're always the one spending hours trying to figure out basals, boluses, and numbers.
You were the ones that cuddled us when we cried at our diagnosis.
We know that you will always be ready.

Have you seen the 'Thanks mom' commercial? "She's the hands. She's the feet. She's the body without a head." It's like that. You're not always in the forefront of our minds, but you're always, always there for us.
Whether it's with a hug, a smile, or a middle-of-the-night blood sugar check, you're always quick to help.

So thanks, Mum. You're the best.

Friday, May 11, 2012

How in the world did I forget?

It was Little Buddy's birthday yesterday. And I completely forgot.
I guess that it just goes to show how little I think of it, how far back diabetes is in my mind.
Which is a good thing, I guess, except I felt really bad when I remembered.

And apparently I need a new pump because there are many unfixable problems with my lil' bud. This just about breaks my heart - did he decide to die because I forgot to acknowledge him?

He's not gone yet and I'll hold him until the very end. For the remainder of our days I shall cherish him and when he is finally gone there will be a moment of silence.

And then I'll go on with my life with a new buddy. Who will need a new name. And a new colour - blue, black, or silver? (Or I might even consider green or pink?)

(There was a certain amount of sarcasm here. The thing is, I'm not sure how much.)

Anyway, happy belated birthday, Buddy, and you will be missed.

Diabetes Blog Week. With a side of courage.

Next week is Diabetes Blog Week. I've heard of this before - in passing - and never had the courage to participate. (Drumroll please) But this year, I will. I have just signed up and I'm looking forward to posting with prompts.
I realised that I may as well be as out there as I can be, because this blog is part of my voice. And advocacy is a good thing - but I need to be more courageous to be an advocate. So I will.

I heard about this through Six until Me (which is really the only place I learn diabetes online stuff from). I'm eager to write, because that's one of the things I like to do and am fairly good at, and the organizer knits - so really, how bad can it be? :P

If you'd like to participate, or even if you just want more information, it's here.

And now I'm off to school, to see my friends once more! (It sounds much better if you think of that in a 'We're off to see the wizard' tune. Like our song at camp that I wrote with my friend: We're off to see the doctors/the wonderful doctors of camp...' ) :)

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Pressure. And talking to inanimate objects.

Wow. There are actually people seeing this. And it makes me feel...important, like that total strangers actually care. So thanks, everyone, for really boosting my self-confidence.

Except now I feel that I should be like the 'model teenage diabetic', because it feels like people are examplifying me (which makes me feel super special!), like that this will matter somehow.
But you know what? I'm just going to be myself, because making yourself out to be someone you aren't is never a good idea. :) So if you see anything ridiculous on here, just smile and realise that this is me and nobody can do anything about it. (And also realise that right now I am completely obsessed with Sherlock and I am not seeing an end anytime soon. Fellow Sherlockians - unite! And if you're not one of us, you should be. :P)

And now for our feature presentation...

(This is what I actually planned on posting about).

I hate it when my pump decides to spontaneouly empty its cartridge. I mean, 10 units lasts a long time. I never remember after the low cartridge warning has gone off.

So here I am, sitting in front of the computer, accidentally stumbling upon amazingly hilarious stuff (Sherlock-related, of course) and my pump decides to buzz at me. And it's not even the pretty music that I set. No, it has to be an annoying 'na na na na-na na'. Monotonous. Bor-ing! (Coulda got them anywhere! Tee hee) Anyway, so I tell it to shut up. Out loud. Because that's what I do. (As I say, he's a him.) And after this happens multiple times (the internet stuff was funny - I love the internet. But hate it. At the same time.) my mum thinks it's funny. I don't really realise that I'm talking to an inanimate object - he's like an annoying friend that just deserves a  'shut up' face.

Yep. I've been telling my Little Buddy to shut up for the last half hour. And everybody thinks it's absolutely hilarious.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012


To cure diabetes, that is. I signed up today for the Telus JDRF 2012 Walk to Cure Diabetes. This will be my third year participating and my second as part of a team, Maryna's Smiles. My fundraising goal is $1000 and the goal for the event as a whole is 7.9 million dollars.

Every penny counts, so much so. JDRF is helping with research and now human clinical trials to find ways to cure, treat and prevent diabetes.

Please pass this on. If you would like more information, here is my fundraising page:

It's not just the money, but the advocacy as well.

Thank you to everyone out there. I know now that there are people reading this because the hit count jumped to 1015. (!!!) Thank you so, so much for listening, for helping my voice, and the voice of diabetes, to be strong.

And one last thing - I need something to think about besides Sherlock. :) Any ideas?

Friday, May 4, 2012

And I was so happy...

Diabetes portrayed on TV is usually bad. (With some exceptions - there's these three posts about Body of Proof :P). The aforementioned was the last diabetes-related show I'd seen, so I was happy.

Until I saw Touch.

Amazing show - DON'T GET ME WRONG. I won't explain it - too many numbers - relatively cohesive explanation here. Kiefer Sutherland included. :)
Anyways, last week's episode (maybe? I'm watching it PVRed) made me sad.

Guy, unconscious, on the floor. (I thought he was dead for the whole commercial break). Main character (Kiefer) finds him. Calls 911, then the last number on unconscious guy's phone. Phone-guy tells Kiefer that unconscious-guy is diabetic. (Hope blossoms). Of course, when phone-guy says "Syringe in fridge..." I'm thinking glucagon, right? Nope. "There's a syringe of insulin in the fridge. Inject it." GRR! Kiefer does, in the forearm no less, and unconscious-guy wakes up. Right away. We flip back to him after a character switch (multiple points of view on this show) and he's perfectly fine, the paramedics leave - no hospital visit - and then, formerly-unconscious-guy is seen drinking juice. Perfectly cohesive a healthy - wow, it's like the diabetes just dissappeared! (I wish!)

Why?!?! TV was on such a good streak. :(
Ah well. I'll just go watch Sherlock and practice my Moriarty. (Two days!!!)

(Sorry for all the brackets. :D)

Thursday, May 3, 2012

More sense.

A lot of things make more sense when you do them twice. Like Sherlock. (Amazing TV show. Watch it. BBC orignally, everywhere else as well. New season Sunday. CAN'T. WAIT. Also, all the male actors manage to be incredibly amazing, made more so by their sexy english and english-irish accents. Gotta love it.) Anyways, it's a show that you really have to pay attention to. And when you watch it again you see all the important little details, like the chinese ninja-like lady spies taking sneaky pictures. (1.2. The Blind Banker. Not the best).
I digress. My point is that the more you are around it, the more sense it makes. School. Math. A new language. Friends. Boys. (Actually, that one's quite a stretch. And they complain about us women?) Facebook, too.
But diabetes? Nope. As soon as you think it makes sense, there's just another twist that makes you rethink the whole thing. Even after two years, there's no way to predict it, no way to control it perfectly, no way to remember everything. (Like insulin.)
Yep. No more sense here.
Now, excuse me as I go back to watching the most amazing show ever made.