Devoted reader,

I apologise profusely for my slackness in keeping the world updated with the progress of life with dearest Kate and Lance-a-lot, but I am troubled.

I’ve had significant issues in getting in contact, with only one short phonecall to Lance last month, and quickly catching Kate before she shot out the door yesterday. All I can tell you is that they are alive. Admittedly, though, Lance sounded in good spirits when I spoke with him

Meanwhile, there’s not a great deal I can tell you at this point from a diabetes perspective, but, there is another event close to my heart coming up soon:

Next week, May 11-17, is ME/CFS Awareness Week, and Dan and I plan to go along to the event organised in NSW, the Creative For A Second art tour.

As always, donations to both the ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome Society and JDRF are greatly appreciated by all people involved.

I hope to be able to update you with more soon!

Janek

Things ain’t looking good for Lance.

He has been going to bed everynight at 2am,  because he is in SUCH agony and discomfort with his feet and legs.Massage, warmth, paracaetamol, ibufrofen…I may as well be giving him M&M’s and rolling clingwrap around his legs.

I am so sleep deprived- if a sentence doesn’t make sense, please forgive me.

I took Lance to the doctor today. The doctor saw him and sitting on the chair, and said, ‘Your legs still hurting, Lance? The way you are sitting..they look, they look very heavy.”

We both nodded with bleary eyes. Lance isn’t coping with the sleep deprivation either.

I got a letter from the podiatrist today spelling out the hard, cold , agonising truth.

Catergory 1 (at risk) – “Neuropathy, no deformity-Patient is 1.7 times more likely to develop  an ulcer than person of equivalent age with no diabetes. 6 monthly podiatry reviews required…..”

Sensory Test-”Monofilaments showed neuropathy was present with loss of monofilament sensation up to the knees….”

“My differencial diagnosis consists of  SYMMETRICAL POLYNEUROPATHY….”

“Some suggestions would be Capasaicin, Oral Thioctic Acid, Tricyclic antidepressants, anticonvulsants, transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation (TENS), Acupuncture…..”

“Given Lance’s age, I feel that due to the potential side effects the antidepressants and the anticonvulsants be kept at a last resort.”

 Dr Congo took one look at Lance, and picked up his telephone. He dialled a neurologist whose books are full for an entire  four months. By the end of the consult with Dr Congo, we had an appointment for Saturday!!!

However, the not-that-great news, is that Lance has to start a course of Endep. As much as I battled to try and avoid any oral medications, I realised that we were both floundering about in quicksand. I need sleep to keep him well and pain free, and  take care of his diabetes. He needs sleep, because, at eight years old, five hours sleep is no where NEAR enough.

Endep is an ancient tricyclic antidepressant, which is also effectively used for the relief of chronic pain. He had his first tablet, a shower, and his dinner. I asked him a question, and 40 minnutes later, I could see his tonsils vibrating. Finally, his little body lay still, his legs relaxed, his feet…his beautiful feet looked so clean and just like the did when he was a baby.

Amatriptyline..otherwise known as Endep.

I made the obligatory calls to his team and I spoke to our regular endocrinologist’s partner. He listened in disbelief as I told him about the mornings events.

“Kate, you must rip the script up, I  think you should consider getting a new GP for Lance.”

 Somewhat puzzled, I asked “why???”, and he said, ”Well, he’s prescibed a low dose narcotic here to an eight year old, do you really want your son with a prescription drug dependency??”

(Turns out Doofus the Enodocrinologist was thinking of Endone, not Endep. (Endone is taken for severe pain, and is often referred to as “Hillbilly Heroin”, as you can get it for bupkus on a script, and apparently have a whale of a time if that’s what does it for you-it basically mimics heroin, but in the pharmaceutical tablet variety.)

I held that Endep script in my hand for so long, wondering if I should hold out until I saw the neurologist on Saturday. I took alook at Lance, who could have been a poster boy for “Antz in your Pantz”, and decided then and therefore it was up to me to provide him some relief, despite what the critics thought.With a heavy heart, and a few streams of  tears, I took the packet from the the pharmacist. If this really is Peripheral Neuropathy without medication or treatment, I will never complain about Diabetes again. (I know, what a crock.)

Can I ask you all to keep him in your thoughts this week? He has been suffering in silence for ages now, simply because he thought it was “normal” to feel like this.

After his Nerve Conductive Test on Saturday, we will have a LOT more answers, and possibly a positive direction which way to go…

Again, I IMPLORE of you, just because you have a young child, or a teenager, or a twenty-something, does not MEAN a thing if you ain’t got that swing. Any symptoms such as painful legs, heavy limbs, pins and needles to the excress, no feeling in the extremities, unusually hot or cold feet, GET IT CHECKED OUT. Demand a test for PN, even if you get scoffed at by your family GP. A Podiatrist has all of the equipment to conduct the tests,and provide answers.

Having diabetes isn’t JUST all about AIC’ testing, eye checks, the annual urine sample…there are so many parts of the body that it affects. After being diagnosed for 5 years, go ahead and make the steps to organise the appointments yourself, EVEN if your GP tells you they are”‘not necessary.”

I just checked on my Lance. For the first time in months, he is sleeping peacefully, His legs are still. His face is relaxed, and not grimacing in agony.

Despite my hesitation regarding him starting the medication, I now know I did the right thing.

I’m going to follow him to bed, for the first time in years.

Goodnight!! (And it’s been a long time since I have said that, too!)

Lance and I both developed a  soft spot for a totally-kid friendly American game show,  “Don’t Forget The Lyrics.”

I have a thing for the host…he’s an African American thirty-something hunk named Wayne Brady, who can sing, and is so passionate and eager for the guest to climb the money ladder-Lance is intrigued by the rather eccentric guests that attempt to win a million dollars by replacing the words or phrases of obscure or well-known songs.

I have  a photographic memory when it comes to song lyrics, and Lance has caught on to the fact that if I auditioned for the US show, that I may have a chance of winning the jackpot.

Tonight, we sat gobsmacked, as the host Wayne Brady announced who the Celebrity Guest would be.

Bret Michaels, lead singer of metal band, Poison, announced how he was a fan of the show, and that any money he won would not be going in his own pocket, but a place very close to his and all of our hearts.

The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. (JDRF.)

Bret Michaels has had Type 1 Diabetes for 22 years, diagnosed at 7 years of age.

Lance’s mouth was still wide open as he heard the singer speak about his life on injections. It was probably the first time he had heard a famous male speak so honestly about living with their shared condition.

Bret Michaels won $200 000 for …..

The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. (JDRF.)

Congratulations, Bret, for sharing your life story with young children, and more importantly, raising US$200 000!!

I have to admit that I am hardly a Poison fan…lol…but I will never forget the night that I watched some hope  for a cure with my son , delivered in the shape of the Bret Michaels.

I haven’t been dealing very well with Lance’s diagnosis of peripheral neuropathy.

I have not been able to write, nor look at my blog since Lanc’e’s birthday on the 23 November. (He loved his Lego truck btw, I was the coolest Mum in the World that day.)

I am really numb.

I had to write tonight, because I am getting NO support from Lance’s medical team.

Once again, I find myself alone.

Lance mentioned some symptoms to me in late October that made m ears prick up. After a consult with his GP, I had a referral in my hand  for a podiatrist, specialising in Diabetes complications.

She diagnosed Peripheral Neuropathy after the first examination she performed.

Even though I was almost positive that he may have it, I had been brainwashed over the years by specialists, diabetes educators and other people with diabetes  that PN would NEVER happen to a child.

 The podiatrist wrote to Lance’s endocrinologist, who was on leave. (again.) I received a phone call from his colleague, who wanted to discuss with me the findings of the examination.

“We just don’t see it. We don’t. Kids Lance’s age and PN just don’t go together.”

I mentioned the symptoms that Lance was experiencing.

“Oh listen, If I tested for peripheral neuropathy everytime a child mentioned leg pain, I’d be showered with gold by the Podiatry Association.”

Right.

Nevermind that EVERY NIGHT, I sit and scrub Lance’s feet with a loofah while he showers, in an attempt to stimulate circulation.

I take him for a walk down our street on the footpath, and back  up again.

I massage his feet and legs with vigour for at least 15 minutes a night.

Why do I do this?

Not because I was told that Lance has PN.

Not because I am trying some revolutionary new concept to relieve the symptoms.

I HAVE to do it, because to watch my child in so much distress and racked with foreign sensations of burning,hot, aching feet leaves me paralysed with fear for his future.

At around midnight, or on a really bad night, Lance will eventually drop off to sleep at 1am, usually with his feet anywhere but where they should be.

I massage for up to 90 minutes. The second I stop, he begins to thrash about in the bedsheets. We pace together up the hallway. We scrunch our toes up together-we play foot wars-where we sit opposite each other and place our feet together and push..it’s just all about his feet.

One night, in desperation, I called the after-hours endo.

(I can barely force myself to write this sentence.)

“Hmm, a dose of Panadol should settle those feelings down. Give that a shot.”

I made another appointment for Lance with our GP. He was devastated by the diagnosis. He also received a letter from the podiatrist. He was shocked and saddened by her findings, but assured me that we would receive his full support to help find something to relieve Lance’s noctural misery.

I was somewhat comforted by his words, but I was a woman on a mission.

“Dr Congo, I want another opinion. I am getting no support from his team, and anyone that should be able to provide words of support ends up scoffing at the very thought that I could suggest PN is responsible for Lance’s “condition.”

He said, “Oh Kate, no, you don’t need…”

“Yes, yes we do. We need another opinion so that his endo and educators will take this diagnosis seriously, and offer some support and advice treatment more appropriate  than PANADOL to treat this discomfort.”

He nodded his head,  clicked a few buttons on his computer, and scrolled down a long list of names.

“There is a podiatrist that specialises in the  treatment and diagnosis of PN. The only problem is that he’s about 90 minutes away.”

“Great. We’ll take it. Can you please write a referral for Lance?”

He knew not to talk me out of it. He turned and faced his computer and began to punch out the words with a finger from each hand.

I was able to get an appointment four days later.

This podiatrist is such a feet expert, I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he doesn’t have a kinky foot fetish.

He conducted the prick test, and again, the same devastating results were apparent to him.

“Do you get weak or tired legs during the day, Lance?”

“Sometimes, but it’s mainly just the pins-and-needles and the heat that make me anxious.”

A tear rolled down my face as I heard my son describe this condition as making him feel “anxious.”

He is EIGHT years old. He shouldn’t even know what the word means.

I shifted to a chair beside the examination recliner where Lance sat. I  slipped my hand into Lance’s, and felt that familiar, knowing squeeze. My own son knows that he’s in trouble, yet, because of the intensity of our relationship, he can recognise when I am distressed. I looked up and his eyes twinkled as he gave me a sympathetic smile.

Not a sympathetic smile aimed at the fact that he was having tests conducted by a concerned looking specialist, nor the fact that he was having another foot examination, but a sympathetic smile for me. He knows that I haven’t been dealing well with the diagnosis.

Anyway, the podiatrist sent Lance out to the receptionist and asked her to get out his son’s XBox for him to play whilst he delivered the verdict.

“Okay, Lance does have peripheral neuropathy. There’s no doubt about that. He has significant nerve damage in his left foot, more so than his right. I will be contacting his doctors’ and requesting that he commence oral medication, and that you begin using the topical capsicum cream immediately. I also want him to begin acupuncture on a regular basis. This is going to take a huge commitment from you to teach him how to take care of his feet. Everyday from now on is imperative to maintain tight blood sugar levels, and to get those clogged up areas in his feet replenished with healthy, nourishing blood”.

I nodded, unable to speak, even though I had heard it all before.

This made it REAL. The doctor’s would have no choice but to take notice now.

Lance was in ignorant bliss with the receptionist: he was in the middle of a Star Wars game. The podiatrist spoke about how he believed a Western medicine approach with a little natural therapy intergrated would provide Lance with significant relief.

Call Number 2 to the Endocrinologist. Still on leave.

I had to re-tell the entire story to the endocrine registrar.

“Hmm, right. Okay. We’ll we can start on that medication, yes.”

“Oh, how heavy is Lance?”

“He’s about 32 kilograms.”(67 pounds.)

“Umm..how much did you say? 32?”

“That’s correct.”

“How old is Lance?”

“He has just turned eight years old.”

“Oh.”

“I think the best thing to do, is to call in to your pharmacist on the way home, and grab a tube of DeepHeat. That will provide amazing relief.”

My face turned as red as Rudolph’s nose.

“Yeah. I have used Deep Heat on an old netball injury. It did  JACK.”

I began to sob.

“JUST BECAUSE HE DOESN’T FIT THE  MOULD OF THE TYPICAL DIABETIC WITH PERIPHERAL NEUROPATHY DOESN’T MEAN HE DOESN’T HAVE IT!!” I hissed.

“I just think..that we leave it for a little while, and rule out whether it may be growing pains.”

(Ever seen Terms Of Endearment? Where Shirley McLaine goes absolutely nutso at the duty nurse because she won’t  give her dying daughter pain relief?? I transgressed into Shirley momentarily.)

“YOU! YOU LIVE OUT OF A MEDICAL TEXTBOOK! GET MY SON THE MEDICATION HE HAS BEEN TOLD TO TAKE!!! THE PODIATRIST CAN’T WRITE A SCRIPT FOR IT, SO I HAVE TO SIT AND GROVEL TO YOU FOR ONE. I HAVE LIVED EVERY SECOND OF THE PAST SIX YEARS WITH LANCE, AND I HAVE SEEN HIS BLOOD SUGARS SWING FROM 1.9mmol/L to 32.9mmol/L AND BACK AGAIN TWICE IN A DAY. NOT ONCE OR TWICE, BUT HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF TIMES.  WHAT I HAVE BEEN FEARING HAS HAPPENED BEFORE MY EYES, AND I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE TELLING ME TO BUY DEEP HEAT?” The phone slipped through my fingers, and I kicked it so that it slammed into the wall. (I’m not proud of that behaviour. I guess having your diabetes team doubt the diagnosis of a complication plus night after night of early morning massage has the ability to send one slightly off the rails.)

Anyway, we are having regular acupuncture sessions, as well as using a topical cream which is helping more than it isn’t. We have embarked on an exercise program aimed at getting plenty of circulation to the feet, and lower leg area.

Besides having people compare Lance’s condition to feelings  they may have had that turned out to be “absolutely nothing”, I have been working hard at trying to accept that I now have to deal with IDDM, Coeliac Disease and now PN.

After much research, I know that PN can be halted, and even reversed. It’s going to take a lot of extra work, but if  I can save my son from going through any more trauma or pain in his life, then I’d turn myself inside out to do it.

I was always aware of peripheral neuropathy. I guess I feared it because I knew just how much Lance had hideous blood sugar control as a baby and a toddler. It wasn’t until we switched from Protophane to Levemir two years ago that I realised  just how terrible his  control had been.

So, I guess I am asking you to do the same.

 If you are a parent of a child with diabetes, and they have been diagnosed for at least five years, HAVE their feet checked by a doppler test (like an ultrasound.) Never underestimate Diabetes. Never put all your hopes in what the doctor’s tell you. Follow your gut feeling;  and, if you ARE worried, don’t take “Don’t Worry” for an answer. This isn’t meant to induce fear or more concern, but if I had listened to the “experts”, I would still be believing that Lance had a stupendously elongated case of growing pains. When your life is shared with type 1 Diabetes, a good mantra to live by is, ”Be alert and stay aware.” (I was going to write ”and stay on your toes”, but it didn’t seem appropriate for this post.)

 You are responsible for your child, and if you request an investigation, you are doing what a good parent does-and follows through with something that could inevitably affect your child for the rest of their lives.

I have contacted JDRF Australia, to do a story about Lance’s diagnosis. I don’t want to scare people, but I think it’s high time that diabetes specialists stop with the “cure in 10 years” and “chance of complications are very rare at his age” chitchat and provide some preventative techniques and up-to-date education for parents.

No one likes hearing the truth about what  effects Diabetes can have on the rest of the body. Strangely enough, when I sat Lance down after his birthday, and explained why he had hot and burning feet amd pins and needles regularly, he replied, “Hmm. I knew it had something to do with Diabetes. I guess I’m really lucky I have my pump then.”

Diabetes cannot and should not be sugarcoated any longer.

After abandoning my blog for 19 days, I felt I had to address the emotional upheaval and grief that has tormented me this November.

Firstly, I must thank my brother, Janek, for taking hold of the reigns and stepping into the shoes of a writer who focuses on issues concerning type 1 diabetes. He is a truly wonderful person-if you would like to learn more about Janek and his adventures, his blog, The Engineer Also Muses is always an excellent read.

This has been our November.

1November 2008: Lance has shared his life with type 1 diabetes for six years. The first two “anniversaries” I was a sobbing mess. The following two, I made sure that we paid homage to the gift of insulin by having a small celebration. This year, the words, “When he’s been diagnosed for over five years, you’ll need to keep your eye out for complications” resonated through me each time I inhaled, and exhaled. We made a very bland vanilla cake. Balloons and celebrating the worst day of my life weren’t appropriate this year.

1-19 November, 2008: Lance’s symptoms of hot, burning feet at night have not improved or slowed down. Our GP wrote a referral to a Podiatrist specialising in Diabetes Complications. I was able to get Lance and appointment very quickly. We are in a ridiculous sleep pattern at the moment, with Lance unable to sleep until close to midnight, and struggling to wake up by 8.30am the next morning in time for breakfast and school. Not to mention my glassy eyes with unflattering bags big enough to accommodate an around-the-world trip. I have found myself falling asleep at my desk and even while waiting for the oven bell to sound. I don’t know how horses can bare to sleep standing..

We had an early appointment on a Monday morning. Despite my fatigue, I actually took half a valium tablet before we left, because despite EVERYONE telling me that there was no possible way that Lance could have Peripheral Neuropathy, my gut told me otherwise.

Gut was right.

Helen, the podiatrist, was actually two years my junior in primary school. Once we established that we knew each other as children, I told her about the past six years living with Diabetes, and the incredible year I got to spend with Lance before his diagnosis.

She began her examination. (As far as Lance knows, all kids have to have their feet checked to make sure they are growing properly. I don’t want to mention complications or anything negative until the most important day of the year is over.)

 November 23-Lance’s 8th birthday.

He climbed up on a modern black leather chair that was operated by remote control. He seemed suitably impressed. Helen asked him if he would mind wearing a blindfold, while she conducted the “prick test.” Lance, ever the perfect patient, nodded enthusiastically and held out his hand for the eye cover.

Helen examined Lance’s feet, and asked him to point to where the heat mainly came from.

“Do you get pins and needles often, Lance?”

“YEAH! Everyday.”

“When you’re playing on the floor or sitting with your legs crossed?”

“Sometimes when I’m on the floor playing Lego, other times when I’m at my desk doing homework. It just depends, really.”

“Okay then Lance. I want you to say “YES” or raise your hand when you feel a little sting. I’m just going to use something that looks like a nail file to see how sensitive your feet are.”

“Okay then.” He sat back in the chair, totally relaxed. I was on the end of mine, almost hyperventilating.

Helen began prodding the sharp corner of a file into the soles of his feet. She moved to the top of his foot, testing each toe, moving up to the ankle, and then slowly progressing up his calf. When she got to behind his knee, he was startled and let out a loud, “YOW!!!”

No feeling in his feet….

No feeling in his legs…

Helen couldn’t quite look me in the eye. She picked up a stainless steel tool that resembled a spiked vibrator. She went over all of the same spots that she did with the file. This time, he could feel the deep vibrations, and he had his hand up  the for almost the entire part of this examination.

Helen pressed a few buttons on the chair, so that Lance was sitting upright. She removed his blindfold.

She sat down on her chair, and clasped her hands together.

“What we’re looking at is Peripheral Neuropathy. I used a file on his feet and legs that I would use on an adult, so I was expecting him to be hollering. The good news is that he has feeling deep in his feet, as he responded very well to the vibration test. I’m going to conduct a doppler test, which basically means that I will be listening to blood flow in his feet to make sure it’s nice and strong.”

Peripheral Neuropathy. I was still in deep shock at watching my son completely unresponsive to having a sharp file dug into his flesh.

She smeared some blueish gel onto his ankles, and then endeavoured to find the pulse in his feet. A slight frown appeared on her forehead. My stomach was churning over and over, I had a pulse pounding away in my temples. Finally, she found a faint pulse close to his ankle.

“That’s a lot deeper than I would like it to be. It’s quite faint, and..well, we’ll do the other foot.”

What I had been secretly fearing was unfurling right before my eyes.

The pulse in the other foot was much easier to find, and it was strong, and the bloodflow was normal.

I asked what we could do about the symptoms. She said that she would write to Lance’s endo and ask whether he would prefer Lance to commence oral medication or to use topical preparations.

“I don’t want to scare you, but there has been damage done. The good news is that Lance spoke up early, and you pushed for a podiatry assessment, and now that we know that he has PN, we can work at halting any further damage, and he’s at such an advantage being on an insulin pump.”

“I need you to be totally honest with me, Helen, I want to know everything, so I can learn about the best way to help him.”

“I haven’t had a lot of experience in paediatric podiatry, with diabetic complications, I mean. I have some phone calls to make to your team, and some letters to write just confirming my findings.”

I gave her the phone numbers and addresses that she would need to pass the news onto Lance’s Diabetes Educator and endocrinologist. She clasped my hand.

“I am so sorry, Kate. It’s not the worst news, but it’s certainly not what you want to be dealing with at this age.”

Precisely.

We are now, more than ever, working hard to stay in the 4-8mmol/L range.

I have become even more of a Shoes-Outside-Always-Nazi, so much so that I loathe the sound of my own voice. I am constantly sweeping up small, sharp pieces of Lego. I loofah Lance’s feet in the shower every night to improve circulation. I massage with such force that my own hands feel bruised the next day. If I massage his feet the way I used to, he can’t feel it anymore.

Lance is taking a Vitamin B1 Supplement (Thiamin) which is supposed to allieviate the unpleasant sensations that accompany PN. I have to wait for his endocrinologist to return for holidays before I get his verdict about treatment.

I will write more about the reactions I have received about the diagnosis in my next post. I really just wanted to let people who have been kind enough to enquire about Lance know that despite my initial devastation, I’m trying to think of it as just an area of his diabetes care that I’m tightening up on.

The Staff at Lance’s school all wore blue on World Diabetes Day at his request. He wrote an email to his teacher, letting him know that it wasn’t a day for donations, but a day to create awareness.

My good friend, Amy Leverington, was chosen to climb Mount Kosciuszko (Australia’s highest mountain) on the morning on World Diabetes Day to watch the sun rise. Amy has achieved so much already, through putting together her funky anime blood sugar diaries, that have no smacks of Diabetes or bsl readings about them whatsoever. She is currently working on a unisex pump diary-stay tuned!

Our next big appointment is at the end of November-we have to pay a visit to an opthamologist.

My brother, Janek celebrated his 23rd birthday on the 16 November. I’ve already wished him a happy birthday, but I’ll do it again in writing..HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JANEK!! You can pop by The Engineer Also Muses and pay your regards if you care to do so!

One year ago, my dear friend Joel, who lived a life riddled with chronic pain and depression, passed away in his sleep at the age of 32. The pain of his absence is so strong, yet I experience a great sense of relief knowing that he never has to endure a painful, difficult day again.

Joel was buried on my the day that my own angel came into the world eight years earlier. 

Lance, my only child and best friend celebrates his 8th birthday on Sunday.

We’ll be sure to make the readers who have grown to admire Lance’s bravery and wisdom part of his special day, by having the birthday boy in person post about his special day.

November will always be rollercoaster of emotions. With my son’s birth, my life became fulfilled and watching him live was simply an extraordinary experience.

With my son’s diagnosis, he was robbed of his innocence and freedom. Again, my world had a huge shift, and it still leaves me rattled on the odd occasion.

And again, the new diagnosis of Peripheral Neuropathy in November. We arrested the condition early, but it has left me so exposed and aware as to the impact type 1 diabetes can have on the body. It’s a very hard concept to address, especially when you have others around you suggesting that it couldn’t possibly be Neuropathy. I would do anything to say “It’s all been a huge mistake! I was wrong!”  However, as a mother to Lance, and to his diabetes, I just knew. We went through enough wild fluctuations when he was three/four to know that his entire body had worked very hard to keep functioning for that very difficult stage.

Also, I am waiting for the return of my laptop. It is in Sydney, currently being repaired. I was lucky enough to borrow one overnight so that I could catch up on November.

I have all of my attention focused on The Birthday. I did good with getting what he wanted. I need to see the rapture in his smile to help me begin to heal.

It’s only just over three months away until the 6th annual  JDRF “Ride For A Cure” takes place.

The Hugely Successful Ride For A Cure.

My good friend and fellow JDRF advocate/parent, Cathy Forbes and her amazing quadruplet of cyclists are hitting the roads for their third trek through the picturesque Barossa Valley In South Australia.

Cathy, her family and friends have one very special reason why the “Ride” is so incredibly important.

Cathy’s gorgeous daughter, Carrie has the double whammy-Type 1 Diabetes and Coeliac Disease.

The Forbes Family have made an incredible contribution over the years through fundraising, in fact this is their third year that they have rode their way that mile further to finding a cure.

Michael On The Road

In January, 2009, Carrie Forbes will have two very important family members, joined by two newbies to the team, who will be riding in her honour. Like any JDRF fundraising event, all donations are put directly into laboratories, research projects and trials, in a desperate attempt to find a cure for type 1 diabetes.

Proud Cathy With Her "Boys"

On behalf of a JDRF Family who have tirelessly worked and participated in so many fundraising events, I am asking www.whydidtheinsulindie.com readers to think of every child, (or remember when you were one) with this insidious condition. The loose change in your pocket will help to increase Cathy’s fundraising total.

To contribute in any small way to JDRF’s Ride For A Cure 2009, and support my friends, Cathy and Garry, and Lance’s friend (and major crush) Carrie, please click on the below link.

http://ride.jdrf.org.au/CatherineForbes/

  Thanks so much, everyone!

One thing I have learnt about type 1 diabetes is that just when you think your life is akin to an overgrown bunch of noxious weeds, if you look hard enough, smack bang amidst the jungle you can find the most incredible bunch of exotic blooms.

Today, I found a gorgeous flower that made me smile. In fact, I’m STILL smiling.

My friend Kez sent me an email, and told me that I had a surprise awaiting on his website. After a really horrid day, I was intrigued to investigate.

After scanning through his latest post, I soon found myself grinning, as I had become the proud recipient of the Superior Scribbler Award!

I Won This Award!

The award was originally created by Melissa over at The Scholastic Scribe. She initially awarded the prize to her five favourite bloggers, who then awarded their five faves, and so on.

My tres amazing hombre, Kez-author of Interpret This! has given me the ultimate privilege of sharing with the blogosphere that Why Did The Insulin Die is one of his favourite blogs! 

Kez writes an eye popping and lusciously addictive blog about everything between his passion for a fine automobile to his quirky, everyday life in Melbourne. Somewhere amongst all of that, you will discover that Kez also has Type 1 Diabetes. I often forget this, however, because he has the ability to just get on with the show. He showers the world with his sunny disposition, and he has a heart as huge as a drag queen’s headpiece. It hasn’t taken long at all for Kez to become someone that I dearly cherish as a friend. He is always looking out for Lance, and he has this amazing ability to make me feel so special. So, Kez, on behalf of the staff of www.whydidtheinsulindie.com (I actually DO have a wonderful team on board, I have my IT guru, my understudy, in case I’m stuck in a crisis or an emergency;he knows Lance and me well enough to take over, and of course, the star of the entire production, Lance,) THANK YOU SO MUCH, Kez, for selecting our little blog as one of your top 5, out of so many worthy and wonderful reads!

So, before I reveal my Top 5 bloggers, I am required to publish the rules of participating in heaping ice buckets full of praise and adoration upon the worthy winners.

Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass The Award on to 5 most-deserving Bloggy Friends.

• Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author & the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.
  
• Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to this post, which explains The Award.
  
• Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this postand add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way, we’ll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor!
  
• Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

Okay, now that the official part of the post is over, we now get down to the nitty gritty, as i announce the winners, carefully chosen by me, with some very important input from Lance.

In no particular order…

The first winner is Janek, author of The Engineer Also Muses. The name says it all..Janek is an Engineer, working tirelessly (in between msn conversations) to become Dr Janek, by obtaining his PhD. He muses about everything from humourous number plates to posting how many SMS messages he has exchanged with his beloved since they began dating approximately 4 months ago. On a more serious note, Janek is struggling to comprehend with a mysterious burden that affects his home, work and social life. He has an unexplained form of chronic pain, and despite being zapped, prodded and scanned, his medical team are unable to give him an actual reason for why his pain exists, and have therefore lumped his case with the title of nothing short of having a severe case of “Chronic Pain.” Janek manages to keep his head held high and hopes for the best-his wisdom and maturity is so advanced despite his almost 23 years. He is also a passionate advocate for many causes, and when he gets on his soapbox-be warned. Janek is only relatively new to the blogosphere, but has embraced entertaining his readers with gusto. Bravo, Janek.

Kerri’s award winning blog, Six Until Me, chronicles her last 22 years that she has shared with Type 1 Diabetes. Determined to live life to the fullest, as well as being an amazing advocate for all people with The Big D, her posts leave you with food for thought, empower you to maintain superior health and a positive outlook despite having a pancreas void of insulin, and her ability to share her own terrifying experiences with hypoglycaemia and hyperglycaemia are absolutely heartwrenching. Kerri’s was the very first blog that I came across almost three years ago, I was so intrigued and excited to find an online account of survival that was written by a twenty-something, successful women from Rhode Island who knows her diabetes back to front and inside out. An absolute must read for anyone new to the Diabetes Online Community. I can guarantee that you will find yourself wanting your daily hit of Six Until Me. Oh! By the way, Kerri has managed to make her gorgeous cat an international star! 

Dan, author of My Life In The Slow Lane tells of a young man who has overcome some very dark phases through adolescence with chronic illnesses and depression. He has found the inner strength to live alone in Sydney and attend University, while enjoying an entertaining social life and seducing the reader with his incredible talents as a wordsmith. A inspiring story of how chronic illness could not hold this man back; he managed to emancipate himself from its clutches. Dan can fully identify with how living with Fibromyalgia, ME and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome are so misunderstood, very much like Type 1 Diabetes, often accompanied with the dreaded exclamation, “But you look so well!” A laugh-out-loud account of day-to-day life as a student, a patient, peppered with the excitement and challenges of a flourishing relationship. An inspiring and passionate read, with a twist of ascerbic wit and the odd, unapologetic outburst.

Bitten And Bound -The Not So Pretty Side Of Hollywood speaks for itself. An all-girl lineup contribute to this blog (Missy, Meg and Andrea), giving delightfully humourous accounts of C Grade celebrities getting up to mischief.  I  recently enjoyed the Sarah Palin/Tina Fey SNL fiasco that the girls were able to present for our viewing pleasure. Bitten and Bound is your number one stop to find out about scandalous behaviour of the rich and famous, (yes, you, David Duchovny of the XXX Files.) An up-to-the-minute blog about Hollywood behaving badly, with fantastic pics to boot.

And the final spot belongs to..Shannon. This woman is possibly the U.S version of me. Her blog, Mom Wants A Cure tells of Shannon’s eldest child, Brendon, and his diagnosis of type 1 diabetes followed by his survival and the family’s acceptance of The Beast. Unlike me, Shannon has to devote herself to her husband, her two other chlldren and helping Brendon look after his Diabetes, as well as finding the odd ten minutes for herself. Both Lance and Bren were diagnosed at roughly the same time, and are pretty much the same age. Shannon’s blog is a hoot, she is unashamedly honest, (she enjoys colouring her posts with the odd expletive.) I often laugh out loud when I come across expletives used as adjectives or even the only word in a sentence. Dealing with hypos and high blood sugars year after year are bound to bring out some type of frustrated exclamation!) This woman also has the hugest heart and shows so much compassion to those in need of an ear. I relate to Shannon in so many ways, because we both are Mum’s/Mom’s who want nothing more than a cure. “Pure and Simple.” 

 Congratulations to these well-deserving recipients! It was definitely a difficult selection process. Each of these blogs provide me with comfort and much laughter.

Once again, big love and hugs to you, Kez. It was actually very difficult to keep you off my favourite five list!To all of the bloggers who have no reason to include a diabetes info and support blog on their blogroll, but have added us anyway…THANK YOU, TOO!! You are providing an invaluable service, by helping to educate your readers about type 1 diabetes. Better advertising than money can buy, I say!

Ten days ahead of schedule, Squidoo have already fulfilled their promise of an $80 000 cash giveaway to many worthy organisations! 

Five percent of the overall votes went to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation, with each vote earning a $2 donation from the amazing team at Squidoo.

Considering that the voting closed so early, approximately $4250 is certainly a tremendous effort!!

(Exact amounts to be donated will be published on the Squidoo website when the final counting is completed.)

Good Job, Everybody!!!

Considering that Lance and I sell jellybabies each year for $2 per unit, I can assure you that achieving anywhere close to a four digit number in a two week period is a mammoth accomplishment.

Just through word of mouth, an email here, a post-on-a-blog there…..WE ALL DID JDRF PROUD.

Oh, by the way, you CAN continue voting over at Squidoo if you are at all interested in how much we could have raised by 15 October, (for bragging rights only.)

On behalf of JDRF (Australia), THANK YOU SO MUCH, Squidoo, for your incredibly kind offer, that touched so many different charities and in some way, big or small, made a difference.

(Squidoo have always been exceptional supporters to Type 1 Diabetes by providing much needed funding for cutting edge research.) 

 To all who voted, you already know that you are smokin’ hot!

Thanks a bunch to whomever is responsible..

Every September, Australia celebrates ‘What’s The Buzz” Day. We also have an annual Diabetes Awareness Week. That last sentence makes me want to force 1000 fingerpricks until the end of the lancet is rounded upon the person/people responsible for lumping type 1 and type 2 diabetes together.

Once AGAIN, the nation is utterly confused, and has no idea about where or what type of diabetes plays a role in childhood obesity. 

You See, Diabetes Has Basically Become A Polite Way Of Saying:- “Lazy Tub Of Lard Who Injests Sugar and White-Flour Laden Foods Every Moment Of The Day…

There are newspaper articles with the latest count of people with “Diabetes.” (Notice, no distinct segregation of type 1 and 2 diabetes listed by the journalist or the source.)

There are fears for the judge everyone loves to hate on Australian Idol. Due to his punishing work load, (starting the day at 3am to do his radio show, and then working through the day with his Idol commitments), Kyle Sandilands quaffs up to 30 lattes and numerous litres of Coke, along with a packet of cigarettes everyday. He unashamedly admits that his diet is less than desirable, and he has recently been branded as an appalling example to the young listeners of his successful radio program, and the young fan base that religiously follows Australian Idol. Last year, he was diagnosed with elevated blood pressure that has him branded as a walking heart-attack. Like him, or loathe him, he is overweight,but he doesn’t deserve to have the media behaving like vultures, waiting to see him on a stretcher.

However, then, we have his fellow Australian Idol judge, Marcia Hines, who has lived with type 1 diabetes for many years now. 

Despite being diagnosed in her mid-thirties, Marcia now spends every second of every day loving life. She has a successful career, a wonderful husband and a world-wide fan base.

Marcia-Our Type 1 idol.

So, you could imagine, to my dismay, Marcia Hines appeared on an advertisement during the verdict show of Australian Idol, warning fellow Aussies to get checked out by their doctor and to watch their weight. She then goes on to say, “Diabetes is a serious condition, hey, I’ve got Diabetes!”

However, there was no mention of the insulin pump that continuously infuses insulin into her body, so that she can focus on her job and not have to worry so much about what her levels are doing. Under her signature, bright attire, that compliments her cocoa skin so beautifully, lives a Medtronic insulin pump-currently only used for people with type 1 diabetes in Australia.

So, who on earth is reponsible for having the likes of Marcia Hines, speak about her condition so casually?

Is the Federal Government in a lather over the alarming surge of type 1 AND type 2 diagnoses?

Surely, Diabetes Australia aren’t using a valuable person with fame and recognition behind her, to plug diabetes as what happens when you “supersize”…

Someone with Marcia’s celebrity calibre is too valuable to be fobbed off as a “Diabetic.” Why wasn’t she encouraged to speak about her work with kids who have type 1 diabetes, and the fact that she had to hide lollies in her chair when she could feel an impending hypo on live television??

So, we have one man, who is technically, “obese”, and has not even uttered any fear of contracting type 2 diabetes, and then, a disciplined, highly respected woman, who has lived with Type 1 Diabetes for almost 20 years, almost “forced” to disclose the fact that she has an auto-immune condition, for the pure purpose of shock advertising..

“Wow, if Marcia Hines has Diabetes, I could get it too! I mean, she’s in her late fifties and she looks amazing!”

If this is the case, I am utterly sickened.

 Marcia responded to a letter that Lance and I wrote her at the beginning of last year-she commended us for our fundraising efforts. She also took the time to write some inspirational words to Lance, encouraging him to never look back, and to allow type 1 diabetes to make him stronger.

(Lance was so starstruck, and impressed that he had received a response from the female judge of Idol!!)

I just want to get one thing clear.

I hold no resentment towards anyone who suffers from type 2 diabetes, no matter if it was bought on by lifestyle choice, heriditary factors, the end result of suffering from Gestational Diabetes, or even if certain medications caused beta cell damage.

It’s ALL tragic, and concerning for anyone, no matter what age, sex, race…IF YOU ARE SERIOUS ABOUT LOOKING AFTER TYPE 2 DIABETES, AND LESSENING YOUR CHANCES OF COMPLICATIONS, IT IS REALLY HARD WORK!!

However, when people see my son, and associate him, or me, as his mother and carer, with images like this:

Images Such As This Are Hammered Into Our Heads Through Advertising. People with Type 1 Diabetes Are Thrown Into The Same Category. SHAME!!!

I cannot begin to describe the anger and hurt. It’s easy enough to say, “Ah, take it with a grain of salt..”, ”people are ignorant..’ This is MY son that people (who think they ARE right!!) are casting judgement upon.. MY son, who did not ask, or deserve this condition, and yet is asked almost everyday a variation on the same theme.

‘Did Mum give you a lot of sugar as a baby?”

“Does Mum have diabetes, too?”

“You shouldn’t be drinking soda if you have diabetes!!”

“At least you don’t have cancer.”

I am the first to admit that I tend to harp on this issue regularly in my posts.  I only have one child, and I gave my ALL to make sure that he had everything and was given the very best of care. Yet, when people give ME a look of “Well, you learnt the hard way, didn’t you?” I could almost scream and stamp and have a tanty like the best of them.

I’m tired for Lance, having to defend himself.

I’m tired, full stop.

Whoever is responsible for this disgraceful and heartbreaking advertising, you are messing with some really passionate and like-minded parents!

However, on a brighter note, my brother, (who last saw Lance just before he got his pump in late July,) caught up with him on the weekend. He was astounded by “how at peace, and how calm” Lance seemed, and how much healthier he appeared. (My brother is a man of very few words, so coming from him, these observations meant so much to me.)

I do apologise for the venomous rant, and I never want to hurt anyone by doing so who has Type 2 Diabetes.

It’s just this “obesity crisis”…it’s the topic on everyone’s lips. It’s heartbreaking to see a morbidly obese child who IS Lance’s age, licking the last morsels of Cheesel salt from their fingers… I am simply blown away that a parent could become so ‘relaxed’ with their child’s wellbeing. It takes so much work to undo years of bad habits associated with food. Maybe these kids feel like I do, angry that they have suddenly become persecuted and in the limelight for all the wrong reasons.

I appreciate that the government are not taking this grave issue lightly, but the spotlight is being falsely aimed at a demographic who have never had an issue of any kind with obesity!! 

 And of course, you know the first disease that comes to mind as a result of “indulging in one of the deadly sins”.

Bravo, JDRF Australia!

THANK YOU for showing us the facts on paper.   Your team conducted a broad scale survey about what it’s REALLY like to live with Type 1 Diabetes, and you came up with some staggering results. 

Considering that Australia is the most obese nation in the world, and there has been millions of dollars poured into advertising for weight loss,( with the fearful threat intertwined of becoming a ”hearty” candidate for type 2 Diabetes), it appears that all of the amazing advocacy work that we thought was leading us to finally establishing an identity of out own has lead us back to sqare one.

JDRF said that from the 2300 respondents (which was aimed at all age groups-adults with type 1 diabetes, parents with a child/children with type 1 diabetes and other people with a personal connection to type 1 diabetes-family, friends, co-workers, sent a very strong message that the current focus on obesity in discussions of diabetes had created a “blame culture”, which in turn causes misery and depair for families living with Type 1 Diabetes, as reported in “Update“-The Official Newsletter of JDRF Australia.

THE FINDINGS.

ADULTS living with Type 1 Diabetes reported a common complication that accompanied their condition-depression and anxiety, with 25% reporting a clinical diagnosis during their time living with diabetes.

Even more concerning were results indicating that this debilitating condition was not being managed as well as possible by health care professionals, with only 7% of respondents declaring that they had been referred for psychological support.

Heartbreakingly, depression or anxiety was ALSO the most commonly reported complication for children with type 1 diabetes, with a staggering 1 in 10 declaring this dreaded complication.

(Reassuringly, all of the candidates had been referred to a psychologist or other specialty care.)

THE HEALTH SYSTEM.

Agasp… MORE than 50% of adults and 40% of parents reported that they had experienced a Health Care Professional demonstrating a blatant lack of knowledge about type 1 diabetes.

(I shuddered as I read this statement in particular, recalling a registrar in hospital, neglecting to read the nurses’ notes, and almost overdosing Lance with a double dose of Novorapid. 30 minutes later, I discharged Lance from the hospital, fully aware of the risk I was taking-however, as his fulltime carer, I felt he was at more risk in that ward than he was in his own cosy nest at home. Hate to say, ‘I TOLD YOU SO”, but in this instance, I was right. Also, how could I POSSIBLY forget the after hours doctor who told me to “break Lance’s “tablets” into halves, and only give him a half dose while he was unwell, despite having “TYPE 1 DIABETIC” emblazoned in red on his file!!!!!! Not to mention, I alerted the doctor,by stating;”I AM PRESENTING MY SON WITH IDDM TO YOU FOR A SECOND OPINION REGARDING HIS INSULIN DOSES….!!!!!!”)

30% of adults also reported that diabetes was not the first diagnosis when they became ill.

Almost 20% of adults did not consider their diabetes to be well managed, however, around half of repondents reported no complications, and no emergency room visits since diagnosis.

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND PUBLIC.

Almost 30% reported feeling extremely worried about having a hypo at work or school.

The good news was that just over half of the respondents felt confident that their fellow workers or school friends could assist in an emergency.

THE DEVASTATION.

Nearly HALF of all parents reported being made to feel that their child’s type 1 diabetes was their fault, due to the constant confusion between type 1 and type 2 diabetes. EVERY PARENT  HAD AN ENCOUNTER RELATING TO AN INSENSITIVE, IGNORANT OR DELIBERATELY CRUEL REMARK ABOUT DIABETES, causing heartbreak to them or their child.

Source:

JDRF Update newsletter, Winter edition, 2008.

Maybe it’s the upcoming elections, but I have been interested in the goings-on in America of late.

(OR maybe I am too disappointed in our government to care, so I’ve subconsciously shifted my interest to the Super Nation.)

Firstly, although almost a week late, I feel that I must make mention of the anniversary of 9/11.

Gone, but never forgotten.

I will never forget those images..those sounds..that fear…I was twenty-three years old, and so terrified that our nation would be next in line. I had a brand new baby, and I couldn’t believe what a horrorshow of a world I had bought him into.

To all of our friends’ in America, our thoughts are always with you at this time. Even though we lost many Aussies in the Bali attacks the year after, it was difficult to comprehend just how “real” it was. To know that your country was on red alert, with a President who wore that notorious “deer-in-the-headlights-expression” must have been the most petrifying and life-altering experience.

  In Australia, we were glued to our TV screens, screaming at our then-Prime Minister for kissing up to Dubya and sending our troops over to Iraq.

Then, of course, you have your upcomimg Election.

Wow. I bet many Americans don’t even know who our new Prime Minister is.

The prospect of having an African American President is so exciting. I don’t want to get into a political discussion, but I REALLY hope you get Obama. I mean, you deserve him after being led by a very traditional, set-in-their-ways government for the past eight years. Or is it six? Nevertheless, it’s been a VERY long time.

I have become very interested in America’s Health Care System, too.

The workings of it have always intrigued me, but after renting Michael Moore’s, “Sicko“, I was left feeling extremely warm and fuzzy towards our Medicare system.

In Australia, if a middle-income family have a child that is diagnosed with type 1 Diabetes, they would be given a signed report by their endocrinologist upon discharge from the hospital, to hand into Centrelink, which would immediately ensure that your child would receive a Health Care Card. The entitlements: ALL insulins are dispensed in bulk, (eg-Lance uses novorapid, we get 25 vials; five boxes each containing 5 units of insulin), for the sum of $5. Five dollars. This is regardless of whether you have health insurance or not. You only need a Medicare Card, which every Australian citizen is entitled to, anyway.

So, in this instance, what would happen in America?? Would a family of a newly diagnosed child (without health insurance) need to get a loan to cover the cost of insulins etc??

Can we still honestly say that we are the “Lucky Country”?

I also met a fan of Michael J Fox on the weekend. (We had plenty to talk about, as I grew up with “Alex P. Keaton“, and have loved him for as long as I can remember.)

The Fan, was very passionate about all of the phenomenal fundraising and organisations that have been established by Michael J Fox and the late Christopher and Dana Reeve. I too, was familiar with the awe-inspiring attempts at cracking the code for conditions such as Parkinson’s Disease, Alheizmer’s Disease, Multiple Sclerosis, Cystic Fybrosis and not to mention, type 1 diabetes, which were made possible by the genorosity of these wonderful people. We also discovered we both were huge Obama fans.

However, then things got a tad nasty.

We have been following “Who on earth is Sarah Palin” in recent weeks. She’s been getting her fair share of air time on the News and coverage in the the major newspapers, so it would be fair to say that a decent amount of Australian’s know that you have a female candidate running for Vice President. (She’s probably better known as ‘the Yankee four-eyed chick who the old Pubbo dude is having it off with. Oh yeah, she’s got a decent rack, too, so if she shut her trap, she’d probably be pretty hot, actually…’)

Ahhh..you either laugh or cry at the Aussie-isms that you run into occasionally-some people make the late Steve Irwin sound quite regal.

Anyway, back to the MJF fan.

She was concerned that, because Sarah Palin’s son has Down’s Syndrome, that she would be completely against any Embryonic Stem Cell research. I tend to broach this subject with extreme caution, as people get SO riled up. They are either extremely TOTALLY pro, or VEMEHENTLY anti. There’s very little “grey area”, where people will just shrug it off, and say, “Hey, I respect your beliefs, I’ve got mine, but can see your point, too.”

I smiled and nodded as MJF Fan verbally assaulted Mrs Palin. However, I refused to comment, which annoyed MJF fan all the more.

I’m not going to concern myself about it at the moment, I mean, I think it would be fabulous to have a new, fresh government in the United States, but as I am an outsider, and just a humble Aussie, I guess ALL that matters to me, is that your Health Care System gets refreshed and made fair for everyone. That could take my lifetime to amend, but ultimately, after watching Sicko, I was mortified that what I suspected was the case was actually true, only worse.

Meanwhile, you must be SO proud of Michael Phelps.

What an all round nice guy!! I saw a pic of him with our some members of the Aussie Men’s Swim Team along poolside, having a laugh together. Did I mention that they were all shirtless?

So, thank you for letting me act as your foreign correspondent, USA! Your country is SO much more exciting than mine at the moment!!

btw..Here’s a challenge for you.

NO GOOGLING IS ALLOWED.

What is the name of our current Prime Minister??

The first person to get the answer correct (who is not an Aussie, of course,) gets a post dedicated to their brilliance on my blog, and a donation made in your name to ‘Buzz Day.” 

NO GOOGLING or ANY other searches. ( I will know if you cheated!!!!)

Please entertain me. I’m bored.

I spent hours on the World Wide Web this evening, looking for new and interesting stories to post for your reading pleasure, and so you can say that you’ve learnt a true fact for the day!

Please keep an open mind while taking in the bizarre, yet truly fascinating finds that give the word “pancreas” a whole new meaning!!!

(To be honest, it feels great to “find some dirt” about Ye Olde Void Organ. I need to laugh about Lance’s empty vessel sometimes..)

Here we go…

 GreenTripe, a one-of-a-kind pet food company,  specialise in providing only the “freshest” fine food for your dog. (They have EVERYTHING; when i say everything, I’m talking about dried trachea snacks for Rover.)

     Also on the extensive menu, are beef pancreas rolls for pooches who suffer from pancreatic complaints. ( I wonder if it has a warning, “Not For Human Comsumption” somewhere on the labelling??  *After some investigating, I discovered that it most certainly does indicate that it for animal consumption only.)*

 To prove that I’m not messing with your head, here is the link.

 (If your dog does have a dicky pancreas, then you really can’t go wrong with contacting the folks at Greentripe; they sell a 2lb roll of beef pancreas for $3.70-and, it’s especially ordered for medicinal treatment!) 

Now, don’t go getting all squeamish on me!

 I just found it very interesting that there are LESS than 200 healthy pancreas’s donated and able to be used for lifesaving pancreas/kidney transplants each year in Australia, yet slabs of cow pancreas’s for canine consumption are readily available over the internet, for the cost of the coins down the back of your sofa!!

Anyway, I’ve digressed. (Again.)

I really want to share a Chinese recipe with you all. Our friends in America have just entered the third week of Autumn, (Fall) and this recipe is perfect if you suddenly have the urge to whip up some cuisine from the Orient.

Here’s what you’ll need for: Silken Corn and Pig Pancreas.

(Admittedly, some ingredients may be extremely difficult to get your hands on. (Hmm, bad wording.) I’ll try again..some ingredients may be difficult to find, unless you visit your local abbottoir.

SYMPTOMS: 

All symptoms of diabetes and high blood pressure.

THERAPEUTIC EFFECTS:

Promotes diuresis to relieve edema, lowers blood pressure, lowers blood sugar levels.

Each serve should contain:

• Pig pancreas 豬胰(豬橫利)- one whole (250 gm)
• Corn with corn silk 玉米鬚� 2 cobs and corn silk or 40gm of dried corn silk
• Chinese yam (shan yao) 淮山- 40 gm
• Lean pork 瘦肉� 160 gm

1. Wash pancreas and soak with 2 spoons of salt for an hour.
2. Wash pancreas and put in boiling water to rinse for a couple of minutes. Retrieve, drain and cut into thin pieces.
3. Wash corn and corn silk and cut into sections.
4. Put all ingredients including the pig pancreas in a pot with adequate water and bring to a boil. Remove foam, reduce heat and simmer from 2 to 3 hours until 2 cups of water is left.
5. Drink soup and eat some pancreas.

USAGE:

Eat on an empty stomach once a day and continue for three weeks as one course of treatment. Continue for a few more courses if necessary. This soup can be used to prevent and treat diabetes.(Author’s note: these are the words of the person who contributed the recipe, NOT MINE. I respect the beliefs of Chinese medicine very much, but I  cannot justify that sentence. As far as Type 1 Diabetes goes, there is nothing that can be taken or done differently to prevent its occurrance. People with Type 2 Diabetes can afford to experiment with alternative medicine as long as they are devoting an equal amount of time to Western medicine.

( I’m feeling a definite deja vu sensation…it’s the same feelings of uncertainty I had when I was handed the dandelions.)

Anyway, this is what your completed Pancreas creation should look like.

Mmm Mmmmmmmmmmm.

 Last but not least, a girl visiting Hong Kong provided a picture of something that resembled pan-fried potato strips.

Uh huh, It was pancreas. This girl ate pancreas. She didn’t specify where the pancreas “came from”, only that she had eaten it.(I would have loved to have asked her if it “tasted like chicken…”) Any Aussie who has tasted crocodile or kangaroo or anything slightly exotic, will often reply that it “just tasted kinda like chicken, really…”

So, there you have it. Whoever knew that the pancreas could be used with such a spirit of adventure in the kitchen, and as a culinary and/or medicinal treat for your dog? It was jolly good fun to write about the pancreas with a half-smirk on my face, rather than a forehead full of wrinkles!

Please be sure to share with us if you decide to let loose and treat your dog, or if you want to capture the spirit of the Orient, and get adventurous with a pancreas!!!

Speaking of getting adventurous with pancreas’s….

Before I sign off, I will leave you with a giggle, especially if all of the pancreas cuisine talk has left you feeling slightly queasy…

Who Would Ever Have Thought That The Pancreas Could Provide So Much Entertainment!!

 This post and pictures are dedicated to my dear friend, Kez, who has been so incredible  throughout the past month. Having had Type 1 Diabetes for the best part of his young life, he truly understands the nature of the condition. He barely ever mentions his own nightmares where Diabetes is concerned; he is more worried for Lance. He’s a true gentleman-an original Harry Winston pink diamond glimmering in a bargain bin brimming over of cubic zirconia.

Kez has been enquiring and asking lots of questions about Lance and his insulin pump. As we reside in different states, I thought I would take some pictures of the ENTIRE site change procedure. (There aren’t too many people who actually want to hear about the pump and its workings, so I decided to pay homage to my friend for being so incredibly supportive, and I figured that I may as well do this properly and show you EVERYTHING!)

This post is also dedicated to my Lance, whose patience and even-tempered nature never ceases to amaze me. You are a true inspiration to others, with or without Diabetes.

Meet "The Pump."

 (Would you like some caviar and Cristal Champagne with your insulin today, oh Sir Lance-a-lot?)

Cleaning Hands With Antibacterial Gel

 The first rule of changing a set is to have a clean area to work on, and thoroughly clean hands. As well as using soapy, hot water, I go that one step further and use an anti-bacterial quick drying gel.

What You Need To Change An Infusion Site.

I have two alco-wipes, which throughly clean areas that must be germ-free, a new, sterile reservoir, which simply resembles a fat, short barrel of a syringe. It has a blue, removable needle which draws up the insulin. There is also a new “set”, which consists of thin, clear tubing, with a lockable cap on one end, and that tape one the other, along with a removable needle. We’ll go into that more later. There is also a cleaned Medtronic Quik-Serter and a vial of insulin.

A 3mL vial of Novorapid-So Little Insulin For Such A Big Problem!

Cleaning The Rubber Plunger Of The Vial-Hygiene Is A Must!

Filling The Syringe With Insulin.

Attaching One End Of The Tubing To The Insulin Resevoir.

Where The Insulin Lives.

Checking The Insulin Flows Through The Tubing.

The Pump Pushes The Insulin Freely Through The Tubing. At this point, I have to choose an option in the Main Menu called "Prime". This means I have to hold the blue ACT (short for Activate) button down, until I can see insulin flowing through the tubing, and a few droplets emerging at the end. ( I can usually smell it coming before I see it.)Droplets Of Clear, Pungent Insulin Appear! It Worked!

Introducing The Medtronic Quik-Serter.

Taking Off The Shiny Paper To Reveal Super Sticky Tape!

Almost There!

Loading The Quik-Serter.

The Needle Is Now Exposed.

Avoiding The Old Site.

Cleaning The New Site.

This is the part where you move quikly (hehe)&have chocolate ready to distract yelping child....

OUCH! (Just For A Teensy Second..)

Pumped And Ready To GO!

Lance definitely chose appropriate PJs-He definitely is a Superman.

“Me? An Insulin Pump? I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

Only the sharpest eye could possibly make out that Lance is wearing an insulin pump. The best part is that the average person has no idea about the delicate procedure Lance just went through.  

 I guess I have Diabetes to thank for his incredible character traits.

Hope you enjoyed sharing a smidgen of our day, Kez!

On Friday, 19 September, Diabetes Australia celebrates “What’s The Buzz?” Day.

This year, DA is hoping to raise $400 000 for ongoing diabetes eduation and research.

In many pharmacies and retail stores throughout Australia, there are boxes crammed full with useful and cute bee-related accessories that range from $4- $10.

Diabetes Australia is a fantastic support group for all Australians with Type 1 and 2 Diabetes.

A donation, no matter how small, will help contribute to fund Diabetes Camps for kids and adolescents, provide all members of Diabetes Australia with the most up-to-date research and advice, and support researchers who are continously looking for that gold nugget.

Take the sting out of Diabetes.

Lance donated $10 of his pocket money yesterday; he purchased a cool pen, that flashes the same neon blue that lit up the world on International Diabetes Day last November, and a keyring.

Check out the What’s the Buzz? website for more information!

Yesterday, we travelled 90 minutes to attend our first “Pump Clinic” at the Hospital, to see what we had learnt and what changes had occurred during the first month of Insulin Pump therapy.

Around a table in the Endocrine Ward sat The Paediatric Endocrinologist, The Dietician, The Diabetes Educator, The Diabetes Educator-in-training, and three parents of three different children, myself included.

Lance had the foresight to bring a backpack of Lego along, which kept him and his two fellow pumper’s entertained, whilst the adults spoke in another language.

I presented Lance’s record book for the Educator to look through. I pointed out where I thought there was room for improvement, and to my surprise, she heartily agreed. I also voiced the fact that I thought Lance needed set changes every two days, rather than every three. (A pattern had emerged that was very obvious…Lance’s levels would slowly climb up on the beginning of the third day, and then eventually blast past the dreaded 20mmol/L mark.) I got a pat on the back for being observant. It was noted that Lance would be having his set changed every two days from now on. (I had been doing this anyway.)

The Endocrinologist explained that in children, especially, the immune system is running fast and strong, in an attempt to ward off the mammoth number of potential infections/viruses it comes in contact with everyday. If Lance was to get a splinter in his hand, his immune system would recognise that there was something foreign and dirty present, therefore causing the area surrounding it to turn red and swollen. He then likened this to a sterile plastic cannula, that sits under the skin in Lance’s tumny. Although it is clean, in some children, the immune system will detect a foreign object and pounce on it, in an attempt to be rid of it, it will clog up the cannula with a mucus-like substance, therefore inhibiting the flow of insulin. It was so refreshing to have an explanation as to WHY Lance needs to have changes a day earlier than most kids, rather than, ”He just DOES.” 

I commented to the Dietician that Lance’s appetite had grown tremendously since starting on the pump. She looked at me, hmmmed and replied, “Well, that’s not normal.” I then received a grilling regarding what choices I was making in regards to Lance’s diet, At this point, the endo intervened. “Ahh Wendy, Kate’s been Lance’s sole carer for six years. She knows her choices regarding diet.” (Thanks for the backup, Doc. It was so wonderful to be recognised as a person of value to my child’s condition, rather than just the client who hands over cash or a Medicare Card.)

At this stage, the other two parents’ decided to participate in the conversation.

“Jack’s been breaking into his emergency food pack at school, so, yeah, he’s hungrier too.”

“Same with Noah, he’ll  now eat 4 slices of bread, and easily come back for seconds.”

I tried my very best not to give the dietician a look of “You know food, I know Diabetes.” I have no idea if I succeeded.

At this point, Diabetes Educator-in-training was instructed to take the three boys our and record their height and weight.

Dietician piped up, “If we have any weight gain, we need to look at what you’re giving your child meal by meal, and see if we can make better choices.”

I silently groaned. There was no way Lance was going to come out of that room the same weight as he was when he was admitted a month ago.

In-training had the boys walking in single file, while she lead them back to the clinic.

The dietician and In-Training made eye contact. I was watching them both like a hawk.

“We have a gain here,” whilst pointing to the back of my son’s head.

Endo wasn’t phased in the least. He kept writing, and talking to those interested in learning more about insulin pumps.

In-Training took the stats for the three boys over to The Dietician. She nodded knowingly, and looked up at me, quickly darting her eyes away when she realised I was aware she had details in her hands that concerned Lance.

“He’s gained 860 grams in a month,”she announced to the group.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

“May I enquire about his height please?” I interrupted.

“He’s actually grown almost 2 centimetres in a month.” replied In-Training.

“Oh, well that’s great. He’s growning nicely then! commented Endo.

“However, it’s still a gain.” (Dietician lowered her voice to speak with Endo.) “Have a talk with Mum about choices?” she asked. Endo shook his head, and pursed his lips. “No, he’s doing fine. He’s exactly where he should be on the growth curve.”

Dietician kept her eyes on her Calorie Counter for the rest of the session.

Anyway…

It was so fabulous to hear that the parents all had positive feedback since starting on Pump Therapy.

“Jack’s got so much more energy, he’s not irritable anymore in the afternoons. He used to be a shocker.”

“Noah is a different little boy. He gets upset about having his site changes, but he’s able to concentrate on his homework without drifting off into Nowhere Land.”

“Lance is now able to sit down and read an entire chapter book. He used to be able to manage two to three chapters, however, because his blood sugar levels are virtually perfect, he is now devouring books. He doesn’t want me to read to him anymore.”

“Jack hasn’t had a hypo since we came out from hospital. A month without a hypo.”

Noah isn’t talking back to us anymore; his attitude has completely changed. It’s like we have our son back.”

“Lance is celebrating the fact that he doesn’t have to accept that feeling low means normal. He is so much chirpier and talkative, bounding with energy and his hypos are nowhere near as difficult to treat now that he receives his insulin via the pump.”

Endo beamed. He was genuinely ecstatic that 3 young boys had the opportunity to know or remember what feeling well felt like.

We adjusted some basal rates, as there were a few minor teething problems concerning each of the boys. Jack needed more insulin during the afternoon. Noah needed more before bed and less at 3am. Lance needed less insulin all together at night/early morning.

90 minutes later, we concluded our meeting and we meet up again in another 2 months to see how much further we’ve advanced at our detective work. Participating in this workshop really reinforced to me just how important feedback from parents is for the staff in a Diabetes team. They rely on our experience to help others’ and to compare challenges and problems that may come their way.

They can go home from a day of Diabetes when their shift concludes.

We can never go home. 

This is a post that I have wanted to write for a long time, but I felt that the topic could be slightly cringe worthy.

I still feel that way, but I’m going to continue this time, instead of writing a draft and deleting it the next day.

In case you aren’t aware, I am a single, 31 year old mother. I have one child, Lance, who is the epicentre of my existence. We have lived through almost six gruelling years together, battling against severe hypoglycaemia, and more recently, wildly fluctuating blood sugar levels that were attributed to the release of growth hormones.

It hasn’t always been this way. I was once a happily married twenty-something when I discovered that I was pregnant. Life was peachy-Scott, my then-husband and I lived in a fabulous home, and wanted for nothing. We were not planning to start a family so quickly, however, as soon as we both saw the two “pink lines”, we were consumed with the thought of new life entering our little world.

We had an incredible first year with our gorgeous son. Lance was meant to be with us-he would gaze at me as if he had known me for years, even as a newborn. If I heard him crying, I only had to soothe him with some soft, comforting words or a lullaby, and he would settle immediately, soaking in my essence. We were incredibly close, we had bonded whilst Lance was in-utero. He knew me from the moment he was handed to me.  Without a doubt, the most incredible experience of my life.

Fast forward 1 November, 2002. Diagnosis Day. Hurricane Mellitus.

After a week in hospital, we returned to our house. It didn’t feel like “home” anymore. There was evidence everywhere of the chaos that had overwhelmed us prior to hearing “those” life-changing words.

That’s when the cracks began to show. I became so protective and vigilant of Lance, and without even realising it, I began to focus all of my attention onto Diabetes.  Whilst Scott slept alone, I would be lying beside Lance’s cot-observing, watching, testing..trying to avoid disaster or the possiblity of more distress in hospital for Lance.

A huge, jagged welt had divided the amazing relationship that Scott and I once had. He bottled his feelings, and never displayed any grief or remorse about this devastating misfortune that had been inflicted upon our son. I resented him for that tremendously. (It wasn’t like I wanted to see him sitting around, paralysed with heart-wrenching pain or in a constant state of distress, but his ability to move on seemed so callous to me.)I mistook his way of coping as not caring.

On 8 April, 2003, I lost my older brother to a horrific, aggressive cancer. He was diagnosed soon after his birthday in February, and died an agonising death five weeks later.

On May 23, 2003, Scott and I officially separated. We knew it was a permanent decision, and that there was no going back.

I left our family home, and returned to my hometown with Lance to be with my parents.

Scott left for Melbourne-again, I was full of resentment that he had the ability to abandon us, when we needed him the most. (I now realise that he spent a year there in complete devastation. He returned to Queensland one year later.)

I soon felt strong enough to find my own accommodation, and it was really important to me that Lance felt like he had a home again. Within the space of six months, I found myself existing as a single parent, with a baby who had a relatively short honeymoon period, in a city that had limited medical professionals/facilities for infants with Type 1 Diabetes. I spent that spring following a meticulous routine, in an attempt to create some stability for myself. The upheaval of my son’s diagnosis, the ruination of my marriage, the death of my brother and living a completely foreign lifestyle had left me longing for each day to end, so that I could disassociate myself from reality by sleeping.

Fast forward to 1 September, 2008. The first day of the season synonymous with new life. Spring has officially sprung.

My baby is almost 8 years old, and has grown into a fine young man. His Dad and I are still fantastic friends. I have a network of supportive and kind friends around me. However, despite a huge improvement in my quality of life since the train wreck that was 2003, I am desperately lonely and crave the company of a man.

There. I said it.

It’s not like I haven’t attempted dating, either.

For the past two years, I have felt reasonably safe leaving Lance in the care of my parents or Scott. I have had a few opportunities where I have been asked out for dinner, or to catch a film. The first few times were atrocious..I was sitting in the female toilet,mobile phone in hand,  whispering to my father to do a fingerprick so I knew what Lance’s level was.

 However, with time, I soon began to unwind and relax about leaving Lance for a few hours here and there.

I was lucky enough to score a date with someone whom I had admired from afar for years. He approached me, which was even better. We had a fabulous night out-a brilliant meal, no awkward pauses, much laughter and upon leaving the restaurant, I felt my heart THUD THUD THUD as he slipped his hand into mine.

All weekend, we exchanged text messages. There was a huge va va va voom factor going on. I was so incredibly excited. I knew that this guy, Callum, actually liked “me”.

I was even more impressed when he asked to meet Lance. (As Lance is such a huge part of me, a man who asks to meet him automatically gains mass credibility.)

I suggested that we meet up at the park on a weekend. He was more than happy with that suggestion.

The weekend finally approached, and I was sick with nerves. Lance was a little too young to realise how I was feeling. We arrived at the park, and there he was, sitting at a picnic table with his back to us. He had a huge bucket of KFC and their many various MSG laden side dishes laid out. Taking a deep breath, I held my head high, and approached him. He put out his arms for a hug, and I briefly had fantasies of swiping the food of the table and..well, you can fill in the blanks.

I digress.

The moment arrived when I introduced my boy, to a man who that I could imagine sharing something special with. Callum got down to Lance’s level, and shook hands, and playfully ruffled his hair. Lance seemed to like him, he chattered away, asking many questions and making fine small talk.

Callum opened his bucket of KFC. (Naturally, I had told Callum all about why I was suddenly single, and living alone with my son. He knew about Lance’s condition, and had shrugged it off as being ”no drama whatsoever.”                                                                                                                                                             

“Here buddy, put your plate out and dig into some chicken,” Callum gestured enthusiastically.

“No, thank you Callum. I have my own sandwiches and fruit salad here with me. Thanks for the offer though.” Lance replied.

“Whaaaaaaaat! A kid who refuses KFC? You don’t know what you’re missin’ out on mate! Come on, your Mum and I are going to have some, I don’t want you to miss out.”

 (I wanted to ask a kid in the sandpit to bury me.)

“No, it’s fine. Thanks anyway. I don’t eat takeaway. It’s not good for my diabetes.”

There it was. The truth.

We sat in silence, eating our chosen meals.

Lance asked if he could go and play, and I gave him the go ahead.

“I thought you said his diabetes had nothing to do with diet!!” Callum said with an unexpected tone of  exasperation.

“Oh, it doesn’t. Well, not really. It’s good to encourage healthy eating habits, that’s all. Junk food plays havoc with blood sugar levels, too.” I replied innocently.

About 30 minutes later, I called Lance over for a fingerprick. He was panting and laughing, and out of sheer habit, wiped his finger on a serviette, ready to be tested. I got a droplet of blood, got a decent result, and told Lance to return to the playground.

(The following really hurts to write.)

“Whoa, what the heck was that? You should have prepared me for that! That was so WRONG! What sort of diabetes does he have if you have to do that to his fingers? Never do that in front of me again, hey. It’s so wrong that he was so relaxed and calm about it! So much for my lunch, my appetite is gone.  That was just SUCH a spinout.”

I was devastated. This man was prepared to accept me and my son as a package, but, as Diabetes wasn’t welcome, that meant that we weren’t going to be welcomed either.  Soon after his “spinout”. he yawned and said that the “sun had made him feel seedy.” (Or maybe it was my son and his fingerprick that made him feel seedy….) He grabbed his chicken, hugged me again, this time like there were metal bars between us, and said, “See ya babe. I’ll call you.”

After his little outburst, I was completely over Callum.

( I received an email two days later, telling me that he had dreamt of a future with me, but he couldn’t cope with having a “sick” kid in the picture.)

After I had recovered from my shock and disbelief, I decided that I wasn’t going to let one bad experience deterr me from dating. I let a friend introduce me to her brother, Jayden. We had a lot in common, but there wasn’t a lot of spark. However, I was happy enough to make a close male friend. He was a winner with Lance-he would read him stories and wanted to learn how to do fingerpricks. My faith in humanity was temporarily restored.

One weeknight, he appeared at my doorstep quite late, as he knew that I am a chronic nightowl. He slipped of his shoes and handed me a DVD and a bag of popcorn. This was the quality in a man that I love. Someone that is willing to be throw caution to the wind, and be spontaneous and fancy free. I was suitably impressed.

We sat together, and began watching the film, complete with subtitles. Ahhh..a man with eclectic taste in film. Had I been too judgemental with Jayden? He had definitely impressed me; he even put a cushion on his lap and told me to lie down whilst he gave me a temple massage. I was in sheer bliss until I heard a stifled cry.

I was up as quick as a flash, and hit the pause button. It was Lance. I turned on the night light. His hair was clamped down to his forehead with sweat, and his limbs were twitching.

BSL: 1.8mmol/L. It made no sense, especially as he had gone to bed at 9.3mmol/L after a suitable supper, only two hours beforehand. He was staring straight through me, and I knew it would be hopeless trying to coax him to drink. I assembled a glucagon injection and planted it into his thigh.

I caught a glimpse of Jayden out of the corner of my eye. He appeared as though he may faint.
“Ahh..Kate, don’t you think I should call an ambulance or something? That was really disturbing to watch!” he jittered.

“Well don’t watch, then!” I snapped back. I held Lance close to me, and sang softly as he sobbed.

After ten minutes, his blood sugar had climbed to 5.2mmol/L. The fingerprick was enough to set off the shock, and Lance began screaming and writhing.

I could see Lance turning a whiter shade of pale, and I knew that he was going to be sick, a common reaction from an emergency injection of glucagon.

“Jayden! Could you please grab some towels from the linen cupboard and..”

Too late. I wore most of Lance’s supper all through my hair and down my neck.

“Listen, Kate, I’m going to take off, okay? I’ve called for a taxi, and I’m going catch up with you really soon. Hope the little fella is alright-what the hell happened just then?” His voice faded away, and was followed by the distinctive sound of my front door closing. I had no choice but to take Lance into the shower with me, and clean us both up.

The next day, Jayden’s sister called, asking after Lance. I told her that her brother did a runner, something I didn’t really expect, considering that we were spending a lot of time getting to know each other.

“Oh yeah, he said that he would feel too scared to be around Lance in case that happened while they were playing or something. He’ll be in touch, though.”

(I saw him last Christmas in the mass crowds..I called his name, he turned around and grunted, “Oh, Hey.”)

Merry Christmas to you, too.

I’ve since found out that I’ve been described as a “great chick, heaps of fun, but with wayyyyy too much baggage..”, “she’s someone who I would definitely consider dating, but I’m not interested in having dates if she’s got her mind on her kid instead of me.”

So, this is my dilemma. I don’t have a problem meeting single, impressive-at-first-glance guys. I always assess them first, ie: genuine, sincere, honest-along with the ability to accept the good in every situation. I may have a son who has Type 1 Diabetes, but in total honesty, between the both of us, we are a really good catch. As much as I engage in “Dad” activities, I can’t possibly replace his Dad. Lance misses that, despite the fact that he is willing to spend time with me and do whatever I’m doing, without a complaint. If a male ever comes to our home, whether it be a tradesman or the guy who mows my lawn, Lance will quiz me later that day on whether I would “go out” on a date with said person. I always answer his questions as honestly as I can, and usually I reply that I don’t know about “his” personality, so I couldn’t possibly make a judgement based on the fact that “he” was polite/friendly/gorgeous.

As soon as the question, “So, what school do you go to?” is brought up, things usually go downhill very quickly.
“Why would you want to do homeschool when there are so many great little schools here?”

It’s then when I have to launch into the spiel about Lance’s vulnerability regarding hypoglycaemia. Like a reasonably ditressing percentage of straight males, they will appear concerned,shake their head in disbelief, offer a “tisk tisk” or two, or a “poor little guy”, when in fact, they are thinking..”Uh oh…high maintenance alert, no private time for sex, she’s going to be exhausted by the end of the day, there’s going to be interruptions galore when I’m trying to get busy with her..” Even the most genuine of men that I have met eventually show their true colours. They are single, therefore they want a low maintenance girlfriend who will slot easily into their already established and inflexible lives. 

I simply don’t fit into that category.

At the beginning of this year, I attempted to go on one more date. His personality was quite ordinary, his favourite singer was Dolly Parton, and he wore socks with sandals. However, I do try to treat everyone equally, and I hoped that he may be an amazing conversationalist or incredibly charismatic..

As the night progressed, he interrupted me mid-sentence and exclaimed, “Wow, your life is much more exciting than mine. I think that you’d be bored stupid by me.”

“So, is that what you really feel, or is code for how you REALLY feel?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m not the best with kids, I’m sorry. Plus I am in recovery, I am an alcoholic, and I don’t think I would  be a very good person for you to associate with.”

“Okay…Well, I do appreciate your honesty, I really do. Can we at least be friends, do you think?”

He left his mobile number on the table. He also forgot to pay his bill.

(Oh, and his mobile number was a fake. I can’t believe I thanked him for his “honesty!”)

So, I decided a few months ago, “no more pre-organised dates.” I believe that the right man will come along, but ideally, I would prefer it to be sooner than later. I have worded up all my friends, and they know not to attempt anymore set-ups.

So now I just have to wait for the Universe to deliver a genuine, sincere, kid-friendly, stable, extroverted, intelligent man, who won’t run a mile at the thought of being with a woman who is very closely associated with a chonic condition.

I know you’re out there somewhere!!

 If I’m not concerned about being with a man who has a child with a medical condition, then there just HAS to be single fathers’ out there who are unphased by a treatable condition being part of the package.

P.S. I have been composing this post for a few days now.In an incredible twist of fate, there is an exciting conclusion to my tale of woe!

 Lance ALWAYS greets our postman. As soon as he hears his motorbike approaching, he’s outside giving the postie all his latest news.

Today, Lance bought in the mail. It was bound together with a rubber band. As I flicked through it, a piece of loose paper with the Australia Post letterhead fluttered to the floor.

It read:

“Hi, I’m Thomas, your postman. Would you care to have dinner sometime? I’d like to get to know you and your boy is welcome to come too. Speaking to him is the highlight of my day, he’s one amazing kid. He mentioned that he thinks your (sic) lonely. Well, so am I. I have always wanted to date a redhead.Lance assures me that you’ll love to come on an adventure with me. Here’s my number. Leave a message if I don’t answer.. I really hope that you’ll ring and that I haven’t been too forward.

Regards, Tom.

PS. I’m so glad Lance got his pump. It’s pretty flash! I hope this makes life easier for you both now. I’d like to learn about it, too. T.”

My face aches from smiling. I’m going to call him tonight.

He was certainly right about something-Lance IS one amazing kid. 

There’s that  myth about people who have Diabetes.

Some folk I come across have a very basic understanding about Type 1 Diabetes. However, the sugar paradox is just too complex for them to grasp in one sitting. Many assume that it’s imperative to avoid sugar. Sugar is the enemy.  A whiff of sugar will kill a person with Diabetes.

Of course, these is no truth to any of the above statements, however, you wouldn’t believe (or maybe you would…) how difficult it can be to get that point across!!!!!!

Now that Lance is established on the pump, and we still have some basal level issues (that will be addressed in a few days), I am constantly looking for new things that will interest him, ingredients that can be incorperated into other recipes and that won’t cause havoc with his blood sugar levels. However, we still have well-meaning, but totally clueless folk gasping in horror, exclaiming, “Shouldn’t you be giving him an injection of insulin or something if he’s so low??” (If I’m treating a Lance-hypo, I don’t have the time to shock them into silence with the facts of how an injection or a bolus of insulin would more than likely kill him with a 2.2mmol/L reading.)

There are a few supermarkets that have really gone all out on a limb with introducing sugar-free/carb free chocolate treats. Despite being a little on the expensive side, they are very convenient to have stored away for treats, to enjoy while watching a DVD, or simply an incentive for putting in a lot of effort with schoolwork. Just like most kids with Diabetes, Lance only gets to experience chocolate or lollies as hypo treatment. He often doesn’t remember his hypos, therefore, the empty wrappers or chocolate smeared across his top lip are the only ways I can prove to him that he actually did eat a portion of confectionery.

Now that he gets to experience some freedom in his diet as a result of the pump, I often will find him looking at the nutritional table on the back of his hypo stash. He has really enjoyed having the odd small chocolate here and there, and I’m so happy to be able to let him enjoy life’s little pleasures from time to time.

So, you can imagine my delight and excitement when I discovered a store that’s the equivilent of Diabetic Heaven.

Sugar Free Zone.

Sugar Free Zone desserts and ingredients

http://www.sugarfreezone.com.au/index.html

I had the biggest smile on my face as I explored each page of the website. Not only was every item in the store sugar-free, but this fantastic store is actually situated in Australia! (It’s very rare to see more than 4 shelves in a pharmacy devoted to Diabetes, let alone an entire specialty store!!!!)

Sugar Free Zone is ideal for those who have a sweet tooth, but end up sore and sorry at the end of the day from indulging in that chunk of chocolate mud cake with a side of cream. It’s also perfect for people on low carb diets or who have sugar allergies, or for those who are simply looking to reduce their daily sugar intake.

The staff at Sugar Free Zone stock mass amounts of varied confectionery, beverages, jams&sauces, baking ingredients, health bars, chocolate, desserts-if it’s not sugar free, they don’t stock it.

The website makes it virtually impossible not to place an order. It is so exciting (for Aussies, anyway!!) as speedy shipping is guaranteed, and international enquiries are welcome!

Now, before dieticians and the like start scrolling down to send me comments about foods containing artificial sweeteners, the staff at Sugar Free Zone have a detailed page about what sweeteners are used in each product. They also have nutritional details for each of their products online. ”Diabetic” jams, biscuits and friends are considered “unhealthy” as, more often than not, they can have a high fat or cholesterol content.  However, when you have a child who has a diet that puts most grown-ups to shame, I find it acceptable to allow the indulgence of the occasional, sugar-free delicacy. Afterall, there’s only so long before a kid will refuse to get excited about cubes of diet jelly or other “free foods” as a tastebud sensation.

On an entirely different note, with our current obesity crisis, and the encouragement of our health system to beat the battle of the bulge, if the product is sugar and carbohydrate free, all the better!

With gift vouchers, gift baskets and a store filled to the brim with imported AND Australian products, (without a speck of sugar to be seen,) I felt that it was of benefit to show off our very own South Australian superstore!

Mark and his staff are only too delighted to answer any questions about their products, and to tempt you with their variety of treats that haven’t been seen in Australia before. (Maybe that’s why we have an obesity crisis…)

 For more details, you can find Sugar Free Zone at:

542 Goodwood Road, Daw Park SA AUSTRALIA 5041

or contact:

Adelaide Metro Callers (08) 8277 4222

Country & Interstate Callers 1300 558 705 (local call cost)

http://www.sugarfreezone.com.au/index.html

Fax (08) 8277 4228

]]> http://whydidtheinsulindie.com/2008/08/17/when-you-are-silently-dumped-for-not-pumping/ Sat, 16 Aug 2008 18:07:05 +0000 Kate http://whydidtheinsulindie.com/2008/08/17/when-you-are-silently-dumped-for-not-pumping/

Since Lance has started on the Minimed Pump, we have suddenly experienced a noted rise in popularity within our Type 1 Community. It’s not my imagination, even Lance has noticed it.

We have received kind gestures from family and friends, who know that Lance has been plagued with sudden, severe bouts of hypoglycaemia all his D life. They are genuinely delighted that Lance has the opportunity of not experiencing such exhausting days.

However, I’m not so sure about the members of my Type 1 Community. It appears that they are more interested in the prestige associated with Lance now that he has an insulin pump, rather than be ecstatic for a little boy who has been notoriously ill on so many occasions in his short life.

 Last week, we bumped straight into a mother and son at our local NDSS counter, who used to smile meekly at us, but never seemed keen to participate in conversation.  Her eyes used to follow the pharmacist as he stacked up equipment for our trusty insulin pens. I’m sure this isn’t too harsh, -but the reception we were greeted with today was like having an enounter with a Stepford Wife, or in this instance, ‘Stepford Mum.”

“Golly, I wonder how many carbs I’ll have to bolus for butter-laden frosting on my prize-winning chocolate cake when insulin pumps are invented…” 

Stepford Mum grabbed my wrists, and warmly congratulated me on finally becoming an insulin pump-savvy Mum.

“Tarquin! Come and look at Lance’s new pump!” she cried, whilst beaming down at Lance. (I was a little dumbfounded; I had NEVER seen this woman act so chirpy!!!)

 Tarquin darted from behind a corner as Lance lifted his sweater on cue.

“Oh look! Lance has the MiniMed!” squealed Stepford Mum, her eyes dancing, and each perfect veneer sparkling.

“Tarquin was 3 when he started on the pump, and back then, our private health insurer wouldn’t cover the Minimed,” she said in hushed tones. “Our next one will definitely be the Minimed, because you can’t get any better.”(Look out, Medtronic, you may just have yourselves an up-and-coming jingle…)

 I nodded and smiled in agreement.

“By the way, could I get your email address and cell number?” enquired Stepford Mum. I could actually sense slight vulnerability as she held her Blackberry, (not very Stepford-ish, I know) waiting to enter my details. I had to bite my cheek-giving her my email address was the easy part, however, it had been quite sometime since I had been asked for my “Cell.” (Most Aussies commonly refer to cell phones as Mobile phones,and commonly, ”mobes” for short.) This was all too surreal…

“So, now that Lance is on the pump, we should get the boys together for a play date. You and I can indulge in an iced tea on the deck. What do you think?” Again, Stepford Mum smiled sweetly, her eyes searching mine for a reply. (So, Lance was unsuitable play-date material pre-pump? Hmmm.)

This was a woman who used to run her eyes up every inch of Lance, searching for the hint of a brand name or for the chance sighting of kiddy haute couture.. Tarquin was always sporting a crisp GAP or D&G ensemble. He would make a fantastic poster child for pumpwear, without a doubt.

Does having an insulin pump now mean we aren’t members of the old-school club of injectors, but gold class members of a new echelon of technologically-savvy diabetes treaties?

Stepford Mum isn’t the only one who has changed her tune. We have received emails from people that I tried to establish a Type 1 social group with two years ago, alas, Lance was one of the only kids who injected insulin. And often.

Despite the fact that we have been pumping for only just over two weeks, I was humoured by an email that was waiting alone in my inbox. I opened it, and had to backtrack in an attempt to recall where I knew the name.

Margot. She has a daughter named Sia. Sia started on the pump after the “terrible distress and agony” that having injections caused her. She was diagnosed as being psychologically “very delicate,” therefore, despite the fact that she was still clearly in her honeymoon period-her levels never exceded 9mmol/L- once she had started insulin therapy (!!!) It was literally weeks when she got the all clear from her private health provider to start pumping. This always annoyed me slightly, as she has probably endured a total of 50 injections in her D life. (And, as for the diagnosis of being psychologically fragile, traumatised and distressed, I have a gut feeling that Margot was referring to herself, and not little Sia.)

 Margot had discovered www.whydidtheinsulindie.com through a friend, and she felt that it was only good etiquette to email me. She too, expressed dissatisfaction with Sia’s current pump, and wanted to know how I found the Minimed. She also asked if I had any ideas about how to stop Sia from screaming and ranting every time she has a site change! (If Sia’s immune system decided that, yes, she would be special enough to have a chronic illness, Type 1 diabetes was the worst possible selection (for Margot) from the (un)lucky dip.) After five years, Sia has made “no ground regarding accepting her condition, in fact, she’s become worse.” (Her diagnosis really did a number on Margot.) Five years after diagnosis, Sia’s tears have flown enough to put an end to the drought. Margot was looking for life-altering ideas. I suggested that Lance and Sia meet up and do a site change together, with Margot and me providing assistance and encouragement. I left my mobile number in case she needed to get in touch. That evening, Margot was simply overjoyed that I had suggested the kids’ get together. Lance has no shame about any procedures concerning diabetes, however it will be interesting to see how Sia fares. In all seriousness, it would be fantastic to see her relax and accept the fact that no, she doesn’t have a stomach that is healing from over 8000 injections. She was very fortunate to be given a pump, only a few weeks after leaving hospital.

Which brings me to last but not least, Yasmine O’Donoghue. She has a 14 year old son named Jesse, who started pump therapy when he was 10. I had tried many times to make conversation with her, because, believe it or not, I actually thought that we could possibly be good candidates as friends. However, Yasmine was allergic to those nasty insulin pens. Our injection status always drew pitiful stares and upside down smiles. Whenever she would see Lance “old-schooling” it. I would always try to reverse the situation by giving the most dazzling smile I could conjure up. She would look at Lance and gesture sadly towards his bruised tummy.

Our paths crossed last week. I was picking up sugar-free, carbohydrate-free chocolate from a nearby pharmacy; she had just emerged from her chiropractor. She saw us from about five metres away, and sashayed her way over to us, planting kisses on cheeks, and an extra big hug for Lance.

“Yasmine, how ARE you?” I don’t know how I managed to sound so chipper.

“YOU ARE PUMPING! I heard all about it! Ooooh Lance, you MUST be thrilled that Mummy finally gave in and let you get a pump! Good for you!” she cooed.

There was deafening silence. My eyes narrowed like a cat on the prowl. Lance looked up at me; he knew how wrong that comment sounded. He wasn’t quite sure why. He just knew that Mrs O’Donoghue had made a rather nasty dig towards his mother.

I think she quickly realised her lack of tact had not been particularly well received.

“Listen, Kate, give me your address, and I will drop over and give you some of Jesse’s old holsters and pump pouches that don’t fit anymore!”

(As I am huge fan of accessories, whether it’s funky new luggage that I don’t need, pashminas, or Prada frames,(I don’t even WEAR glasses!) I have already invested in some cool skins for Lance’s pump, and a waist pouch, with a thigh pouch on the way.)

“Oh, thank you so much for the offer, but I already have all of those items!”I replied with a smile and a perky head tilt.

Oh, of course you do. Oh it’s just been so long since Jesse started pumping…” she sighed.

“It’s almost time for our upgrade, do you have any recommendations?”

(Jaw hit the floor.)

She was asking me ?  A few months ago, I was the woman who was looked upon as the kind of Mum who sent her kid to school in a home made knitted jumper a shade or three different than the school colours, rather than the specialty store variety that everyone else had.

I told Mrs O’Donoghue to come by my house anytime, as I had plenty of current literature about the pumps currently available in Australia.

She smiled, and gave me a distinct look of approval.

I was absolutely dumbfounded, whilst still being able to have a chuckle to myself. Is this what really happens? Was I really secretly looked down upon for all these years? Was I the topic of pity parties because I happen to be a single mother who doesn’t have full Private Health Insurance?

(In Australia, if you have been with your Private Health insurer for 12 months, most will pay out the entire  amount for insulin pumps.)

Just when I thought it couldn’t get anymore hilarious, Lance and I emerged from the supermarket today, with some weekend supplies. We collided with a woman who would like to think of herself as the closest thing to a Diabetes Educator, without acutally having the qualifications. (Granted, she is a vault of knowledge. I’ll give her that.)

Without saying a word, she slung her handbag over her shoulder, and began APPLAUDING us!

(For a split second, I thought I may have been on Candid Camera.)

Just like the people who approach you and ask to touch your pregnant belly, she asked Lance if she could see his site. Lance lifted his shirt, to reveal the evidence. She covered her mouth with one hand, and began fanning her eyes with the other…

OH PUH-LEESE. If there were tears, I was fearful that I may slap her wrist.

“Oh, it’s just so emotional when you see little ones finally get the pump..it’s such an amazing feeling knowing that their quality of life is going to be improved, and that they can live as close to being “normal” without a cure..”

Despite her initial over-the-top reaction, I couldn’t have agreed with her more.

So, we may be finally “pumping.” It’s hilarious that as a JDRF Advocate and JDRF Youth Ambassador respectively, Lance and I have been fighting to make people aware of the serious nature of his condition, and the truth behind Type 1 diabetes. However, within our small Type 1 Community, WE were being judged because of the way we chose to administer Lance’s insulin!!

We were the minority in a minority.

The past 2-and-a-half-weeks have shown that we are no longer recognised as wearing that knitted school jumper. Now that my son has a pump, he is considered to be uber cool in terms of owning superfly diabetes accessories. That’s until the next old-schooler moves up the ladder and begins pumping.

As far as I’m concerned, we were JUST as cool when we had toted our insulin pens and glucose tablets everywhere we went. I was proud to be an old-schooler. The way that Lance’s very first insulin injection transformed him within 45 minutes from a weak, almost unconscious baby into his babbling, curious and adorable self, smothering me in wet, slobbery kisses will always be a moment that is so incredibly dear to my heart.

Insulin is insulin.

I have become increasingly disturbed at the amount of people using various search engines and as a result,  finding my blog. Usually, I feel very honoured if someone stumbles across my posts and finds value in them, however at the moment, I am really troubled that my posts are being scoured for clues or approaches to the best way to overdose on insulin, or even more sinister than that, how to help your child die a painless death, rather than suffer Type 1 Diabetes. The following are a handful of entries that have come through in the past 10 days..

• Will child die if I stop insulin
• I want to die insulin od work
• cruel giving needles to 2 yo t1 baby can I stop
• fasting type 1 diabetic, will I die
• type 1 is too hard when you are a parent
• is it kinder to stop insulin inject than keep child alive
• religion says I must fast for a week, is it safe
• i have lived the hard life, how much insulin to die
• 4yo how long until dead w/o insulin
• is it quick painless death for child stopping insulin
• t1 so depressed I want to kill myself and kids
• is Humalog most effective to put me in a coma quickly
• God is so cruel to make my life this hard.
• Ending life with insulin.
• Will DKA be a painful death for my son?
• can insulin od be detected in autopsy
• i want my daughter to die rather than be diab.
• quickest way to send son unconscious via rapid insulin
• im ready to die diabetes is killing me
• 17 yo no insulin for 3 days type 1.

There’s more, but I’m too distressed to publish them, AND, I don’t want to give the impression that I am endorsing FASTING, WITHHOLDING INSULIN FROM A CHILD, OR OVERDOSING ON INSULIN as an easy way out.

Obviously, I have been attracting this variety of searcher as a result of publishing a recent post about Diabulimia, and an infamous true story of two parents, who deprived their child his insulin after turning to prayer, and being swamped with promises of a cure from fellow believers.

I’m at a loss. I had no idea that there could be so many people who would consider killing their child, or themselves, because the daily battle with Type 1 Diabetes has become too overwhelming.

This year, a couple ceased their child’s insulin injections, resulting in her death. They were charged with manslaughter.

I have posted about the serious danger of depriving insulin before on this blog, and I will continue to repeat myself if it means that just maybe, a life could be saved.

 Whether they receive injections or an infusion from a pump, stopping your child’s insulin will result in a rapid decline. They WILL develop DKA, which left untreated, will eventually leave them comatose, and without medical intervention, a fatality WILL occur.

I also received an email, asking whether it was “true” if you decrease insulin doses little by little over a few weeks until it is completely phased out, will the body adjust to this new state of being.

I replied to this email personally, but for those who have also heard “the rumour” circulating around internet sites, I’m posting the “TRUTH” on my blog.

Your child’s doctor or specialist has worked hard at finding a dose that is perfect for your child. They have taken into painstaking consideration factors such as body weight, metabolism, hypoglycaemic tendencies…it’s a meticulous conclusion that is eventually drawn. You are then given the easy job. You are given a prescription, which has precise dosages for certain times of the day. The insulin is clearly labelled ,along with the doctor’s instructions by your pharmacist.

IT’s UP TO YOU, THE PARENT OF YOUR CHILD, TO GIVE THOSE DOSES, EACH AND EVERYDAY.

We must take into consideration, that, despite the phenomenal work that is being done around the world to find the elusive cure, for now, there IS NOT a cure for Type 1 Diabetes.

HOWEVER, we are blessed and privileged to have the gift of INSULIN, which allows a person with Diabetes to LIVE. In the case of a child, who relies, and depends on their parent to administer their medication, it is their RIGHT to receive it. If they were given the gift of life, they can certainly continue living ,with good health and happiness despite the diagnosis. 

I have dealt with the horribly difficult days over the past six years. Lance was diagnosed when he was so young, I have been responsible for his insulin administration and full time care since he was a baby, then a toddler, then a little boy, and now an almost 8 year old. I am the first to admit, that there are times where there are most certainly unbearable and frustrating days. However, so would a parent of a child without Type 1 Diabetes!

Having grown up living with Diabetes, Lance accepts it and deals with it, because he KNOWS he doesn’t have any other choice. He KNOWS the feeling of when he has been sick, and as a result, has had high levels resulting in large ketones.

When he was a baby, and couldn’t communicate verbally with me, I have all of the horrific memories burnt into my retina. I have looked on in horror and desperation as he writhed in agony, entangled in the sheets..lifting his knees up to his tummy to try and relieve the nagging stomach cramping, then,seconds later, extending his legs out straight to try and relieve the leg cramping.  Despite syphoning litres of water and fluids into his system,I have seen his little body begin to dehydrate before my eyes. I have seen him bedridden and hallucinating. I have carried his limp body to the toilet whilst he excretes sugar saturated urine. I have sung every song I could think of in an attempt to soothe his crazed state, and I have massaged his head; I have seen the vein in his temple pulsing as a result of a violent headache. I have fed his hunger with the food that he desperately wanted, only to have it vomited back all over me. I have watched his eyes roll backwards in his head. Then the endless screaming, which would peak to forte, and then drop back again to mezzo piano. Replay that same scenario 50 times. Most horrifying of all, I have watched him teeter in and out of altered states of consciousness. Lapsing into DKA is not a tranquil, serene process. It is inhumane, agonizing and sickening to think of a child falling deeper and deeper into this horrible condition.

This was what my son went through when he still was making SOME insulin himself. He easily could have died a few hours later, according to the endocrinologist. I shudder when I think of the agony he endured, without being able to speak a word or express any emotion except for his screams…(which will haunt me for the rest of my days….)

Imagine the confusion, torment and agony that a child or teenager would go through, knowing that insulin could correct these nightmarish symptoms,yet you, their parent refused to administer it?

If you are feeling like you are not coping with the demands of your child’s diabetes, SEEK IMMEDIATE HELP.

If you go through with insulin deprivation, and you get the intended result, you will live your life knowing that you killed your child, and you’ll probably have plenty of lonely hours to think about it, as the law does not look kindly upon parents who neglect their children’s compulsory health requirements. Without a shadow of a doubt, this act would be classified as manslaughter first, followed closely by child abuse; two charges that DON’T look good together.

There is no need for a child to live a life of misery, just because they have Type 1 DIabetes. Organisations like Diabetes Australia and JDRF provide so much valued support and encouragement for parents and kids alike.

If you do have religious beliefs that require periods of fasting, it is in YOUR and YOUR CHILD’s best interest to discuss the situation thoroughly with your doctor. Some doctors will allow fasting in the case of  controlled Type 2 Diabetes, however, generally, anyone with Type 1 Diabetes (who would probably be known within a congregation as being dependent on insulin) would be strongly advised not to participate in fasting. It is almost a certainty that disaster would strike.

 We all know that Type 1 DIabetes is a heavy duty, royal pain in the butt at times. However, if you prefer to think of your child as dead than “suffering” with diabetes, then you need to read about how insulin was first discovered in a desperate attempt to save the lives of those with Type 1 Diabetes.In the mid 1900’s, once symptoms presented themselves, a sufferer would be lucky to live 3 days.The miracle of insulin to treat Type 1 Diabetes should be considered a gift from God, considering the limited technology available at that time. Sufferers who were dying, lying emaciated in hospital, pure skin and bones, their condition worsening every hour and not expected to last the day were started on insulin therapy. Weeks later, many were able to walk out of hospital, well on their way to a full recovery, thanks to the sheer and determined genious of the two scientists who fought day and night to find ”the cure.”

I know what it’s like to plunge the end of a syringe into velvety, dimpled baby flesh. It is heartbreaking, and it’s something that takes a lot of courage. In your heart, you know that you have absolutely no choice, so you plant a smile on your face, get ”it” over with as quickly as possible and give an abundance of affection and encouragement. I have learnt that despite their vulnerablity, young children are so resillient. They can deal with the most uncomfortable or painful situations, and just cope. As difficult as it is to associate a soft, cuddly baby with needles and pricking holes into their doll-like fingers, they soon accept daily “ouches” as part of life.  My son was so small, and he never used to cry when he got his shots, he’d frown and his entire body would jerk. Now, it is nothing for me to walk past Lance, complete with glucometer set up, and testing his own blood sugar levels.

If you are having thoughts of using insulin for reasons other than what it is intended for, I am providing some crisis phone numbers (Australia only) that provide counselling on a strictly confidential basis. I IMPLORE of you to use them if needed, as they are a valuable outlet for you to vent your thoughts without being judged or identified.

 Life Line Australia Crisis Line-13 22 14. 24 hour counselling service.

Salvation Army Crisis Line (24 Hours):03 9536 7777

Both of these organisations can provide you with support and can guide you to the most appropriate means of help.

If you have Type 1 Diabetes, and also suffer from bulimia nervosa, (commonly known as diabulimia)-and you have not administered any insulin for a number of days and are showing symptoms of DKA, I plead with you to call an ambulance, but because I know that those with eating disorders are reluctant to seek medical advice, I have provided a link for a online support group. However, remember that you are literally playing with a life and death situation. You could easily black out and never wake up.

www.reachout.com.au      Information and support so you can get through your own tough times.

To be really honest, if you are neglecting your own health because you “have to,” that’s your choice.

My greatest fear and the reason for this post is for innocent, young children, who rely on insulin to live, but have a parent or guardian who is questioning whether they want to continue giving it.

For those who are feeling so desperate and feel that a life free of diabetes would be more rewarding than a life without your child, please have a look at these links.

http://pandagon.blogsome.com/2008/03/29/child-dies-because-parents-choose-prayer-over-insulin/

http://wcco.com/local/praying.parents.arrested.2.684930.html

BRIGHTON, Colo. (AP) – A woman whose diabetic son died after she allegedly
stopped giving him insulin injections was charged with child abuse resulting in
death.

Rebecca Ramirez, 26, was arrested Nov. 13, nearly three months after 8-year-old
Daniel Ramirez’s death. She appeared in court Monday for formal filing of the
charge and is free on $50,000 bail.

Prosecutors claim the boy died because Mrs. Ramirez failed to give him his
insulin. In the days before Daniel’s death, investigators said, his mother took
him to church services and asked a pastor to pray for him.

She wrote “Daniel healed” on her calendar and stopped giving the boy insulin,
investigators said. He died within three days.

When questioned, Mrs. Ramirez told authorities they misinterpreted her words.
“I meant prayed for, not healed,” she said.

Ramirez’ attorney, Gene Ciancio, said he had just been hired and was not
prepared to discuss his client’s case. Mrs. Ramirez’s next court appearance is
set for January.

AP-NY-12-02-97  

I

I recently posted an interview about an amazing and inspirational man with Type 1 Diabetes, who had won his battle against severe, life threatening bulimia.

Diabulimia is only a relatively new term, but it is very real and many type 1 diabetics of all ages, but particularly young teens and adolescents are falling victim to it.

Tragically, there are people all over the world taking unbelievably dangerous chances with their health and, potentially, their lives.

Puberty is a serious condition all on its own, and diabetes just makes it worse.

All it takes is for a young person with Diabetes to have high blood sugars for a few days, and they will quickly become aware that they can shed kilograms without any effort at all.

It then becomes very tempting to continue remaining high; all that is required is to become committed to “skipping” their insulin regime. The constant threat of DKA, liver enlargement, premature kidney damage, premature eye problems are all common complications-the symptoms of what can be considered long term complications appear much earlier, and are much more sinister. Adolescents with diabetes aren’t immune to how society perceives and admires Hollywood-ites, or to compete with their peers into what they consider is the epitome of cool/beautiful/or what men want them to look like. Extra kilograms become just as disgusting as diabetes itself. Thus, this condition, that is not yet recognised as a medical condition is silently rampant in younger diabetic communities.

I received a very brave, and courageous email from a reader named Jacq, who has spent the past weeks devoting herself to creating a website. The subject matter is very close to her heart.

Jacq, the creator of Sugar Rush has taken on a huge task by creating a support network for those who may be short-term or long-term suffers of Diabulimia. She is so determined to make a difference, that she is going to study Psychology at Uni this October, in an attempt to help other young people like her, and to give this silent diabetic complication an identity.

In the past, most people with Diabulimia were treated as suffering from bulimia,( who just also happened to suffer from Type 1 Diabetes.) Eventually, it became recognised that having Type 1 Diabetes and Bulimia was becoming more than a coincidence-it was a legitimate problem concerning teens or young people with type 1 Diabetes. Psychologists are hesitant to give Diabulimia a title, and prefer to address the key problem as simply bulimia.

However, the symptoms of Bulimia Nervosa are binge eating huge amounts of food, followed by purging (vomiting ) or using a laxative to rid the body of as much of what was consumed as possible, repeatedly, each and everyday. The binge/purge pattern is not neccessarily typical behaviour of Diabulimia. The main objective is to stay as high as is “safely” possible; high enough to function, and to hold off from having to use insulin for as long as possible , without accidently lasping into a Diabetic Coma, and facing the “worst” case scenario-their secret being revealed to their parents, peers or waking up attached to a drip. Witholding insulin will see the body begin to cannibalize itself, eating away muscle, fat stores, therefore leaving sufferers elated at the weight loss they have experienced with very little effort.

"The only consistency in a bulimic's life is Bulimia...imagine the chaos of Type 1 Diabetes thrown in for good measure?

The constant threat of DKA hovers over a diabulmic’s head, but the lure of keeping the kilograms off is much more tempting.

I would love you to visit Jacq’s site, she is eager to have as many people contribute as possible. Working on this project has been highly beneficial for her recovery!

She is providing a fantastic community service for those who live in this silent world. People with Diabulmia now have the opportunity to have a voice, and know that they most certainly are not alone.

http://www.sugarrushme.synthasite.com/index.php

I would recommend this site to anyone who has an adolescent teenage daughter OR son with Type 1 Diabetes. Hormones and increased insulin injections play havoc on the adolescent body. The desire to become as perfect as they can be, in an attempt to impress society or to increase self-esteem issues has escalated out of control, for both sexes. In fact, some doctors are comparing the diagnosis ratio between females and males as 2:1.

It would mean so much if you could take the time to read Jacq’s story, and add her URL address to your blogrolls.

It could mean that a lost and lonely soul who is living a a life of deceit and secrecy, and finds they have little or no choice but to exist in a world of silence and shame may stumble upon Jacq’s site, and at last, feel like they can relax and know they have a safe place to visit. Maintaining bulimia and uncontrolled Type 1 Diabetes would equate to a 24 hour job, and just maybe, Jacq’s page may allow sufferers to feel like it isn’t necessary to participate in self-loathing and such damaging acts to their bodies quite so much. Feeling like the shackles were loosened and the lights turned on would be the most emancipating feeling for this tiring, extreme and horrific condition.

We focus so much on retinopathy, HBAIC results, hypers, hypos, kidney problems, all totally worthwhile topics to have a good vent about, but imagine if mentally, you had NO control over this dangerous and life-threatening condition.

I have to congratulate Jacq for having the courage and the strength to speak so candidly about her condition. It is difficult to read, and those who do not understand mental illness may have a difficult time accepting that this is actually a real and fatal condition.

Jacq is officially a SuperFriend of Why Did The Insulin Die? for standing up and making a difference-we wish her the very best on her journey to full recovery.

Bravo, Jacq.

If you feel like you identify with any symptoms of Diabulimia, you can anonymously contact a support group called lifegoeson.org.au which offers strategies and choices to get through any serious illness.

1300 364 673 (Australia only.)

There is also a fantastic page: http://www.eatingdisorders.org.au/content/view/16/37/ that offers many links to different groups in various states in Australia. Interestingly, Diabetes Australia is listed.

When I was younger than Lance, there was a great Australian television icon.

Norm.

Norm, the lovable, lazy, beer-swilling, tv watching character I grew up with.

Norm was the face of a collection of advertisements called, Life. Be In It. Despite his portly gut, he encouraged us to go out and play a game of volleyball, cricket or go fo a swim.To make the most out of life. He even told us to “slip on a shirt, slop on sunscreen and slap on a hat.” People started to realise that they didn’t want to be a “Norm”, complete with beer belly and staggered gait. It made people start to think about how much alcohol we, as a nation were consuming, what types of food we were eating and whether we were socialising enough through exercise.

Suddenly, Norm disappeared from our television screens.

Ironically, twenty-five years later, Norm is celebrating his TV debut.

Earlier this year, deplorable figures shot shockwaves throughout the country. Nine million Australians are overweight or obese. This takes the chocolate creamcake!! We beat the supersized Americans for the number ONE position as the most overweight country in the world. Despite the images depicted in Australia of Americans adoring junk food, for our little continent to whoop the pants off America, that’s quite a feat, when you consider the vast differences in population!!!

Australians All Let's Pass The Sauce...

What a National Disgrace!

The Fat of the Land!

Type 2 Diabetes numbers are soaring, hospital beds are filling, enlarged hearts are beating to their full capacity. Parents have no idea that by grabbing fast food on their way home from work, with kids in tow, that they are educating their children with their same, lazy messages and attitudes about food!!

Thank goodness for the likes of Jamie Oliver and Nigella Lawson, who have made home cooked, healthy choice meals appealing and popular to younger men and women. Growing your own vegetable garden is something that many people now enjoy doing.

 Regardless, we are still a pack of NORMS!!!

It’s devastating!

The most horrific part of it all is that children who are Lance’s age are being diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes EVERYDAY. It’s then a tired, frazzled parent like me, who feels emotive enough to write a Letter to the Editor, and explain that my son had no say in his diagnosis, but Muskstick Sally has probably been fed fast foods all her life, therefore, her body is calling out for more insulin to cover her increasing girth. Damn you, PARENTS!!!

If we are still Number 1 next year,  we are officially relocating to Tokyo.

I’m sure the D word isn’t mentioned as much over there.

“If it doesn’t run in your family, then how did your son get Type 1 Diabetes?”

I get asked this question SO often, that I want to get some freaky tattoo on my forehead and grow a unicorn horn so that people will be afraid to approach me.

In all seriousness, it appears like Diabetes Australia have been busy little bees, doing lots of research about the escillating rates of Type 1 Diabetes, and even looking at some environmental causes as to why children in particular are more vulnerable to developing the condition.

It seems that in the time since Lance was diagnosed, 2 more Australian children are diagnosed everyday. 6000 new cases of Type 1 Diabetes have been diagnosed between 2000-2006.

Scientists have stopped skitting and scatting and are now acknowledging that there are environmental factors that cause Type 1 Diabetes.

They are questioning the introduction of cow’s milk over breastfeeding, and a lack of Vitamin D during pregnancy as possible causes for the flareup in diagnoses. (Personally, I say a big fat phooey to these suggestions, as Lance was still being breastfed when he was diagnosed, and I walked almost EVERYWHERE in Brisbane (notorious for its blistering heat) when I was pregnant. I feel confident that I had plentiful stocks of Vitamin D.

However, I feel it’s really important to report any new statistics or research that is happening in Australia. Despite our little nation being so far away from where other promising investigations are happening, I am actually very proud of the work that JDRF and Diabetes Australia does to fund the best possible research and trials. So with that, I bring you the latest news.

From 2000-2006, 6000 children had newly acquired Type 1 Diabetes. One of those 6000 children is Lance, who was dignosed in 2002. These stats show that IDDM is on the rise 3-and-a-half percent every year.

Australia has the sixth largest incidence of Type 1 Diabetes in the world. Tasmania has the largest percentage per 100 000 of daily diagnoses in childen under 14, which was much higher that New South Wales, Queensland, or the Northern Territory-the vicinity with the least amount of daily diagnoses.

Finland, Norway and Sweden have the highest incidences of Type 1 Diabetes in children in the world.

(So, what’s going on in Scandanavia? Three gorgeous, first world countries have the highest percentage of the most common childhood chronic disease on the planet. Hmm.)

In the year 2000, 19 out of 100 000 children were diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. In 2006, the number of diagnoses had increased to 23 out of 100 000 children.

In this study, it was also apparent that there were almost 9000 new cases in people 15 or over, with males twice as likely than females to develop the disease.

Pleasingly, the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare also acknowledged in their report that young adults aren’t immune to Type 1 Diabetes. They publically announced that contrary to popular belief, it’s not all about young children anymore and that adults of all ages are diagnosed on a daily basis.

The President of Diabetes Australia, Dr Gary Deed said, “There obviously therefore must be some environmental factors driving this increase because on average the blend of Australians and the genetic type of Australians hasn’t changed dramatically over the last five years.”

Dr Deed also confirmed that those who had autoimmune conditions such as coeliac disease, thyroid diseases and rheumatoid arthritis were more susceptible to having Type 1 diabetes.

“Certain viruses in a susceptible individual may cause the eruption of autoimmunity to the pancreas and thus causing Type 1 diabetes,” he said.

There is also a current investigation into whether there was a link between Coxfackie viruses, which can cause cold-like symptoms, and Type 1 Diabetes.

“Early dietary exposure to forms of cows milk have been also studied and that research is ongoing,” Dr Deed said.

Dr Deed said to decrease their child’s risk of having Type 1 diabetes, mothers should ensure they have enough Vitamin D during pregnancy and breastfeed. ( I feel it’s a little premature to be making calls like this; sure, research is underway, but nothing is proven by any means. Hey, listen to Dr Deed over me however. I’m sure he’s not the President of Diabetes Australia because his body shape does justice to a Barnaby Bee costume!)

Barnaby Bee-The Mascot Of Diabetes Australia. Cute!

So there you have it. That’s the news about how Type 1 Diabetes in Australia, and what investigations and research are currently underway in an attempt irradicate it from the Medical Dictionary permanently.