Diabetes Wise

A Halloween Confession

I have a confession to make.

I don't 'get' Halloween.

This isn't actually as much as a biggie as it may sound to my US-based friends. Amongst my UK friends, I'm definitely not alone.

When I was a kid, Halloween certainly wasn't a big deal. We may have made ghoulish masks in school art classes and tried our hand at writing a ghost story in English. A few hardy souls might have braved the cold for a trick-or-treat outing that consisted of knocking on their neighbourhood friends' doors. Knocks that had already been planned and agreed by parents in advance. And everyone was safe and warm at home by 7pm. I certainly don't recall any dressing up or parties, and the involvement of adults didn't appear to extend beyond supervising their kids. Halloween candy was never as much of a challenge to my diabetes control as Christmas, and the event itself definitely paled in comparison to the excitement of Guy Fawkes' Night five days later.

It's certainly picked up a little as an event these days. I've still not seen any pumpkins on porches or in windows, but the shop decorations and themed candy are certainly abundant.

But there's a big difference in how we do it.

The morning starts with reports on breakfast television of what measures different police forces are taking to handle the mischief caused by Halloween including limitation of sales of flour, eggs and shaving foam and placing extra community support officers on duty (paid for by the taxpayer, I must add). I don't know anyone who dresses up to go to work - costume parties are very few and far between too.

Trick or treating happens though.

Groups of kids running wild like packs of feral animals until well past what should surely be their bedtimes. Most of these kids haven't even made an effort at a costume and trick-or-treat becomes a misnomer as these kids brazenly demand their treat, or worse, just demand money. If the phrase 'trick-or-treat' gets mentioned at all, it translates as "give me a treat or I'll play a horrible trick on you" where the trick may range from an assault on your house with eggs and shaving foam to windows being broken or even a lit firework being shoved through the letterbox flap on your front door - a side effect of the proximity of Halloween and Guy Fawkes.

So no, I don't 'get' Halloween, or the hype that surrounds it across the pond. Here, it seems to be a defining celebration of the antisocial behaviour plaguing chunks of Britain's youth.

As a reflection of society, I guess I really see it as a pretty sad day.

On your marks...

The end of the week brings the beginning of November.

And November brings NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo.

There are plenty of D Bloggers joined up. Bernard has even started a Diabetes Bloggers Group on the NaBlo site. I've discovered at least a couple of other diabetes bloggers, besides me, who are also insane enough to attempt to write a 50,000 word novel during the month.

Come on guys. It'll be fun!

I'll be writing chick-lit for the first time ever for Nano, in the hope that it is as easy to write as it is to read! The plot revolves around two friends making a pact to marry each other if they haven't found anyone else suitable by a certain time. When the time comes round, he quite likes the idea. Trouble is, she can think of nothing worse.

See...fun, I tell you!

(And you bet both dentistry and diabetes will feature in the story. Write what ya know, and all that!)

If you're planning on Nanoing too, you're very welcome to buddy me. My profile is here. 

I'm off to enjoy some of the last of my freedom. Good luck to everyone else!

Is there anywhere they don't end up?

I was cleaning out the filter in the dishwasher earlier. Along with a stray food scrap I found a used test strip and one of those plastic Quick-Set donut caps.

And rinsing the shampoo out of my hair in the shower the other morning, I glanced down to see a test strip circling the drain.

Is there anywhere this crap doesn't end up?

I can't help but wish for the day when I can ban it from my house. The day when I don't have to rely on this stuff anymore.

The Nature of Fear

Twenty years ago last night, England was hit by its biggest storm  in living memory. The storm that wiped 15 million trees off the face of the country, cut electricity and telephone communications for days and claimed no more than 23 lives only by virtue of the fact that it struck at night when most people were safely tucked up in their beds.

Growing up in the far south-eastern corner of the country close to the Kent town of Sevenoaks, famously reduced to One Oak by the storm, my family was right in its path. The picture here is of nearby Emmetts Garden.

Listening to the then-director of the National Electricity Grid talking on a television documentary tonight about making the monumental decision to flip the switch that would throw the entire south east including London into complete darkness, that would make us literally powerless in the face of the onslaught and that would lead many people to believe Armageddon was truly upon them, I felt the fear. Looking right now at the brightness of the lights just over the river in Canary Wharf and comparing it to the CGI of London that night on the television sends chills running down my spine. Use of the music from the soundtrack of '28 Days Later' was in no way out of place.

I remember that night as though it were much more recent than twenty years ago. Beyond spending the early hours huddled together in my parent's bedroom, our cat rescued from the garden by my dad and celebrating with my brother that there would definitely be no school tomorrow, the biggest thing I remember is the initial total lack of fear.

Back then, I was the kind of kid who wouldn't move from my bed during a thunderstorm that struck at night. Paralysed by fear, I'd stay buried beneath the covers no matter how hot I got, no matter how desperately I wanted to use the bathroom or how low I thought my blood sugar could be. But lots of people were afraid of thunderstorms. I perceived there had to be something to be afraid of.

Waking up that October night in 1987, the noise was like a washing machine reaching its spin cycle with a vacuum cleaner running at full speed over the top. The wind roared and growled around the house. Leaves, twigs and other debris battered the windows of my bedroom and the curtains flapped in the whistling breeze that seeped around their edges.

But I got out of the bed and headed for the bathroom without a thought.

I didn't know what was happening around me and with no preconceived ideas, I didn't realise how very much there really was to fear.

The big storm taught me something very powerful about the nature of fear. I didn't fear it, because I didn't know there was anything to fear.

I didn't fear diabetes either, when I was diagnosed. I didn't know then how much there is to fear.

Blog Action: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

We may not think of it often, but having type 1 diabetes and using an insulin pump has an enormous potential for impact on the environment. The miles our supplies are shipped, the extra car journeys to collect supplies and prescriptions or attend hospital visits and not least of all the extra waste. And while having type 1 diabetes in the UK may exempt me from having to pay from those prescriptions and supplies, it doesn't exempt me, or any of us, from a commitment to support the environment of the world we live in.

I'm particularly conscious of the amount of extra waste diabetes and pump supplies generate on a weekly basis.

Granted, reduction in the number of supplies we use isn't really a feasible option - death generates a fair amount of carbon! But what about the manufacturers? Sara  posted here about collecting a million of the tiny plastic donuts that fit over Medtronic Quicksets. I can't remember the last time I used one of these. Probably around a month after I started pumping when I realised that you don't need the cap to seal the set, just to make the edges smoother. No one has ever complained about my rough edges, so now I toss the caps in the bin at every set change. How many more go to the same fate? Is it really necessary for the manufacturers to include one of these plastic caps with every set rather than, say, two in every box of ten? If enough of us tackle them on it, along with sending them 1 million back, is it just possible we could make a difference?

As far as recycling goes, whilst I diligently separate out my glass, plastics and paper for recycling, I rarely give more thought to diabetes waste than 'sharps' or 'not sharps'.

Necessarily we all ditch a lot of plastic every year that is attached to the sharps we must dispose of in a safe way. But as for the rest - I'm certainly guilty of just balling everything up together and tossing it in the bin. The plastic cartons that hold infusion sets - they can be recycled. The paper lid covering the plastic carton, and the paper tabs holding the tubing in a loop - those can too. The outer cartons holding sets, reservoirs and insulin bottles or any other medication - definitely fit for the recycling pile.

And although I'm not sure whether insulin vials would be accepted for glass recycling, Julia has made the very creative suggestion of saving them up to make a novel set of Christmas lights. Along similar reuse lines, test strip pots make wonderful holders for all kinds of fiddly items and I'm told used infusion set tubing, with the ends snipped off, has a multitude of uses in the garden!

Much as one person turning out their lights or not leaving the television on standby won't make much difference, one person reducing, reusing or recycling their diabetes supplies won't make much difference either. But what if we all did it?

I challenge you all to think about it today.

 

The Verdict?

That exam that I took: I PASSED!

To say I'm happy would be an understatement.

I spent yesterday afternoon at a revision session for the next part - the practical part - of the exam. In addition to five face-to-face grillings with examiners the afternoon included the bizarre experience of or a mocked-up patient encounter with a female character played by a man! The feedback for this scenario? I was told that I was "too aware that I was being watched" and "seemed to be acting." No kidding! It wasn't exactly reality!

I also had to smile when during a generic advice session we were told: "If in doubt about a medical condition say diabetes. Diabetes is somehow related to everything!" I guess I couldn't argue with that.

In other news, it is a good job that I'm not entered to sit this exam at its next sitting in November. Somehow I've found myself signed up for both NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo and have therefore kissed goodbye to my November!

I've tried all the excuses:

"It wasn't me."

"I was just holding the computer for someone else when it signed me up...."

"I didn't mean to do it" (This one is true, I really didn't. Well, not both anyway.)

I'm actually hoping NaBloPoMo will help me cement a regular blog writing routine and possibly expand my subject matter outside of diabetes. As for NaNoWriMo... Well, it'll be fun.

Go on, you know it will. Come and join me!

And finally, October 15th is Blog Action Day. One Issue. One Day. Thousands of voices.. In its inaugural year Blog Action Day will be coordinating bloggers to tackle the issue of the environment. Check out the site, and join in.

Going for the Jugular

Today I went for a hydrocortisone day curve analysis, to check whether the levels of steroids I'm taking for my Addison's are correct. This is the first of a number of protracted tests I'm having over the next month or so, to check up on the Addison's and my waning pituitary function. My body certainly failed the 'endocrine' part of the 'how to be a great human body' course!

I have notoriously difficult veins to find for blood tests and cannulation. I've known anaesthetists to curse in frustration in the face of my tiny, wiggly veins and a junior doctor to hurl his equipment down in defeat.

So getting the cannula in my vein was the only part of today I was dreading. It turned out to be with good cause.

Several attempts by several members of staff later, I was getting anxious. This is a long test that I wanted to get underway, and having taken a day off work specifically there was no way I wanted to abandon the attempt.

"We'll have to go for the jugular then" said the doctor attending to me.

I'm not squeamish - I'm a dentist after all. And I'm not even unduly squeamish about procedures carried out on me - I've even let them use my feet before. But somehow the tears were escaping before I could even fully get my head around the idea.

Having a three inch needle shoved into your neck is, I can confirm, not the most pleasant experience in the world. But two fantastic nurses and a very gentle doctor make all the difference in the world.

And here's my reminder:

The good part? It didn't have a negative effect on my blood sugars and neither, so it seems, did a day of lying in bed! (The upper line = 9mmol/162mg/dL, the lower line = 4mmol/72mg/dL. Yes, that is my MacBook the pump is resting on, and yes it needs a clean!)

The bad part? I've got a repeat performance to look forward to in three weeks time.

Updates - Exams and Pumps

1. My new pump has arrived.

Yay!

And, it arrived on time as promised. Double yay!

In fact, even Medtronic were impressed at their own efficiency. On Friday morning, when I already had the new pump attached and pumping the telephone rang.

"Hi, I'm just calling from Medtronic. I understand that you have a pump that needs replacing" came the chirpy greeting.

"Well I did. It's been replaced though, thanks" I replied.

"Oh no, the American technical assistance line isn't able to replace them direct, so it hasn't actually been replaced yet" she said, with the patient manner of someone who has had to explain this point before.

"Erm... I can assure you that it has. The new pump arrived this morning and I'm wearing it now!" I responded.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry..."

"No problem, it was already dealt with yesterday."

"Well, that's great..." I don't think she knew what else to say, caught off guard that the job had already been done. I'd definitely rather they tried to replace it twice than not at all!

I'm also pleased to find that Medtronic no longer demand that I pay the cost of shipping and insurance to get the old pump back to them. This was an aspect of their customer service that really bugged me a few years back. I once had two pumps to ship back to them at once where the total cost would have come to around twenty pounds. In that case I dropped the pumps off at my hospital and let the rep pick them up from there, but glad I can simply send this one off at the Post Office.

2. The exam went pretty well.

Went well, insofar as there were a decent number of very straightforward questions that I definitely knew the answers to.

Went well, insofar as nobody batted an eyelid about my pump, clipped visibly on my waistband, or  my test kit laid on the desk and called in to service twice during the three hour paper. After all my panicking it turned out that I actually knew the exam coordinator from when I was an undergrad!

The exam did not go so well with regard to my actual blood sugars, which hovered between 10 and 13 (180 - 235) throughout, failing to respond to corrections.

It must have been stress, because the minute I left the exam hall, it started falling nicely.