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Sunday, 2 December 2012

And So it Continues

I'm hurtling towards the end of the 1st leg of my life with D. 8 months have come and gone. In that time I have completely faced and locked horns with my fear of needles, and I'm pretty sure I'm winning. I have seen numbers that give me nightmares. I have learnt the carb count of coco pops off by heart. I have hypoed; stuck in my car waiting for my numbers to climb more times than I care to count. I got my licence...with D (which actually, I think one of the major reasons I was passed was because of the way I handled D in the exam). I have eaten a sausage flavoured jellybean - consequently I will never keep 'Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans' as a hypo treatment anymore. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. I have seen my first World Diabetes Day come and go and spammed my Facebook with it. I have realised how little people know about T1 Diabetes. And that it just not possible for me to punch everyone who says something dumb about it to me in the face. 

I met Lewis. 

As we round closer to the Christmas end of my 1st year with D I wonder what to expect. Obviously, I'll eat whatever the hell I want. I'm T1. In saying that, I do try to keep a low GI diet. 

I don't want any presents. I usually know what I want, but this year, I haven't got a clue. I've been so pre-occupied with BGLs and set changes and all that other diabetes crap that I haven't had the time to even go to a shop and see whats new. I guess what I'd love most would be for Santa to swing his big old sack over and  come good on my lifetime warranty on my pancreas, agree to take mine back to the store for a new one. But I don't think that's happening any time soon. And it wouldn't be Santa dishing out those goods.
I have to face my family. My family is huge, loud and most of the time I'm with them, they are all yelling at each other about how much they all hate each other in the nicest way possible. I've seen all my dad's family since diagnosis, and actually they're pretty good. Besides one uncle who told me to lay off the sugar (and who could lay off the sweet stuff himself), they all seem to want to know more. My immediate family are a little less awesome. I have 3 siblings who, at the mention of my diabetes, manage to all develop spontaneous hearing impairment until the topic is changed. Or who, in the case of my little brother, will adamantly tell me I can't eat chocolate before developing this rare spontaneous hearing loss impairment when an explanation as to why I can is entered into. My dad is my dad. He has himself to look after. My mum tries very hard. But she thinks 10 is amazeballs and I'll die if I hit 4. She also thinks its helpful to tell me stories about 'this one old person she looked after' and how they're on dialysis and blind and missing 20 limbs because of their diabetes. Thankyou. I wasn't scared enough already.

So I will face my mums family. I see them once every 2 years. Usually at weddings. Or Christmas. They're probably all likely to think my glucometer is some sort of fancy blood alcohol measuring device and will probably all demand to use it to see if they can drive at the end of the day. Except for J. My cousin. Diagnosed with T1D years ago. And I'm actually really nervous about seeing him. I don't know why. He has D, I have D.

But I'm definitely avoiding this.

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