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Friday 22 June 2012

Honeymoon's aren't just for lovers


After weeks of multiple hypos I finally went back to my Zumba class last Saturday. My instructor rubbed my arm to make sure I was real. Which was quite awkward, but that's how she rolls, and I'm OK with that, considering one day she will probably be squeezing my finger trying to make me bleed onto a small strip.
Eventually I was asked where I had been. And my answer was 'Honeymooning'. Which I always forget non-Type-1-diabetic's don't understand because everyone immediately looked at my ring finger (still bare). So then we went into the honeymoon explanation, whereby my pancreas has decided that it doesn't like to be outshone by anything else and makes a half-arsed attempt to get all jesus-like and raise itself from the dead. Or maybe like a Zombie. Yeah a Zombie. I have a Zombie Pancreas. Its like a little alive, but not really.

Anyway, we discussed how the honeymoon period sucks and screws everything up, etc etc. Which is quite rude of it really, because so far I have only been told how wonderful the honeymoon period is. In fact my Endo was super excited about it and said she 'hoped it would stay for another 6 months or so'. I wanted to punch her. Mainly because:

1. - She banned me from exercise that day. Although I can go again now I really really wanted to go that 1 specific day. I totally felt like exercise. But you know, 5 hypos on no insulin except your long-acting is kinda crap. I guess she didn't want me dieing or whatever.
2. - It put my plans for Lewis on hold. And I really, really want Lewis. So bad right now.
3. - Yes, needles suck and I hate them. They hurt every damn time (which, by the way, the medical world will lie to you about and tell you that so long as you do them correctly you won't feel a thing. Don't believe them. You can't convince someone to hurt themselves intentionally at least 5 times a day by telling them how much it hurts). Honeymooning makes needle time even harder because you're doing it for 1 unit. ONE FRICKEN UNIT. Feels like such a waste to go through all that pain just for one unit.
4. - Hypos. Like BHAM. Everywhere I look.
5. - I just want to know my carb to insulin ratios. Currently I do not know my ratios because they change at every butterfly fart.

So here's hoping my pancreas doesn't get its fix of brains and continues on its merry way to an early grave. Its getting between me and Lewis.

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