Hobnobs in Hiding pt.2

 

Did you ever have a bad experience with alcohol? Or perhaps you ate at a particular restaurant and got sick. Did you then spend a while, avoiding that drink or that meal? Maybe you've never eaten or drunk something since the time you were left with no option but to bark into the toilet bowl, soon after. I don't blame you. That's exactly how I feel about Hobnobs but only the original ones. Cover them in chocolate (as seen above) and I'm more than happy to ruin my blood glucose for them. There is nothing wrong with the biscuits, per se, it all stems back to my childhood memories of them.

Hopefully you've read part one of this blog already. If not, just click/tap that link and catch up.

After feeding David hundreds of biscuits and probably tens of thousands of extra calories, hiding Hobnobs in school desks, school bins and my heavily policed home bin, you might think that enough was enough when it was time to start Secondary School. Wrong! A new term, a new school, new classmates, new biscuit hiding challenges! We go again! Raaaaaar!

Initially, I tried my old route of palming off my silver foiled packets of snacks to David. Things had changed. David was less keen to be given food. Perhaps he thought I considered him some kind of charity case, starving for my daily crumby offerings. In addition, the "big school" was exactly that and David wasn't always in my class and had made new friends. Dammit! It was time for a new plan.

The school bins were an option for me on some days. On others, I was a long way from any form of bin and had to take my Hobnobs home but not to deposit in the home bin. I'd already learned my lesson about dumping things there! In my wisdom I decided to hide these little packets under my bed. How very child-like! but, then I was only 11. If you're wondering how many Hobnobs will fit under a child's single bed then the answer is several hundred.

That worked well for a while until the day came for my mum to vacuum my room. Let's call this "H-Day".

I'd like to describe an almighty telling off, here. Something to big-up the drama of that moment. All bloggers use some artistic licence, right? That didn't happen. I was asked "Why?" and my response, blurted out without any real thought: "I don't like them any more".

I mean, it wasn't a lie! but it wasn't the whole truth, either. I didn't want to be the focus of attention, I didn't want to be different, I didn't want to be more different, I was already different. Even at 11, I thought that conversation wasn't something I and my parents were ready for. I didn't want to worry or upset them as much as I didn't want to confess my "weakness".

Finally, things changed. That was the last time I would handle Hobnobs, unwillingly ever again. I was sent to school with a juice box instead. That was perfect. The other kids would drink juice, cola, anything with lots of sugar during the morning, between the first and second lesson. I was fitting in!

The impacts of this time only became apparent as I got older. I lost countless hours in class and in education because of feeling hypo. For around 4 years (before things stopped) I was having a pretty bad hypo, two or three days per week in the hour before lunch at school. At one stage, I collapsed in school, during a PE lesson of Badminton. I had a huge seizure, bit my tongue and had to spend a week at home to recover. Even that incident didn't make me eat my snacks! By now, my friends were old enough and "safe" enough to know that I have diabetes. I still refused to tell them. The badminton incident was chalked down to me falling over and hitting my head, again, not a total lie! I certainly hit my head and fell over.

I decided to blog about this little period in my life because of Eating Disorders Awareness Week. I like to discuss my blog ideas with friends, in advance and we agreed that this might be more accurately described as Disordered Eating or even Disordered Diabetes! Let's go with the former, the latter might light some fires.

The stress, of varying intensities, at that time was frequent. Handling a new chronic illness diagnosis as a child is bad enough. How about a side-order of social anxiety and feeling terrible from hypoglycemia? 

I feel lucky. That period in my life could've easily escalated into something much worse. I did carry some of this behaviour into my teens and early adulthood but to a far less dangerous extent.

As an adult, I wonder how this might have been avoided. My conclusion is psychological support. Each person, regardless of age, should be offered support following news of a life changing diagnosis. If I could've normalised and processed the news of diabetes, I'm certain that this behaviour would not have happened. That may have resulted in an easier childhood and a different path as an adult. 

Thank you so much for reading this blog. I do appreciate your visit and your support. As you might know, I LOVE COFFEE! So I've teamed up with a thing called Buy Me A Coffee. If you enjoy my content and appreciate the time it takes to create such things then you can buy me a coffee! If you leave your Twitter @ name when you buy me a coffee, I will personally thank you. If you'd rather be anonymous then that's totally cool. Thanks for the caffeine!

BUY DIABETIC DAD A COFFEE HERE

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Hobnobs in Hiding pt.1

 

Allow me to reassure you straight away. This blog will not be entirely related to Hobnob biscuits. Perhaps that's more a disappointment rather than reassurance to some of you! Don't run away if you're here for Hobnobs tales. They do get a mention, I promise.

It's #EatingDisordersAwarenessWeek according to Twitter. I think that I've known of some eating disorders for a good part of my life. Anorexia Nervosa was the term frequently heard when I was younger. It seemed entirely related to young women and girls and I rarely gave it a passing thought. Some time later and after embracing my Type 1 Diabetes, taking to social media to learn and share, the term Diabulimia began to get mentioned a lot. The BBC labelled it "The World's Most Dangerous Eating Disorder" in this article. I saw the video, relating to that piece, on BBC 3 after being sent the link by my lovely friend, Megan. Powerful stuff. I felt very sympathetic towards the women in the story but fortunately, I thought, it wasn't a problem for me.

Now, you're expecting a grand "confession" about how I've been battling an eating disorder. That's not happening. I've taken some time to read the tweets tagged to the above hashtag and it seems apparent that eating disorders are incredibly complex, brutal and, in many cases, very individualised in that the nuances appear to differ from person to person. That opened my eyes to the subject. It opened my eyes to the fact that although it is mostly women who are contributing and sharing, it's not only women. Some men also popped their heads above the parapet. 

We men are not great at talking about health. I try but there are many things that I haven't spoken about openly and may never do so. I have my reasons but mostly it's because I find diabetes to be a far more interesting conversation. A condition which is forever changing in many respects and something I'm often learning something new about. Eating Disorders Awareness Week taught me something new and it relates to my diabetes. Boy! does it relate to my diabetes! Let's start at the beginning...

...Following my diagnosis of T1D in late 1984, there were Christmas and New Years Day school holidays. That was probably a good thing for me. That little break from school gave me and my parents the chance to get a grip of my diabetes before sending me back to the classroom. A week into January and it's time to fire up the pencil case and get back to it. Me? I was back into school 20 minutes before anybody else with both parents. Parents armed with a bottle of Ribena (remember when that was great for hypos?) a bag of blood glucose checking equipment, a letter explaining what Type 1 Diabetes was and probably a truckload of anxiety about leaving their recently diagnosed 8 year old child at school, to manage his diabetes on his own.

We had a chat, my parents left and the other children streamed into the classroom. I don't remember any of my friends questioning why I wasn't at school before Christmas. They were unaware of me lying in a hospital bed, fighting and screaming at nurses who were trying to inject me with insulin while they, my friends, were singing carols at the school assembly. 

In 1985, insulin therapy was very much different than it is today. No pumps, no basal/bolus, no CGM and Loops were honey nut and you ate them for breakfast. You got two types of insulin which you mixed together after drawing it up into a syringe. That was injected twice per day, in my case, and I ate carbs to cover the insulin. If I exercised, I ate more carbs. That was it. Needless to say, it was a hypo-fest at many stages. Because of the need to eat carbs throughout the day there was a strict eating schedule to stick to. It looked something like this:

- Wake up, finger prick and morning injection

- 7.30am, breakfast

- 10am, mid-morning snack

- Noon, lunch

- 2pm, mid-afternoon snack

-5pm, finger prick and evening injection

- Soon after 5pm, dinner

9pm, supper

Yes, that's right. I was eating a lot! Sometimes it worked out, sometimes I was waking up at 3am with a BG of 3.2mmol. I know, nothing much has changed in that respect. 

There are two times in that schedule which are important. 10am and 2pm. Those are not normal eating times for school children and on Day 1, back in class, didn't I know it. The chattering and excited children around me were the first ones to notice. 

"Paul, what are you doing?"

"You're not allowed to eat in class!"

"Can I have some?"

and then "Mrs Parsons! Paul is eating!" exclaimed the loudest voice in the classroom. Every eye was on me. 30+ children staring at me and my two tangerines (It was after Christmas, it was a thing to eat tangerines at that time), Mrs Parsons settled everybody down. I do distinctly remember how hard it is to eat tangerines when you're trying to not cry.

Yes, yes, Diabetic Dad. All very bottom lip wobbly, but how does that relate to eating disorders?

For the next few days, I hated school. I hated 10am and 2pm because of the comments from other children. They weren't being mean or bullying me, they were asking questions, making comments and each time it was chipping away at my confidence and making me feel different. Eventually, probably after a week, I stopped eating my mid-morning and mid-afternoon snack. It was noticed by some children. They'd already become used to me eating at those times. When questioned, I said that "I don't need to do that any more. It's gone away".

By now, the tangerines had run out and I was sent to school with two little foil-wrapped parcels of biscuits. Hobnobs! They stayed in my coat pocket all day and I put them in one of the school bins before leaving at 3pm. Until, eventually, the school removed the bin that I was dumping my food into! I was devastated. I took the Hobnobs home and sneakily put them into the bin at home. It was noticed and I got a full on rollocking about not eating my snacks and how I could hypo and finish up in hospital. 

So, the bin at school was gone, the bin at home was too heavily policed. What to do!? I can't bloody eat them! That would be ridiculous. I'd convinced my friends that I don't need to do that now. I was stuck but determined to look "normal" and so my next bright idea was to hide them in my school desk. School desks in 1985 looked like this:

If you're wondering how many Hobnobs you can hide in a desk like that, the answer is several hundred. This was a brilliant plan. It went on for months! I even left a desk, full of biscuits, for an entire half term break. 

Things only began to go wrong when the lid on my desk wasn't closing properly. A half inch gap appeared, through which many shiny tin foil packets of Hobnobs could be seen. I had to get rid of these and fast. 

It was a PE day. I knew this would be my chance to remove my hidden biscuity treasure because it was Easter (yes, things had been going on for THAT long) and there were large bins in the classroom, full of cuts of paper as everybody was making Easter decorations. I "forgot" my PE kit and was told to stay inside and do some artwork - this was common practice at my school. For the next hour, I spent my time running back and forth to the large bins to dump armfuls of biscuits. Once my desk was empty, I took the cut up papers and placed them over what was probably about 10kgs of Hobnobs. I got away with it. At least, if anybody did notice they didn't say anything.

Of course, I needed a new place for my discarded snacks from then on. The stress of hiding them in my desk was just too much for my little 8 year old brain. I did find another bin, I began to dump them into it at break times but that was also noticed. Fortunately, it was noticed by my then best friend. He asked why I was throwing them away and accepted the answer that I just don't like them. He also began to accept them from me to eat. I remember David, well. He was new to the school and was just trying to fit in. We became good friends, he ate my Hobnobs for the next 3 years! 

Thank you so much for reading this blog. I do appreciate your visit and your support. As you might know, I LOVE COFFEE! So I've teamed up with a thing called Buy Me A Coffee. If you enjoy my content and appreciate the time it takes to create such things then you can buy me a coffee! If you leave your Twitter @ name when you buy me a coffee, I will personally thank you. If you'd rather be anonymous then that's totally cool. Thanks for the caffeine!

BUY DIABETIC DAD A COFFEE HERE

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Part 2 is Available Here

Freestyle Libre 2 - In Review

 

It feels like it's been a long time coming for UK based people living with Type 1 Diabetes. The Freestyle Libre 2, the sequel to the box office smash original, is now here and is available to eligible diabetics on the NHS.

I don't really do reviews. If you've seen my vlog then you'll probably be aware that I focus my attention on talking to other people living with diabetes, sprinkled with the odd rant about whatever issue is burning in my belly at the time. So, I'm going to keep this "plain English" and try to focus on areas which I think are important to me. If you're especially interested in an area that I don't touch upon then do leave a comment below or get in touch via the usual channels.

What's in the box?

Does it look familiar? If you've used the original Libre then it probably will! It's exactly the same thing. All your old favourites are here; Insertor, applicator, 2 handy alcohol wipes and an instruction manual which you've never read. There isn't anything noticeably new. Even the outer packaging looks the same apart from a number 2.

Not that the packaging really matters, aside from the waste (I'll get on to that soon). You're not really here for that. You're here because it's new and you've heard it works "like a proper CGM". It's true, it does. 

Users of Libre 1 can turn their sensors into a CGM via a nifty piece of kit called a Bubble or a Miao Miao. Essentially, both are Bluetooth devices that can sit on the top of your Libre sensor, taking in all that lovely data. That can then be sent directly to your phone and an app such as Diabox. No need for scans! Cool! Well, yes apart from the need to purchase a third party piece of hardware and turn a reasonably flat piece of tech, in the Libre sensor, into quite a bulky lump on your arm (or wherever you choose to wear yours). 

"Hold my pint!" exclaimed the boffins at Abbott and they set to work to remove the need for a third party device, uglying up their little discs of loveliness. The result is Libre 2 and it works just like Libre 1 did with Bubble or Miao Miao.

Accuracy!? Tell me about the accuracy!

No blinding with science, here. If you want to hear about MARD and the likes then those figures are freely available on other good web sites, and some bad ones. For me, so far, I think it's as good if not better than Libre 1. I've tested it against my most trusted blood glucose monitor at different times of the day, when high and when low and it's pretty close, sometimes exact. Day 1 was a little "out" on the numbers but I was expecting that after reading about similar stories on social media. It did settle down after around 6 hours.

Diabox? Huh?

You're going to need it to take the data automatically, like a CGM. The app can be difficult to find but do ask for help on Twitter via #GBDoc if you're struggling or visit this tweet by my friend Louise. When it's working it'll look a little something like the image above. Your numbers might be different (better). The app allows you to customise alerts and turn off the ones that you don't want, or find the most irritating.

There may be other ways of turning Libre 2 into a CGM. You may want to explain those to me! Feel free by using the comments box below. I've heard of some sort of patches for the LibreLink app but I couldn't locate the info and I'm impatient to use new tech.

What about LibreLink?

You're going to need to keep that. If you're NHS funded then you're very likely to be sending your data back to your clinic via this app. So! Remember to scan! Or your clinicians will think you've given up or have departed this world. The sensors keep 8 hours of data so, how often you scan is up to you. I try to have a flash every hour or so. It also serves as reassurance that your Diabox numbers are tallying up with the scanned sensor numbers.

The leftovers?

I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Having used a different CGM recently, by a company who are taking packaging and hardware waste very seriously, it's a real blow to be faced with an "updated" version of this product and the waste is still the same as the original.

There it all is, including a previously worn sensor - for the sharps bin.

I know Libre 3 is on the way and I have high hopes for improvements in every dept, especially in left over waste. Don't let the planet down, Abbott! 

Should I get one?

If you're NHS funding eligible, yes! I know some of you are happily finger pricking, some don't like the idea of wearable tech on their bodies, 24/7, some might feel overwhelmed by the process of getting one and the new avalanche of data. I get all that. Here's what I've discovered:

- Less finger pricking means less burden. Don't buy into the idea that you'll never finger prick again. You will need to when you're having a hypo or need to check that your sensor is working accurately.

- You don't notice it. Some sensors sting for a while but pretty soon you'll wonder if it's still on.

- You're in control. Look at your data as often as you feel comfortable. If you're used to finger pricking 8 times per day then you are allowed to check your sensor 8 timer per day.

That's all I have to say. I hope you've found that quick review useful. Again, if you would like to know specifics then please get in touch.

Covid-19 Vaccination - Side Effects, My Experience

My GP is fantastic. He is very engaged with his patients and uses Facebook to provide updates on Covid-19 vaccines. In the last few weeks, my area was ahead of the national average and it became apparent (via my GP's updates) that no further vaccine was expected before Feb 22nd. That has subsequently been updated to Feb 26th. So, my hopes of getting the jab were put aside for a while. I didn't mind, I knew my turn would come.

Fast-forward to last Friday (Feb 19th). News reached me that a clinic within my postcode was accepting patients who are eligible for the jab. As a Type 1 Diabetic, I am a part of Cohort 6 in England. That means I was eligible. I booked the appointment online for the following day! A mix of nerves and excitement hit me. I think more excitement than nerves. I'm used to having vaccines. I've had my flu jab, each year, for a while now. The nerves arose from being in a public place with people. Actual people. Attending an appointment for something which will ultimately allow me to do that very thing without fear.

You've probably read about the experiences of others who have had their vaccines. It seems that organisation is as good as it can be for the majority. No surprises, here. Same. I was told to wait for 5 minutes before my appointment time before joining the queue. It took a little longer than 5 minutes before it was my turn. A mix of people were in the line. My cohorts! and some clearly from cohorts relating to age. Shut it! They're not my cohorts! I'm in the young diabetic group.

The jab was no more painful than a bolus injection. I was handed some paperwork (the one in the pic) and a little card, detailing the type of vaccine I've had and the date. Then freedom! Well, not quite. Back to lockdown.

Then, nothing happened. I don't really know what I was expecting. I was expecting something! Tick-tock! Where is the headache? The feeling rough? Perhaps I've got away with it. 

No. 2am, Sunday morning. Something exploded. I was woken by violent shaking in my chest. That spread quickly throughout my body, followed by the coldest I have ever felt. It was horrible. After a few hours of questioning my decision to have the jab and wondering if this is a normal side effect and spooning a hot water bottle to within an inch of it's rubbery life, I fell asleep. The rest of the night was spent waking and sleeping, tossing and turning, freezing and sweating.

When I tried to get out of bed on Sunday morning, it was then that I noticed everything hurts. Every bone in my body was aching. I spent the day taking paracetamol and ibuprofen and sleeping. The side effects started to subside as the evening approached. Eventually, I went to bed at around midnight. Only at that stage did I feel confident that things were improving.

Now, here we are. Approaching 48 hours after the jab. I'm almost my usual self. A little weak, perhaps but nothing to write a blog about... Oh, right. 

I do not regret having the vaccine, AstraZeneca - if you're interested. Over 120,000 people have died within 28 days of having a positive Covid test, at present in the UK. I know that b*stard virus has touched people I know. I know it's taken their family members and friends. I know people have suffered tremendously on many levels. If my day or two of feeling rough is my experience of Covid-19 then I'll take that gladly. 

Others have had no side effects at all. We're all different. Please don't fear getting your jab. Do the right thing.

 

Hearing Voices

 

It's been around 4 years since I became "active" in the online diabetes community. In 2017 I started watching and engaging with YouTubers before finding my way to some online forums. Eventually, I found Twitter and #GBDoc and that has remained my online diabetes go-to ever since. I've dipped my toe into Facebook but didn't really find the groups there to be friendly and moderated groups don't hold much appeal to me. I have an Instagram account, too. I enjoy some of the engagement on IG but I haven't really found the platform lends itself to peer support, personally.

Social media (Twitter especially) has been a huge, positive influence on my diabetes. Of course, as with any social aspect of life, there are instances when people you engage with are not friendly, are aggressive or simply don't like what you have to say. The more people you "meet" the more likely it is that you'll experience some form of negativity. And so it is on Twitter. I'm fine with that. Only a few days ago, I checked the list of blocked accounts on my account. There were over 40 but the vast majority were simply spam bots. A few people replied to my tweet with their blocked numbers and some ran into several hundred. I felt things have gone pretty well for me in that regard!

My train of thought led me think of the people I have engaged with. The names from the early days who are seemingly no longer around, the ones who have been there since day one and the new ones, hopefully good friends of the future. 

My mind also wandered to the popular accounts, the frequently heard voices. That brought about thoughts of the opportunities and assumed authority granted to some of those voices. We've been here before, haven't we? I've certainly engaged in such discussion on Twitter. I may have even started some of that discussion!

While the frequent speakers and brand ambassadors might dislike what I have to say next, please realise this; I've spoken about diabetes, I've represented two brands and I've accepted paid advertisements on my tweets. I've also turned down conference involvement and a third brand representation. Why? Because I'm a firm believer in a community voice being the voices of many and not a frequently selected few. Who and what I choose to represent is very much driven by that. Also, don't forget that I'm a straight, middle aged, white man.

We're stuck with the online variety of conferences and webinars, right now. It may continue in this way for a good chunk of 2021 or beyond, until we get the virus under control. I've been excited to see new conferences and webinars pop up in the last 12 months and remain excited at the prospect of more in the coming year. However, almost without exception, I've been disappointed at the names listed as speakers and, to some extent, the subject matter. I'm not disappointed at the quality of speaker or what they personally might have to say. I'm disappointed that it's the same names time and again.

The argument might be that people simply don't volunteer to speak at conferences. That is true but I believe there are two good reasons for that and easy solutions:

- Firstly, speaking opportunities are never widely advertised. I cannot remember seeing a single tweet, post or mailing list email which asks for volunteers to speak. So, advertise!

- Secondly, the majority of people who might be interested in speaking will not volunteer themselves openly. I know this from 2 years of finding hosts for the #GBDoc Tweetchat. YET! when asked directly, nearly everybody showed an interest in hosting. It might be a British thing. In general, I think people don't want to come across as "The Big I Am". So I often ask directly and the responses are far more favourable.

Why is this important? I think we need to hear the voices of many to get a broader range of views and experiences. I think we need to allow attendees to gain inspiration from all types of people from all backgrounds, not just who the organisers think are "inspirational". I think skin colours need to be varied. I think accents need to be varied. I think disability needs to be represented and I'm not just referring to diabetes! I want to hear the stories and experiences of people I've never heard speak before. I want to hear from professionals that I've never heard speak before. Those people and no doubt others, such as members of the LGBTQ+ community need to be heard. They are a broad representation of the diabetes community (online and off) 

Thank you so much for reading this blog. I do appreciate your visit and your support. As you might know, I LOVE COFFEE! So I've teamed up with a thing called Buy Me A Coffee. If you enjoy my content and appreciate the time it takes to create such things then you can buy me a coffee! If you leave your Twitter @ name when you buy me a coffee, I will personally thank you. If you'd rather be anonymous then that's totally cool. Thanks for the caffeine!

BUY DIABETIC DAD A COFFEE HERE

KISS

 

Happy St Valentine's Day!

Today probably means very little to some of you. If you're single and looking for love or heartbroken or lonely then today might be pretty painful for you. I'm sorry if you fall into those categories. Rest assured, life rarely stays the same if you seek out ways to change it. If you do fall into the painful categories then I have great news! This blog isn't about St Valentine's Day! Woop!

The title of the blog is wrong. It should really read "K.I.S.S"

Keep It Simple Stupid

And that's what I want to touch on, today. Keeping things simple. Sorry about the photo, by the way.

I've had two experiences with the NHS in the past week. Let's look at the good experience, the simple one, first:

- I noticed that Freestyle Libre 2 was now available to NHS patients. I've been a Libre 1 user since 2017, self funded for a while and NHS funded latterly. My initial thoughts on Libre were mixed. I vlogged about it! You can watch one of those videos here : Freestyle Libre Inaccuracy - A Diabetic's Rant More recently, I've been a happier bunny. Accuracy has improved, I've found inserting the sensor into a thigh to be far better in terms of sleep and general comfort, no fails and nothing has fallen off. Cool, so Libre 2 seems like a natural progression. Here is what I went through to get it on my prescription:

Friday, 1.30pm - I emailed my practice nurse and politely asked if my Libre prescription could be changed to the new version.

Friday, 4.00pm - The nurse replied to tell me that has now been done.

That's it.

I felt like rushing to my doorstep and applauding.

No red tape, no need to sign anything, provide BG data, travel to the clinic, complain on Twitter, nada, nothing. Super duper!

And the not-so-simple experience?

- My lovely pharmacist called. He was processing my repeat prescription and, after scanning the 'script "barcode" his computer said 'No!'

In England, people with Type 1 Diabetes are medically exempt from paying for prescriptions. We fill out a form, the doctor signs it off and we get our medical exemption letter, card, number, whatever it is. That is then given to our chosen pharmacy and we're good to go! free meds!

Only the exemption award trophy expires after 5 years. Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind I remember renewing this before. And here we are again. 

In a pandemic.

Stay home, shave wives, protect the DFS sale... or something.

It's also winter. And despite climate change, it's really cold in England, right now. Snow and ice on the pavements. Did I mention that I have a visual impairment?

Those things aside; even if life was totally normal and it was a beautiful day for a 4 mile stroll, what an utter ache in the plums! A 4 mile stroll encompasses the journey to the GP surgery and home. Assuming I fill out the form at home and not in the surgery (stay home) then it's another 4 miles. Then it'll be time to show my exemption to my pharmacist.

It's totally pointless to renew a medical exemption for a life long condition. It causes additional stress and burden. In my case, it's pretty dangerous.

I know this is probably on the agenda of things to change. I'm happy to hear that, but I wonder just how complex is it? In the scheme of things, it's not a massive issue but it is an issue and one that every person with T1D will face every 5 years. It needs to stop. This renewal system needs to be dragged into 2021. There is no cure for what I have.

C'mon NHSE and prescription processors, let's sort this one out. It's really simple and once it's done you'll look much less stupid.

 (Thank you to Julie Tickle for sending the renewal form to me in the post, saving me from one perilous journey.)

Fear

 The difficulties of T1D have been chewed over and over for years. New difficulties appear, from time to time, as people become comfortable or brave enough to start talking about them openly. I think we've seen that, recently with eating disorders and the mental health impacts on individuals living with Type 1 Diabetes. 

That's good, right? If we talk and share experiences then others don't feel alone, HCPs take notice, treatments and referrals can happen, we can get better or maintain health. I've always been a sharer in regards to my diabetes and, if you know me well enough you know that I encourage others to talk as openly as they care to.

It's not easy to share. At some point you'll probably be on the receiving end of negativity. Eventually, somebody will likely tell you that you are "attention seeking" or "showing off". That may be true. Social media is a place for seeking attention for engagement and I'm certainly guilty of showing off... I'm a sharer, remember? but for the right reasons. You may also be on the receiving end of self doubt. Did you share too much? Eek! Perhaps it's time for a social media break or to even abandon your accounts entirely and become a lurker, a reader, no longer sharing because it's safer that way. That happens. It's a shame when it does but it's also understandable. The Internet can be a vicious place, a scary place. #DOC is not an exception.

Social media fear is certainly a thing. I know I've written many tweets and decided against sending them. Sometimes I light fires on Twitter but I really do prefer the peace. Honestly, I do!

Fear plays a huge role in living with diabetes. I've read countless tweets from people who are frightened of what's happening to them and what might happen to them. The eye clinic, the lasers, the blood tests, are my kidneys okay? why have I got pins and needles in my foot? That chest pain.... Perhaps some of those are familiar to you. And your reaction? Fear.

Fear of complications and fear of dying seems natural. After 36 years T1D and a good taste of eye complications, I still "feel the fear". I don't think about things each day but, from time to time I get that moment where everything stops and my brain is entirely focused on what I have. Then it's gone. That briefest moment containing all the fear, all the self pity, all the anger and sadness. It might only be a split second! It feels like I've swallowed an anvil. Then it's gone.

What's the solution? 

I suspect the answer is in acceptance and to expedite acceptance probably means therapy, if not for all then for many. 

Right now, I don't think therapy would serve much purpose for me. I do, however think the newly diagnosed should be seeing a therapist as routinely as a dietician, perhaps even more frequently. And for as long as it takes. 

I reached the stage of acceptance a long time ago. Fear still crippled me when eye complications appeared on the horizon. My head went into the sand and instead of facing up to some uncomfortable weeks and months and coming out relatively unscathed, I hid away and my reward was a lifetime of visual impairment after two years of surgeries and pain. 

Would the news of eye complications and an offer of therapy have helped me? Possibly. I may have faced the fear of lasers and injections instead of pretending it wasn't happening. 

Could it help others? Possibly.

Is it time for newly diagnosed diabetics and people diagnosed with complications from diabetes to be offered immediate, on site, therapy as a matter of urgency and total normality?

You tell me! The comments box is below.