5 Years Engaged

It's not what you're thinking! How do you choose an image to represent 5 years of engaging with other people over Diabetes? A tired looking pancreas? Not that I'm tired of the engagement! but I imagine that the penis shaped organ is somewhat weary. The penis shaped organ? Seriously, have you seen a pancreas? Take a look...

What an absolute d...

...moving on. Yes, 5 years since I decided to start talking about my T1D. When you hit 40, you do strange things. Having owned the fast cars, followed a morally questionable lifestyle and bought the leather trousers, I figured I'd give my health some attention. 

My A1c at the tail end of 2016 was 8.9%. A phone call from my GP surgery suggested that was a bit high. "Oh, it's always been a bit high, I'm alright" I said, hurriedly ending the call. Words from my eye surgeon rang loudly in "my mind's ear". It wasn't long since I had been discharged from a few years of surgeries and many visits to the eye clinic. Upon discharging me, he quietly noted; "How you look after yourself in the next 5 to 10 years will impact on how much I'll see you in the future". I guessed that he wasn't suggesting that I really let go, that he's going to miss cleaning out my gunky vitreous fluids and stitching my retina back together and so I should carry on regardless. I took that as a "get your act together".

The turning 40 moment seems to catch many. That was noted to me in a recent video consultation and I think it's a good point in life to take stock, especially if you have a family and young children. So, I did. And to take stock where do we all turn? The Internet! inject those conspiracy theories into my sub-cutaneous areas! Mmmm, yes. Also, there are many places online which are a great help when it comes to getting support and finding the right direction.

I started on YouTube. I have a great face for the radio so, it took a few takes to finally save and publish a video. I'm not great at videos but I enjoy making them and they're a good way of venting ones spleen. I still make them today, less frequently but they are generally to talk to other people with Diabetes rather than my own experiences. Engagement happened, despite the small audience and I'm still in touch with several people from the early YouTube days, today. That engagement gave me the confidence to reach out further and I found the forums. I gave them a lot of time and attention for a few months and it was a hit and miss affair. Some users were very friendly and accepting, others very militant about how to live correctly with Type 1. Somebody on the forum, in March 2017, mentioned Twitter. 

 I've been on Twitter since 2008 and actively since 2009 but not in a Diabetes capacity. It was always fun but it never occurred to me that a community based around Diabetes might exist. It did and it still does although, in 2017 GBDoc was in turmoil, following some wrong-doings and allegations made about someone who was seen as a community leader. It was interesting to observe while tentatively making connections and friendships. Because of the early drama, I didn't want to associate myself with the GBDoc community right away. That changed within a few weeks and I became very active, encouraged by the support and helpful information of my peers and the ousting of the villain. At the time, that was great, it was all I needed, my A1c was improving, I felt better, I started to use technology and most people seemed very open and friendly.

At the beginning of 2019 I was offered the chance to join the GBDoc Tweetchat team. I've been involved in Internet marketing since the mid 1990s and it seemed clear how to bring that little corner of Twitter forward. I'm proud of the early work that I put into the Tweetchats alongside many other GBDoc members. The old "chats" were poorly populated and not especially engaging. By making subtle changes, gently promoting and engaging, we managed to build a very popular weekly event. It's still going, every Weds at 9pm! and Laura is the expert custodian of that account. 

From 2020, my account on Twitter started to get noticed by many different people and organisations. I've been offered many opportunities to talk about Diabetes, to represent Diabetes companies and to meet up with hundreds of amazing people who live with the condition. The majority of those occasions have been informative and fun and friendship building. 

Now, it's 2022 and I'm as hungry for engagement as ever. I even started this blog! which recently nudged by 300,000 views - Only half of which are my mum.

5 years ago, I was finger pricking and injecting, sitting on an HbA1c of 8.9% and hiding my Diabetes.

Today, I'm pumping because of the Diabetes community.

Today, I'm using a CGM because of the Diabetes community.

Today, my HbA1c is 6.6%

I have dozens of close friends who live with T1D.

I engage with people with Diabetes each day and it's not all moans and groans! Some people (mostly me) and very funny and brilliant to talk to.

Those are my gains from engaging with others about my Diabetes. My peers have undoubtedly changed and perhaps prolonged my life and for that I cannot find the words to express my thanks. I try to give back what I've been given; support, help, signposting, friendship and honest words about our condition. I strongly encourage you to do the same.

Oh! and being engaged to be married for 5 years is absolutely fine. Take as long as you need. 

 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!

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Living with (but avoiding) Covid & Type 1 Diabetes

Ugh! Another Covid blog? I hear you, I'm tired of it too. I think Covid lethargy is a very real thing and it probably has been for a while, now. I think it's pretty normal to become tired, even burned out, by illness and disease. I'm a Type 1 Diabetic, remember? I've been there and perhaps you're reading this and nodding because you have too. 

I still fear Covid. Many don't! Maybe it's already visited the fearless and left again without any affect. Maybe there is a "head in the sand" approach going on by some - I understand that, I took a similar approach to the news of my eye complications, a decade ago. This can't be happening, if I ignore it then it'll go away. It didn't, of course. Or! perhaps the conspiracy theorists are sticking to their guns. How history will view their words and actions will be interesting for those still around in the decades to come.

I don't know how history will view me. My blog and social media will likely be around forever. My feelings, fears, joys and sadness there for everyone to read. That might be sobering for some or, if you're like me, you publish these things without fear because you've gained so much from sharing and you'll continue to do so regardless of the future or, indeed, the knickers which may become knotted as a result.

So, Covid fear is where I currently am. Sprinkle some Covid burnout on that, too. The reason? The virus has infected each person in my house since the turn of 2022. One after the other until the last person with a negative test remains - Me! That, as I've already noted on Twitter, is a remarkable thing. I live with 3 other members of my family and have shared a lot of personal space with each one. The LFTs have all been negative. I stopped believing them and took a PCR - also negative.  Yet, still the fear. It feels like one of those scary movies; the bad guy, the monster, the alien wandering around and picking off victims one by one until only one person remains, usually the hero. 

I'm not a hero but I'll tell you what's happened and if it helps you then great. Firstly, I've isolated myself within my own bedroom and bathroom. I know that many can't do that because we don't all live in multiple-room and bathroom homes. I've opened windows and doors to the outside as often as possible. It's January, it's cold, so layers have been worn. I'm hand washing after each visit to a room where positive members of the household have been - mostly the kitchen and using anti-bac as often as possible. I'm preparing meals which are left outside of the rooms of the positive. I'm leaving the house for at least an hour each day and walking around an isolated area near my home - no other people access this area (it's great!) and I'm only going to that isolated area in case I become positive in between tests, I have no desire to infect anybody. That hour or so guarantees me some fresh air and no viral load for a while and it's a well needed mental break. I know that's not possible for everybody but if you can safely get out for a little while then it might serve well your mental health.

That's it. Despite 10 days now passing since positive case #1, I still fear the symptoms and the little line on an LFT. I still think that it's just a matter of time until the bad guy takes a hold of my throat. 

And Diabetes? I'm paying attention. Any unusual spikes or prolonged lows result in the usual annoyance but now they're accompanied with the thoughts of "Is this Covid?" Not so far! but those thoughts and fears will undoubtedly remain for another week or so, until the isolation periods end or negative tests are returned. 

A few days ago, I felt (for want of a better term) frazzled. Many positive results and worries will eventually take their toll. It passed and acceptance resumed because there is very little that I can do to protect myself beyond the measures that I've already taken. I think that's the case for us all. I am in no way unique in this regard, especially living in England. I encourage you all to keep doing the right things. Please don't take unnecessary risks over your own health or the health of others. 

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!

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Gotta Wear Shades

I don't HAVE to wear shades but doesn't everybody look cooler while wearing sunglasses? That's me, in the photo, outside the Bellagio in Las Vegas, almost 8 years ago. This blog isn't really about sunglasses, I promise.

Firstly, huge thanks to everybody who supported my December charity blogs. They raised £90 for Diabetes charities - all the money has already been sent, take a look at my Twitter timeline for a detailed breakdown. Perhaps I'll do something like that each year because it's good to give.

I'm doin alright, gettin good grades, the future is so bright, I gotta wear shades. Do you remember that song? It still gets thrown around from time to time when things are looking promising. In the world of Type 1 Diabetes, in the UK at least, things do seem to be looking up. On a personal level, things are pretty good as well.

I'm doin alright

The numbers suggest as much. My eA1c is floating around 6.6% and my Time In Range is in the low 80% area. Numbers are just data so, that aside, I'm happy to confirm that I actually feel pretty good, too. Better levels of sleep because of fewer Diabetes related interruptions is certainly a life changer. That and no feelings of being overwhelmed by injections have certainly put a shine back into life. Those things are down to me using an insulin pump, of course and you know that because you've already read of my gushings for the last 4 months. If you want to switch to pumping then I encourage you to start the conversation with your Diabetes team. At this point, I am still refused NHS funding for pump therapy and I've taken my foot off the throat of decision makers in that regard - I'll explain why at the end of this blog, keep reading.

Gettin good grades

TIR, eA1c, Hours slept... there are probably others, too but the numbers are looking good and if T1D is judged on such things then the grades are looking pretty nice.

Future is so bright 

Possibly. A bright future involves access to all available technology to all who can benefit from it. My data shows the benefits to me but that's not enough to satisfy the current NICE criteria for pump funding. I've written about why the criteria isn't fit for purpose and is causing individuals to self harm to achieve an A1c which would make them eligible for pump therapy. That's not a route which I'm going to explore but I will keep talking about it because it's obviously very wrong and potentially very damaging to the health of people living with T1D. 

A bright future involves the scrapping of the current NICE criteria for pump funding. Good try, folks but delete that and start again. You can do better. Aaaaaaand it seems that might be happening. I await the news of NICE criteria changes, later this year. March, perhaps. Of course, if it still pushes individuals to self harm then my noise will increase and I will submit to the requests to talk about it through more public sources than my little corner of the Internet. The coming months will be very interesting indeed and I do hope the future is incredibly bright for everyone living with T1D and not just for some, for some things.

I gotta wear shades

Because, as established already, shades are cool. It's important to remain cool and calm in most situations. If you're fighting off a hypo or struggling to reduce a hyper then I've always found things seem to move more smoothly if I just take a breath and stay calm. Perhaps stress and anxiety can affect BG? Of course it does! as it can affect other areas of your life. So, rather than press harder for pump funding I am going to do nothing apart from wait. I'm going to put my faith in the decision makers to level the playing field, faith in HCPs to facilitate access to technology and look for reasons to make it happen rather than reasons to refuse and faith that the current use of a donated pump will hold out long enough for me to not be worried about the day it dies - because I'll be granted NHS pump funding and a warranty for the tech I'm using. The shades are on despite it being January, freezing cold and dark at 4pm. The shades are on because I'm cool and calm and patiently waiting for the right things to happen.

Happy New Year.

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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Giving

 

We're well into the season of giving, just a few days until Christmas in fact. There are boxes and parcels strewn around my house. Most of those contain gifts, yet to be wrapped but others contain insulin pump consumables and after a tidy up and an inventory check I have become rather overwhelmed.

Before we get into the guts of today's blog, please allow me to draw your attention to the Buy Me a Coffee links at the bottom of this piece. Every coffee bought for me during December will be donated to Diabetes charities. I have plenty of caffeine to bother my hypertension, don't worry but if you appreciate this blog then do what you can. As always, please only donate what is affordable to you.

Why overwhelmed? Because during the inventory check it quickly became apparent just how much has been donated to me and Pumpy McPumpface. I've been pumping for 4 months so, you can probably imagine that I've got through a lot of consumables in that time. However, I have so much right now that I don't really need to worry about consumables again for a long time. I originally thought that I'd probably be alright until February or March. Wrong, take a look...

...and my Christmassy kitchen table is pretty big but it's not big enough to get everything into one photo. Don't forget the previous 4 months of consumables which I've already used up. We Diabetics get through a lot of stuff! 

Stacking that lot up took quite a while and when taking the photo I realised how incredibly lucky I am. What have I done to deserve such support and kindness, exactly? and then I remembered the recently sent Birthday and Christmas gifts, some from people I've never met. A lot of people have been very generous to me and when I ask my close friends why that is, the answer is always the same or at least very similar. I ask it from time to time because I don't consider what I do to be a chore. The reply usually comes back along the lines of undervaluing myself and I have perhaps been guilty of that at various times in my life. I think that there is great power in openness and talking when it comes to health and Diabetes, in particular. There is great power in honesty and being agenda-free. While I remain a presence in our community, I will continue to do the same things. How else can I repay my peers? I hope that being there continues to be enough and I hope that all of you remain in my life for a long time to come.

So, this is my last blog before Christmas and it might be a very difficult time for some of you. Diabetes aside, it's been a rotten year and I know many will be missing loved ones who are no longer with you. I cannot imagine your pain but I will be thinking about you. In our community, we lost Gwynnie, earlier this year and I still really miss her. I remember her sending me a Libre sensor, once because I would be without tech for a few days. She took my address and it arrived a day later. She also took part in everything! and was absolutely hilarious in the process. I still check her Fantasy Football team scores and in all honesty, she's scoring more points than many of you lot from the afterlife. I bloody miss her. She was a great example of how to advocate for others despite infrequent recognition and limited opportunities. In her memory, I will continue to raise the voices of others. Be more Gwynnie.

You can do that, too. Talk about your Diabetes, ask questions, speak up without fear. In turn you will be supporting your peers. Pick any social media and begin. You'll mostly find me on Twitter (@DiabeticDadUK) if you'd like to engage with me.

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! AND until Jan 1st 2022 I'll be donating all your kind coffees to various Diabetes charities. 

BUY DIABETIC DAD A COFFEE HERE

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Thirty Seven

Is it the answer to life, the universe and everything? 37? probably not. I think that's a different number but 37 is a significant number for me, this weekend.

Saturday December 18th will mark my 37th anniversary of my Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis. A Diaversary, if you like. I realise that my Diabetes is older than the actual age of many of you, reading this. The date also marks my birthday. I'll be 45. I choose to celebrate the birthday rather than the anniversary. However, in this blog, I am here to offer you words of encouragement in regards to longevity and Diabetes.

When I were a lad it were nothing but fields as far as the eye could see! Also, T1D was not the greatest news. Long term outcomes were not wonderful and serious complications were almost a guarantee. Yet, I'm still here and do you know what? I've had an amazing time and I'm going to continue having an amazing time. Life is finite, one day it'll be my last and I'm fine with that but I'll be damned if Diabetes takes me out when we're not even at half time.

I take great joy in proving people wrong, you may have noticed. That, of course will upset some who are firm of mind and narrative. The things they suggested I couldn't do? wouldn't do?

- Drive

- Have romantic relationships

- Start a family

- Have a worthwhile career

- Be a functioning adult beyond my 30s

Those are some of the main ones and there are probably dozens if not hundreds more... including eating sweet things!

Half way to 90, I'm not going to stop doing things which make me happy and perhaps even a bit proud and why not? 

T1D is not the end of your life and ambitions. It may feel like that for a while and others may even suggest the same to you. They're wrong and your feelings are lying to you. This condition can and should be dragged through life with you as you choose to live it, hypoing, hypering, CGMs screaming, pumps vibrating, your favourite foods, your favourite past times, your friends, loves, jobs, everything! it belongs to you and not the other way around.

I'n sorry, I slipped into cheesy influencer mode for a moment. Now we're nudging into 2022 and the care and information available means that life with T1D has never been easier. That's easier and not easy. Our future, fellow Diabetics (at least in the United Kingdom) looks bright and less burdensome than in the years gone by. I'm looking forward to the next 45 years and beyond, greatly! 

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! AND until Jan 1st 2022 I'll be donating all your kind coffees to various Diabetes charities. 

BUY DIABETIC DAD A COFFEE HERE

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The Dawning Realisation - A Christmas Diagnosis

A slightly gloomy title and photo! I'm sorry. It's tricky to find a good image which represents something that will likely last for the rest of your life. Although it's not the most cheerful of subjects, I do think that those of us diagnosed with T1D do, sooner or later, come to the dawning realisation that this condition is going to last for the rest of our days. News of new "cures" and break thoroughs do frequently make headlines but right now a diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes means the same thing as it did in 1984; it's yours forever.

On the day of my diagnosis, I didn't know that. I assumed it was like Measles or a Flu - the illnesses mentioned many times in the run up to this day. This day was more important to me than the blurted out education and the books and leaflets. This day was my 8th birthday and I was ready to go home.

The NHS didn't think I was quite ready to leave their hospitality, just yet. They were right, of course. I knew nothing of Type 1 Diabetes, some might say that I still don't, and what followed was a very slow and boring lived experience education featuring:

- How to inject an orange

- Why I'm not allowed to drink Ribena

- Or Lucozade

- What a hypo feels like by inducing a hypo for me

and my personal favourite

- A leaflet featuring an info-graphic which detailed how to refuse a chocolate from somebody "because I'm a Diabetic".

Oh, how the Language Matters mob would've loved the last one. 

This education included some important stuff such as insulin dosage, how to check my BG and urine and carb counts of various foods - which were published in a rather chunky book. The foods were listed in a traffic light system. Green for good, amber for caution, red for no! I've always been a big fan of red.

My birthday came and went and some of the nice nurses were memorably lovely to me. The "poor love, no cake yet" got old very quickly, though. I just wanted to go home because Birthday then Christmas and Star Wars presents! 

After 5 days I was granted release, hurray! The staff said their goodbyes and I couldn't wait to leave the building. No more hospital! I'm better, I'm over that Diabeeting thing.

Dinner time on Dec 23rd 1984.

"Paul! Paul?!"

I was upstairs. Birthday toys.

"Paul! You need your BM and injection"

Wait... what? But I'm out of the hospital, I'm fine. I hesitantly made my way down the stairs. Mum was waiting in the living room while dad was in the kitchen, drawing insulin from vials and making the cloudy looking injection for me, I went in. BM done and injection administered, "All done" Dad chirped. I left the kitchen and approached my mum, sitting in the living room.

"Mum, when can I stop having injections?"

"Never" she said softly, after a pause.

"Oh"

I left the room and went back upstairs.

"Dinner in 15 minutes"

I didn't answer, I couldn't answer. I didn't want her to hear me crying through my response. Instead, I sat on my bedroom floor and sobbed, surrounded by my birthday toys. How could this be forever? How can I have two injections every day for the rest of my life? What have I done wrong?

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! AND until Jan 1st 2022 I'll be donating all your kind coffees to various Diabetes charities. 

BUY DIABETIC DAD A COFFEE HERE

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Can I Go Home Yet? A Christmas Diagnosis

 

It's December already! The festive month for many, a birthday month for me. It also happens to be the month which brought the diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes to my life and I'm going to share that story with you in this blog, today.

Once you've finished reading (that may have already happened) I'd like to draw your attention to the Buy Me A Coffee link at the bottom of the page. Many of you have kindly supported my blog by using that link and for that I'm very thankful. From today until Jan 1 2022, anybody who buys me a coffee via that link will be contributing to a donation to three, maybe four if enough coffees are bought, Diabetes charities. Funds will be split evenly across each charity and I will round up any odd pennies and pounds from my own pocket. I will also add a PayPal link at the bottom of the page to give you the option of different funding methods. If you prefer to use another method then please let me know. Oh and one last thing; Please only donate if it's affordable for you. 

Right! That's the Diabeticathon Relief message out of the way.  It's story time. Are you sitting comfortably?

"Mum?... Mummy, what's happening?!"

Everything was spinning and rushing around passed my head. That was because I had been scooped up from the floor by my mother and she was running to the house telephone, with me in her arms, to get help. I was barely conscious.

"I found him on the floor, what should I do?"

Mum didn't acknowledge me, her focus was on getting advice from my dad and help for me. I started to cry.

"Don't worry" she tried to reassure me, "Dad's on his way home, you might need to see the doctor"

A couple of days before the collapse, I was feeling unwell. The usual 4 Ts; Tired, Thirsty, Toilet, Thinner. I'd also developed a rash on my core which was put down to Measles or Chicken Pox. Generally, I was in good spirits. It was my birthday in a few days and Christmas a week after that. I didn't feel awful but I was drinking a lot of water and nothing was quenching the thirst. I was also told to stay home from school. What a bonus! an early break for the Christmas holiday. My friends would be so jealous! I'm so thirsty, though.

The following days were a blur. I spent most of my time asking for water, peeing or lying on the sofa. Relatives brought me a bottle of Lucozade - the good stuff with tonnes of glucose in it, unlike the modern day version which is less potent. Great! something new to drink. It didn't really improve my thirst, as you might imagine.

I knew something was wrong on the day of the collapse because I was feeling incredibly weak. Everybody was saying "Measles" and I believed the adults because they know best. 

It was mid-afternoon on the 17th of Dec 1984. A date which sticks in the memory like a scene from Back To The Future or The Terminator. Everything felt very strange and woozy. As an adult, I compare it to a very drunk sensation but not at all pleasant. Perhaps similar to waking up following surgery. Then the world went black. I'd fallen, face first, into the living room carpet. My mum heard the thump and rushed in to find me lying there. As a parent, I can only imagine her horror at entering the room to find her child in that position. The scooping up and phone call began and I regained consciousness.

"I'll take him to Dr Ishaq" proclaimed my dad, after a brief discussion when he arrived home.

Dr Ishaq was the local GP, his surgery was a 5 minute drive away. I think we made it in 3.

"Don't worry, it's probably just measles or maybe a bit of a flu" My dad tried to reassure. I didn't know what either was and, to be frank, I would've accepted anything at this point especially a pint of water.

I saw the doctor within seconds. He asked some questions of my parents and then took a look at the rash on my core.

"You'll have to take him to the Borough"

'The Borough' was the locally used name for Warrington Borough Hospital. Even at my tender age of 7, I knew of that following many overheard conversations.

"Jim from next door has broken his ankle, he's in The Borough"

"She was in and out of The Borough on the same day! 8lbs, he is, they're calling him Matthew"

So, I knew The Borough and now you do too - it's the hospital at the top of this blog and A&E was where I was heading in floods of tears. Hospitals are for operations, needles, blood! I was right about two of those.

"It's probably just a flu" one of my parents said on the drive over. Many hopes were being pinned on Measles and now Flu was on the table - both very serious illnesses but I suspect they were fearing much worse and their reassurance was as much for themselves as it was for me.

"Please slow down" I begged of my dad. It felt like he was driving at 100mph. He wasn't, I was just dizzy all the time now and the movement of the car, passing vehicles, trees, etc was making me feel worse. I was probably trying to buy myself some time, too because hospitals = operations, needles and blood.

Naturally, they wanted my bodily fluids and it began with the slightly scary urine sample. I wasn't frightened of passing urine but I was concerned about my room being full of nurses. Seriously, I remember there being 3 or 4 in there - all standing around to wait for me to have a wee into a container. In 1984 we must have had armies of nurses with spare time to watch young patients relieve themselves. I couldn't go and they quietly drifted away. Aaaah! finally. You're gonna need a bigger container and I need a drink of water.

Nothing really happened for a while. I was refused food and water and the evening drew on. Not really an emergency response, right?

"Don't worry... I think it's a flu. I don't think it'll take long" Dad was shifting around in his chair and mum had already gone home because she had my three other siblings to take care of.

Another nurse arrived, carrying a tray. Maybe this was my medicine and I can go home? If only. She was carrying a "BM" kit - now known as a Blood Glucose check.

"I just need to do a BM, Paul. It's a tiny finger prick"

"No! Dad!"

The panic was real.

"It's alright, you'll hardly feel a thing and it'll help them decide which medicine is best for you"

I poked out a finger (not that one) and turned the other way.

CLUNK!

"Oww!"

"All done, well done, you're so brave" the nurse tried to calm me. I cried and cried.

She left the room and what seemed like hours passed. My dad was growing agitated while I kept falling asleep and I was continually woken up. I was exhausted and hungry. Into the late evening, a gaggle of medical professionals appeared.

"We need to do a blood test, Paul. Is that alright?"

"No! You've already done that!"

"That was just a finger prick. We need a blood sample" the nurses gathered and my rage and panic grew.

"OK, but then can I go home?"

They nervously laughed. I was too tired to fight or even cry now. A blood sample was taken and they all disappeared again. It was very late, now perhaps midnight. A doctor appeared.

"We need to keep you in, Paul and I have to give you an injection, I'm very sorry"

The news just keeps getting better, eh?!  Too tired to fight and crying was definitely off the agenda - I was as dry as the desert.

"I'll call mum and ask her to bring your PJs. You're going to be alright" offered my dad, following the doctor out of the room after he'd administered my injection. I realise this was his opportunity to quiz him and the flock of nurses without me overhearing any bad news.

"Mum's on the way" he blurted as they pushing me down corridors towards the children's ward. "You can have something to eat and drink soon" he added.

Another finger prick happened after I arrived in my room. They kept me off the ward for some reason. Maybe to reduce my own stress? Soon after, I was granted some toast and a giant jug of water. I was feeling better. To this day, I don't know what was in that first injection apart from the obvious - insulin. Perhaps a mix of short and long acting. I thought I'd be in overnight because it was too late to let me go home and mum would take me back in the morning.

Morning came as did another finger prick. I was already becoming conditioned to them. No tears, I was just sad that I have to have another one after all the ones they did yesterday! Mum and dad were already there and they were ushered outside to "have a quick word about something".

The first time you hear your mum cry is a traumatic time. I didn't recognise it as being her. I thought someone was having a blood test or an injection and getting upset. Then I heard her muffled voice, talking and asking questions, crying some more. 

They entered the room with a different murder of nurses, including one who was dressed in normal clothing. I was about to find out that she was a DSN and was about to be told that I have Type 1 Diabetes, that it's nothing to worry about and I'll just need to look after what I eat. An education followed, books were handed over, leaflets offered. They left. I didn't think this was forever and the next injection would be my last. They went for a thigh and I kicked and screamed and made their life very difficult indeed.

"Someone is feeling better today!" I heard a nurse chuckle after witnessing the injection battle.

"Can I go home yet?"

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