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The T1D Diaries

A photoblog celebrating life and diabetes

Month / January 2017

Old Habits: RotKat

I was beginning to worry that diabetes had become your life, for the rest of your life.

A recent comment from son number 2

Management and integration of type 1 into one’s daily routine is indeed an almost full-time task. That is, if one wants to die of old age instead of diabetes complications. Poor Mary Tyler Moore. She did well. May she rest in peace. Continue Reading

Two by two

Another Machans sunrise. Every morning the same sun rising, every morning different. I love this part of my exercise routine: stop for a moment, retrieve that wonderful fujifilm kit from my bag, and frame the shot. On the walk home, think about using the pic in the next blog post. What shall I write? Continue Reading

Humans of Da Beach

Waking blood sugar is 4.9 mmol/L! Sky is clear, barometer is up, wind in the southeast, humidity bearable, the new Libre sensor is agreeable with a bloody finger prick: another perfect day in Paradise!

The lady in the featured photo we call ‘Elbow’. She and her friend and dogs are usually the first regulars we meet on our pre-dawn ‘get the sugar down’ walk. Elbow got her name because of the peculiar way she holds the dog leash. Elbow always monologues to her friend about the subterfuge, drama and intrigue at her place of employment. I suspect Elbow is at the root of it. Continue Reading

Stories

Exercise is a major pillar that props up my ‘die of old age, not disease’ project. Every day, rain, gale or shine, I walk six kilometres before breakfast, mount my trusty treadly (Oz slang for bicycle) for a thirty kilometre ride after breakfast, and walk six kilometres before the evening meal. Exercise has a huge impact on insulin sensitivity, and the effects last for up to 24 hours after the exercise.

The route is always the same, yet always different.

Continue Reading

Normalcy

On waking today my blood sugar was 4.8 mmol/L. That’s the same as a normal person’s. After breakfast and bike ride 3.9, before lunch 4.9. Yesterday’s numbers: 4.6, 5.8, 4.9, 4.8, 3.6, 7.3, 4.7. All pretty much normal.

Why do I value plain vanilla ordinary normalcy?

High Blood sugar levels Kill
Continue Reading

Freedom

I have a love / hate relationship with my Freestyle Libre. At the moment the pendulum has swung resolutely to love again. The Libre is what is known as a glucose monitor. Type 1 diabetics are unable to manage their blood sugar automatically, and must do so manually, usually through drawing blood several times a day. The Libre is a sensor / computer / transmitter stuck on and in my upper arm. It measures blood glucose every five minutes. Every few hours I hold a scanning device close to the sensor, and presto! I have a reading of my current blood sugar level, a trend indicator, and a graph of what my sugar has done for the past eight hours. Continue Reading

The ‘E’ word

I am an extremist.

I cause fear and terror whenever I eat in social situations. I eat plants. Only plants. No animal products. No meat, no fish, no eggs, no dairy. No oil, no fat. Whole foods, that is: plants that have undergone only minimal processing by machinery in a plant. That makes me extreme. Continue Reading

Remission?

Routine is the way of – and to – life for a diabetic: wake, check, eat, walk, check, inject, eat, ride, check, eat, sleep, check, eat, walk, check, eat, check, sleep, check, sleep, check, sleep. Then start all over again.

The objective is to control as many variables as possible, and so to mimic the body’s broken mechanism that is supposed to keep the sugar in my blood at a concentration of between 4 and 6 mmol/L. That is the equivalent of 4 to 6 grams of sugar in total, about 1 teaspoonful. It’s like fine-tuning a carburettor with a sledge hammer. Continue Reading

Wary and Weary

Cairns knows no seasons. There is merely the rainy season and the dry season. At this time of year the transition from the Dry to the Wet is in full swing. The air is hot and humid and tempers fray easily. Mango madness, they call it. For weeks the weather models have fruitlessly predicted it, the population is desperate for it, the dawn sky hints of it: rain. Continue Reading

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