Shoot Up or Put Up

Clubbing - Belgian style

Last weekend I met up with two old school friends in the party capital of Europe, uhm, Brussels. While it may have a reputation for bureaucracy and dreary boringness, Brussels does actually have a great night-life, so soon after arriving we went out to hit the pubs and bars of the capital of the EU. Woo!

After sampling some (by “some”, I mean “quite a lot of”) cherry wine in a bar that used to be brothel, we headed off to Les Halles Saint-Gery and the famous club night “Stop Suffering and Start Dancing” which was being held in large, sweaty, crowded, smoky nightclub. As always when clubbing I had the issue of what to do with my insulin while I partied like it was 1999.

As I’ve mentioned before I carry all my diabetic kit around in one of a variety of funky man-bags. But the problem is you can’t check said bag into the cloakroom as you’ll inevitably need to test your blood glucose or inject at some point between arriving at midnight and leaving at 4am. So the only obvious solution was to head onto the dance floor, bag in tow.

So if you happened to be at Les Halles Saint-Gery last Saturday night and some git in the very centre of the dance floor, who danced like some sort of escaped lunatic (and was accompanied by a ginger monster and bearded freak*) kept bashing you with a brown leather Visconti bag then I can only apologise profusely. I’m sorry, I really am, but I had no other choice.

While dancing like a loon I was inevitably burning off calories (and producing my own bodyweight in sweat – yum!) leading to the obvious risk and tedium of sorting out a hypo. So I duly checked my BG (the strip light on the Freestyle Lite proved very useful for testing in a club that was seemingly only lit with flashing strobes). I was pleased to see that appeared to have created a perfect equilibrium between the energy I was using up and the carbs in the beer I was glugging down all night.

Who would have thought it? A bottle of Satan beer (yes, it is called that. If you can find it, try it as it’s very nice. Though at 8% it is rather strong…) every hour perfectly balances an hour of dancing like a maniac.

That beer can be put to this use is, I think, a very important discovery. So I will be applying to Diabetes UK for funding to conduct a great deal of further research. Naturally we will need plentiful supplies of beer and night clubs with good music. Any diabetic volunteers want to help out?

* It’s worth noting that Dave (said “ginger monster”) is the person who came up with the name of this blog and, indeed, the very tasteful sub-title. For this he deserves credit. It’s also worth nothing that Mat (said “bearded freak”) has contributed nothing.

Generic diabetes-related pictorial filler

If, for some weird, inexplicable and entirely hypothetical reason you were given a choice of which chronic illness you had to be inflicted with, diabetes might actually be somewhere at the top of your list.

None of us wanted to become pancreatically-challenged and I daresay if a cure arrived tomorrow (it won’t, by the way (and even if it did, it wouldn’t be available on the NHS)) we would all jump at the chance of finally being shot of diabetes once and for all. But, while it’s undoubtedly a pain, it’s a lot better than other, inferior, chronic illnesses because:

•   It’s under our control. Very generally speaking, the better we look after ourselves the better our quality of life and the fewer bad consequences we’ll suffer when we’re ancient. We do actually have a lot of control over our chronic illness. It’s not as if we expect to find ourselves writhing and foaming on the floor at utterly random times, or regaining consciousness in a seedy motel room 300 miles from home with no idea how we got there, á la Fight Club.

•    Short term problems are easy to treat. Obviously extreme highs and lows can lead to a spell in hospital but these are very rare. If our blood glucose goes too high we can shove in more insulin. If our blood glucose goes too low we simply guzzle down a pile of cakes, fruit pastilles or other delicious, sugary delicacies. Minor problems can be quickly and easily treated ourselves.

•   We only need occasional hospital visits. Everyone, without exception, hates hospitals. But I only have to go up to my local hospital for a thorough check up every 7 months and it takes about an hour or so. Frequent visits to the doctor and long, painful treatments are not required.

•   It probably won’t kill us. With well managed diabetes we can expect to live out our three score years and ten. Diabetics don’t tend to die young. I don’t know about you but I think this is actually quite a Good Thing.

•    It’s actually quite healthy. Aside from the whole pancreas-not-working thing, diabetes is pretty good for you as we’re encouraged to have a healthy diet and exercise a reasonable amount. The fact that life is easier if we do these things is quite a good incentive for actually doing them.

•   There’s not much blood. We might get a few bruises and our finger tips might be ravaged, but diabetes involves seeing only tiny amounts of blood for testing, etc. – and most of our blood stays within us. This is definitely a Good Thing. Try eating lunch and reading blogs about haemophilia (with lots of photos, of course) and you’ll know what I mean. We’re lucky!

•    It’s inconspicuous. Unless you tell them most people will not know you are diabetic as there are no outward signs you have it. This allows us to be as open, or as private, as we like about our diabetes. Some people like to only tell their partners or a few close friends that they’re pancreatically-challenged, while others delight in injecting in full view in crowded nightclubs. So at least we have the choice how we deal with it.

So there you have it. Diabetes might be a complete drag at times, but compared to other chronic illnesses it’s a walk in the park. Thanks my non-working pancreas chum!

Shelly's new motor-yacht

Just two short bloglettes today for your enjoyment. Firstly, some of you may be vaguely aware that as well as running a top quality blog, we also have a forum at http://forum.shootuporputup.co.uk. The Shoot Up forum quietly ticks along and to be harsh, but fair, not a great deal happens over there. Personally, I quite like it because I’ve configured the forum so flashing emoticons, pictures and inane signatures can’t be displayed – bliss!

Anyway, while there are infinitely better diabetes forums out there - http://www.diabetessupport.co.uk is a good example – occasionally the soaraway Shoot Up forum has a few gems of goodness. A case in point as a long running thread at http://forum.shootuporputup.co.uk/topic.php?id=2 describing how we were diagnosed with diabetes and memories of that fateful, heart-sinking day when we discovered we were a member of pancreatically-challenged club. Anyway, it’s a good read if you ignore my stupid comments about spies and stuff on the first page.

Secondly, our chum Shelly at Circle D has blatantly asked us to plug her new eBook “Living with Diabetes 24 hours a Day – A Personal Journey” which is available here. As we’re hoping that Shelly will invite us on one the yachts she’ll inevitably buy with the profits, we’re more than happy to give her said plug.

Shelly also runs Circle D and organises diabetes-related socials down in sunny Kent and she is a font of diabetes knowledge and support – so check out her site and buy her book, so she can become the colossus of the diabetes world that she richly deserves to be! Rrraaaagh!

http://circledrocks.co.uk/

There are certain things in life that only those of us who are pancreatically challenged will ever have the pleasure of doing. Having a heated debate about whether or not you lick your finger after doing a blood test is one of those things. Said debate over at Diabetes Mine got me thinking.

I lick. I’ve always licked. It has never occurred to me to do anything with the left over blood on the end of my finger other than to lick it (or occasionally spread it round my sheets)

I’ve been licking for almost 27 years now and so far no horrific consequences have befallen me despite the gallons of blood I must have swallowed. Here’s where it gets disappointing. My thinking went along the lines of – 27 years with diabetes, guestimate an average of 5 blood tests a day, a lick each time, I’m virtually a vampire I’ve ingested so much of my own blood.

If we assume a blood test takes on average 1 microlitre of blood for the machine and another 3 microlitres left on the finger for licking purposes, that gives us a starting point.

I’ve had diabetes for almost 27 years or 9,862 days to the nearest year (including leap years – thank you pedantic husband).

Work on an average of 5 blood tests a day, every day and that gives you 49,310 blood tests since my pancreas packed in (which in itself I think is a pretty impressive number).

If I lick 3 microlitres per blood test that means I’ve ingested 147,930 microlitres of blood over the years.

Sadly, it takes a million microlitres to make a litre which means after 27 years of committed licking I’ve only managed to ingest 148ml of my own blood. That’s about the size of one of those small cans of diet coke you get on a plane.

What is it with diabetes and size? I thought I took insulin by the gallon but then discovered it takes less than a teaspoonful per day to keep me alive.

Now I’ve discovered that all those hard years of testing and licking would barely sustain a mosquito on a diet.

If I was a vampire I’d have starved to death by now.

Note: The numbers in this article are a stab in the dark. I’m really not that interested whether they’re 100% accurate or not. I’ve already had a tedious discussion with the husband about rounding up and down, decimal places and how much blood I lick versus what goes onto the test strip. I’m starting to wish I’d never started this. Please just be amazed by the scale rather than finicky about the maths

As part of of our ongoing series, type one diabetic Mark Mansheim describes a typical day:

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I begin my day at 6 am with a gentle wake up from my wife.  She is very aware that if my blood sugar is too low, e.g. if I’m not responsive, she immediately gives me sugar.  I generally take a sports gel pack or teaspoon of honey to bring me back up.  My wife also is aware that we diabetics can react very unpredictably regarding hypoglycemia, especially when your husband (me) has been studying the martial arts for almost 27 years!

On a typical day though, I reach for my OmniPod insulin pump and test my blood sugar.  From there, I will either eat or get ready for the day.  After breakfast, I help my wife get our boys ready for school.  I then drive the 25 miles to Atlanta for work.  Boring isn’t it?  I make a point to test my blood sugar three to five times at work.  Why so many?  Well for one, I don’t like not knowing if my blood sugar is too high or too low throughout the day.  Secondly, it really sucks going ‘low’ during a meeting or during my ride home.

Actually, my diabetes plays very little in my work, which is great.  Unlike someone who does a lot of physical activity, I am a desk jockey.  My job is in Information Technology, so I do very little physical exertion.  I do have the luxury of telecommuting (working from home) three days a week, so I’m blessed in those regards.  I leave work around 4 pm each day to combat traffic.  Once I’m home, I test for dinner, eat, and help our boys with their homework OR help my wife clean.  Okay, yes, I do laundry and clean bathrooms.  I’m no slouch!

Okay, so if you’re a fellow diabetic, you probably want the numbers, e.g. insulin amounts, blood sugars, etc.  So here you go…  On a typical day, my total insulin amounts are 32 to 34 units.  Why so low?  Well, I suffer from irritable bowel syndrome, so I don’t eat large amounts of food.  In fact, I eat as little as possible at a meal.  I also try not to snack ‘cause that add inches to the waistline.  Right now, my average blood sugars are in the 120’s.  (Yes, you can hate me now.) [That's about 6 in British - yes, Mark, I do hate you - Tim] It’s really due to the low food intake.

Do I exercise?  Yes, as much as my schedule allows.  I love to cycle and walk.  I love being outdoors.  I love playing with our sons.  Being active is the key.

Lastly, I make absolutely sure to test my blood sugar before bed time.  If there’s anything I’ve learned with diabetes, it is not to assume all is okay.  I’ve gone to bed thinking, “Oh, I’m fine.  I tested two hours ago and was a 120 [about 6.5 - Tim].  What could go wrong?”  Well, as we all know, lots can go wrong in just a short amount of time; never assume.

I hope you enjoyed my boring story.  I’m not a super spy or hold a cool job like other folks I know.  I do work for a great non-profit, Habitat for Humanity International.  So if you’re looking for a great volunteer opportunity, give us a try.  Building a home is a wonderful experience.

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Mark is type one and lives with his wife and two children in Atlanta, USA and blogs about his diabetes over at http://thejaggededge.blogspot.com – very well worth a read! See our other days here; and if you fancy writing about your diabetic day why not drop Tim an email?

I recently had cause to look at my fingers. Not a high octane thrilling experience, I’m sure you’ll all agree. But I did notice the array of tiny dots caused by the last zillion, or so, blood tests that my poor, ravaged fingers have had to endure. While I can never take a break from diabetes, I thought that my mangled fingers could do with a rest and so I decided to give alternate site testing a go.

My first meter, along with the myriad that I’ve used since, came with the obligatory finger poker. Said finger poker came with an alternate clear bit to shove on the end for what the guidebook described as “alternate site testing”. “How thrilling”, I thought, as I chucked the apparently useless bit into the bin.

However, last week I dug through the rancid, rotting fish bones in the bottom of my bin and pulled out said clear finger poker bit and gave it a go. Incidentally I’m not really sure why finger pokers have a clear end bit for alternate site testing. Answers below if you have any idea.

Anyway, back to the article; with my poker ready to poke I started with my palm. The first thing I noticed, pretty quickly, was that it hurt. Quite a lot. Maybe my crusted fingertips are so covered in scar tissue that I can no longer feel anything through them – not even a sharpened piece of metal being thrust into them. (Bang goes a career in delicate eye surgery). But, whatever, it seemed more painful than the fingertips.

I also noticed that a bleeding palm is quite difficult to give a squeeze to get that little extra bit of blood out as you do with your fingertips. As a result I failed to fill up three test strips and my meter moodily displayed its nagging “You haven’t put enough blood on, eejit!” message (I have a very rude meter).

The palm being a failure, I then moved on to inflict some misery on my forearms. The fatal flaw with my arms is that they’re quite hairy. Not exactly the matted fur of a gorilla, but certainly enough hair to be going on with. Said hair just made things trickier but, bravely, I persisted.

Much like the palm, the arm isn’t very squeezable and so getting that all important extra drop of blood out was quite difficult. So I increased the depth gauge on the poker until I could swear I could hear the lancet scraping against bone every time I attacked myself.

Finally the mission was accomplished and I managed an alternate site reading. However, I then observed, with mild revulsion, how much your arms actually bleed after being stabbed with a full-depth lancet. After my five or six attempts I looked like I had enjoyed a jolly evening of self-harm but, hey, at least I had my reading.

So will I continue to alternate site test? Probably not. It generally seemed like a pain in the arse and wasn’t very successful. However, because of the post-test self-harming-look I might save the arm-tests for Hallowe’en parties.

I know you’ve also been waiting for weeks in eager anticipation of our latest poll results. Well, dear readers, wait no more!

Last time we asked how involved you got in diabetes politics. In other words, if you don’t like something about your diabetes care what do you do about it?

Apparently not a lot. With the majority (56%) noting that they got angry but didn’t, in fact, actually do anything about it. From this I guess we can conclude that the majority of diabetics are frustrated passive-aggressive balls of misery. Hurrah!

However, a sizeable number of firebrands actively chase their MPs, health boards and so on to try and force complacent health providers to improve their care. A smaller minority of 12% (whom I suspect is just Alison voting multiple times!) cared enough to note that they would be prepared to start riots, set fire to things and generally cause a nuisance (I suppose violent insurrection is quite a nuisance) to make changes to diabetic health provision.

Finally, the smallest minority (4%) just didn’t give a toss, evidently preferring to vegetate on their sofas instead of actively looking after their health. And, as they say, why not?

The new poll is all about how often you think about your diabetes on a daily basis. Are you obsessive compulsive about it or downright negligent? Click over to the right to register your vote!

Those results in full:

I get cross, but don’t actually do anything – 56%
I’ve written to my MP about diabetes – 28%
Rrragh! Man the barricades! -12 %
Meh, diabetes issues? Who cares? – 4%

We’re off to Disneyworld in a couple of weeks for a bit of much needed Disney magic. Amidst the excitement it did set me thinking. What would diabetes be like if it was managed by Disney, that all encompassing factory of magical happiness?

If Disney did diabetes…

• My pump would wake me up in the morning with a cheery blast of Zip-a-de-doo-dah
• I wouldn’t be high, I’d be magically elevated
• I wouldn’t be hypo, I’d be having a magical moment
• You’d no longer experience that horrid time in limbo when you’re sitting on the floor waiting for the sweat to subside and the sugar to kick in after a hypo. Oh no, that time would be filled with amazing fireworks displays, beautifully choreographed to classic Disney tunes.
• Insulin would be measured in fairy drops, not units
• I’d have to fight with a certain mouse named Mickey to get to a nice low carb cheese snack
• As a motivator to maintain glucose levels within target range, any results out of range will trigger my meter to play “It’s a small world” on a loop until it gets a result within range. (This way lies madness me thinks!)
• HbA1c results would be delivered via the medium of dance – a good result gets you Mickey and Minnie surrounded by hundreds of dancing showgirls. A less than favourable result is delivered by a screeching Cruella de Ville.
• Snow White would lend me one of her dwarves to carry my diabetes junk round for me (I’m not fussy which dwarf, although I’m pretty good at being Grumpy and Dopey myself so it’s probably best she lends me one of the other 5)
• When I’m having a bad diabetes day and the world is getting me down, a meerkat/warthog dancing combo would appear and serenade me with an uplifting rendition of Hakuna Matata
• The whole thing would be even more expensive than it already is, but somehow you’d feel it was worth the money

Any more suggestions? Have a nice day!

As I write this I’m still gently suffering from my hangover resulting from the Shoot Up night out yesterday. I have a sneaking suspicion that one of the glasses of merlot I consumed was off, hence feeling slightly off-key today. However, it’s nothing a gallon of water and two paracetamol won’t cure.

Anyway, self-inflicted misery aside, yet again we had a thoroughly good turnout of Edinburgh’s pancreatically-challenged hoards. While I carefully brought my camera with me I stupidly neglected to take a single photo, so you’ll just have to take my word for it that a good time was had by all.

Given that Edinburgh-based diabetics clearly enjoy a pint or two, I’m planning the next night out for sometime in late March / early April or thereabouts. So keep an eye on events calendar down there (*points down the right of your screen*) for times and dates!

As a result of wildly popular demand, the next Shoot Up night out is scheduled for Saturday 13 February. Taking place in the heart of sunny Edinburgh, we plan to  eat food in a restaurant – to behave like civilised people [update: someone neglected to book a table in time - Valentine's weekend busy, who'da thought it? Duh! So forget the restaurant bit] – and then proceed to the pub – to behave like un-house-trained animals.

If the thought of sharing breathing space with a bunch of diabetics appeals to you (and I bet it does) then head over to our Facebook page for all the gory details:

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=270821976326&ref=ts

As always, everyone welcome – this includes partners, non-diabetics, fans of the blog, stalkers, etc. See you there!