Diabetes

type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Land O Diabetes

Okay seriously, somebody in the Land O Diabetes is bloody well out to get me. If Sunday wasn’t bad enough, on Monday, the kick-em-when-their-down diabetes gods made me forget my insulin pump at my Pilates studio, and not realize I was sans pump until I was back home again – 40 bloody minutes away from the damn studio! Most definitely starting to get pissed off here. Just as I was leaving work for the day, my Pilates chicks called me and asked if I could come in an hour earlier, which I thought was great. I had a ton of stuff I needed to get done at home including the ever-growing laundry pile I’d missed due to not being home Sunday night, and figured an extra hour in my evening would be perfect. I did my hour, worked around my sore knee, and before leaving, went into the washroom and changed […]

Land O Diabetes Read More »

Sunday bloody Sunday

Yesterday was a disastrous day for me on so many levels, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t want to write this post. I wanted to hide under my pillow and forget it never happened. But now, it’s truth time. Coming clean No. 1: Last week, in the last kilometre of my long run, I tweaked my knee. The pounding on the pavement proved too much for my legs, and my left hip once again got jammed so far up my back, it was as though my left leg was a bloody stump compared to my right. My physio yanked my hip back into place, did some fist kneading, and then put the ultrasound machine and ice on my knee to reduce the swelling. Within a day, everything was feeling back to normal. I took the week off from running and relied on the bike trainer and pilates for my fitness.

Sunday bloody Sunday Read More »

Happy – uhm – Anniversary

Just in time for the anniversary, my blood sugars decide to revolt against me – just as they did 24 years ago. Let’s take a walk down memory lane shall we. It was on this date, my friends, that I was offered my last guilt-free, auntie home-baked Mennonite cookie (the best EVER home-baked cookies!) of which I regretfully declined. Hours later I was told no home-baked cookies for you ever again. Bastards! (The docs were a lot more strict back then.) It was also my big sister’s 18th birthday. She’s now 42! Happy Birthday Jules, love you to pieces, and once again I apologize for ruining your birthday 24 years ago. But, in my defense, I was given a faulty pancreas, so really, it wasn’t my fault. Blame the dude upstairs for this one. Jules and I a few years ago with one of our nephews at my big, big brother’s

Happy – uhm – Anniversary Read More »

One for the bucket, one for the belly

Everyone told me not to do it, that I’d be far too uncomfortable, miserable even, but I didn’t listen, oh no. Me and my pretty girl gumboots were out picking berries yesterday afternoon in 30 degree heat, oh yes we were. And we looked pretty darn cute doing it too! Life is about fashion after all isn’t it 😉 Mario bought me the gumboots for Christmas three years ago and I haven’t had much opportunity to wear them as they sometimes cut the circulation off in my legs (not good) and really you need the right event to wear them to; they’re not just any old gumboot. I came close, last summer, of being able to wear them to a girlfriend’s outdoor wedding. The morning of the wedding, the rain was coming down in buckets and as I put my frilly sundress on, the excitement in my belly grew. Today

One for the bucket, one for the belly Read More »

Claustrophobic, germaphobic, stranger spermaphobic

Why is it when you don’t want something to happen, it always happens? Case in point: My current sun tan. I have never been a girl to lay for hours under the sun, or step foot in a tanning bed, or put orange blotchy creams on my skin to achieve the white girl, over-Brazilianed look. First of all, my self-diagnosed ADD wouldn’t ever allow me more than 3 minutes under the baking sun before I was jumping up, antsy to do something else; second of all, my claustrophobic, germaphobic, stranger spermaphobic (I’ve heard stories) would never allow me to get anywhere near a tanning bed; and third of all, the nuclear creams, did them once when I was 13 and had pumpkin-coloured hands for like a month after, no thank you! But most of all, I burn, and not a slight, light burn, a nasty, angry, beet red, sometimes eggplant

Claustrophobic, germaphobic, stranger spermaphobic Read More »