Diabetes

type 1, insulin pump, blood glucose

Pristine disappointment

Diabetes

Dammit! Perfect eyes again 🙁 Every year I go to the eye specialist hoping, praying, begging that this will be the year she gives me a prescription, but nooooo, I get the nasty eye drops, I look like I’m stoned for the better part of a day with my pupils so super dilated, I get my eye pressure taken, which by the way so not fun, I get the blinding light shone directly into my cornea, and all I ask in return, is to be told, you need glasses. And every year, the specialist keeps coming at me with “Pristine eyes” “No diabetes damage here” “So great to see you” I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THOSE WORDS!!! For fear of being offed by every sight deficient person in the world, I should probably elaborate here. I don’t want to be blind, and I don’t want diabetes damage to my eyes, […]

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Sloth in sneakers

Diabetes, Running

Okay, so maybe climbing the Grouse Grind, and drinking beer and eating decadent cheesecake the day before a long run wasn’t the smartest running decision made. The first 5 km felt like my body was twisted up into a million knots and it was not going to untwist kindly, oh no. I was struggling to maintain a constant pace, or even just a good pace, I was slow, oh man, was I ever slow. And my ankles and calves were so super tight, I was begging the running gods to take pity on me. And yet, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. That cheesecake, ohhhhh that decadent Princess-famed cheesecake, was worth every tight step endured. Loving the post-run stretch. After two and a quarter years of living in the loft, Mario and I finally had my brother, sister in law and three nephews over for dinner on Saturday. And because

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Getting a head start

Diabetes, Training

The things I learned yesterday: If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, stay home. If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, and you do go out, pack a change of socks, shoes, and maybe even a towel or two. If it’s pouring bathtubs of rain outside, and you have a scheduled date, never ever leave the house without first double checking that you got the right date. When I woke up at 7 a.m. yesterday morning to get ready for the Grouse Grind, every bone in my body wanted to stay in bed, especially with the continuous rat-a-tat-tat of the rain I could hear outside. This was not optimum Grind-climbing weather. Sunny days, overcast days, a little sprinkle here and there, great. Monsoon, not so great. Had it been any other day, I would have bailed, said forget it, just wrapped my blanket around me and vegged on the couch

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Giggling off the poppycock

Diabetes, Training

You’ve got to be freaking kidding me! So, you know that dictionary of doctor talk I told you all about the other night, well turns out it was just a load of poppycock. Yes, poppycock! My soon-to-be super doctor extraordinaire diabetic chick translated the manual for me last night and I swear not even a minute in she was laughing, but it wasn’t a hearty laugh, it was more like a here we go again kind of laugh. She told me there was basically just one sentence in there I needed to know, which in human language said something to the effect of If you have type 1 diabetes and if you’re an endurance athlete, you’re pretty much hooped. Awesome. Translating the secret doctor code My soon-to-be doctor diabetic chick has seen these words before, many times. She tried doing a research paper on endurance sports for Type 1s, and

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‘Like a dog humping a football’

Diabetes, Training

Sometimes, I think I was meant to be of the male species. Shocking, you say. Yes, yes, I love my skirts and dresses, and the colour pink, and being a total girly girl. But I also love drinking beer with the boys. Maybe it has something to do with growing up with a big brother and a big, big brother and always wanting to do what the big boys were doing. Regardless, I’ve almost always felt more comfortable with the boys than I have with the girls (sorry girls) they’re just … easier. So last night when Mario asked if I wanted to join him and his best mans for a night at the UBC Grand Prix, which meant I’d essentially be crashing a boys night, I didn’t even think twice in my acceptance. I am practically one of the guys, just a lot more pretty is all 😀 Three

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