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Sixteen years. Wow. It’s been that long since I last had someone in the flesh to discuss my diabetes with, a peer who really, truly knew exactly what I went through day in and day out because they, too, were going through the exact same things. The  summer of 1994, I was 16, had raging hormones and Nine Inch Nails angst shooting through my veins, but for two weeks my parents were given a reprieve. Their beloved moody princess was shipped off to Camp Elphinstone on the Island as she had been every year since getting diabetes. I may not have always admitted it, and I may have sent some overly dramatic letters home in my first years begging my parents to let me come home in one letter and then the next pleading with them to let me stay longer, but I loved my camp years. It was the […]

Getting back into a routine again is tough. Even though I spent months longing for this day to arrive, and the entire morning this morning singing Back In The Saddle Again, I still went to bed last night and woke up this morning with the unnerving thoughts of ‘Do I really want to do this for another four months‘ filling my head. Today was the first day of the Run for Water marathon training and I got to say, it wasn’t easy. Oh the run was a breeze, a blast even, but the preparations beforehand were rather difficult. It all started just as I was getting ready for bed, when I felt a twang in my hip, a dull ache that was taking its sweet assed time to remove itself from my body. It’s not a new ache though, oh no, it’s the same hip that acts up every time

Being a rock star diabetic does have its drawbacks – like when you’re looking for medical expertise and the professionals look at you like you’ve got snot hanging out of your nose. They have no idea why you’re there or what to do with you. Now, I wouldn’t say that’s 100 per cent what happened to me today, but it would probably amount to 65 per cent. When I made the appointment with the insulin pump nurse and dietitian two months ago I was in dire straits. My blood sugars at the time were doing everything but being perfect. They were low. They were high. And nothing I did made them better. It was probably a good three to four weeks of blood sugar insanity before finally something in me clicked and I was once again on the BG perfection train. And just as I had no idea what set

That’s it, I am done with you. I’ve tried to be your friend for 32 years, Mr. English, but the friendliness is gone. I’m tired of your mixed messages, tired of your finicky rules, tired of your saying one thing and doing the complete opposite. I’m sick of your favouritism of the letter ‘u’ for some and not for others. I’m sick of your blatant love of capitalization one minute and loathing of it the next. I’m sick of being banned from words and phrases because suddenly you decide they’re a cliche. And by golly if I want to say “gotten” and “boughten,” I’m gonna say them. Because I’m sick of you! So, I think I might have gotten 😉 a bit frazzled at work today. I sort of announced, in a room full of English lovers, that I was quitting English. My exact words: That’s it. I’m done. I’m

Today was just one of those days where my inner clock seemed to be off by an hour or two. I blame the recently consistent mid-morning low blood sugars, and I think I’ve finally figured out why I’ve been having these morning lows: My breakfast oats. A few days ago when it was time to make up another batch of oats, I was feeling  lazy. And so Mario offered to make them because he’s nice like that, and I agreed because I’m lazy like that. However, Mario doesn’t yet know how to make the perfect protein oats which are chock-a-block full of soy protein powder and egg whites and chia seeds and vanilla and yum. So it’s been just plain stone cut oats for me the last few days, and while I do add nut butter and yogurt to them, I’m beginning to believe it’s just not enough protein for