It’s time for a real cure

Spring is in the air which means its the season to Walk for a Cure which brings with it news paper articles about Type 1 diabetes. The article below sums up how I feel especially during the JDRF Walk for a Cure season.


By Katie RobinsonMay 05 2007 It’s time for a real cure. Twenty years ago – Aug. 23, 1987 – I was diagnosed with juvenile Type 1 diabetes. I didn’t fully understand the disease; I was only nine years old after all. But what I did understand was that my life and my parents lives and my siblings lives from that day forward would never be the same again.


I was forced to omit favoured foods like five-cent candies and chocolate from my diet. I was forced to take needles, sharp scary-looking needles, every single day. And I was forced to endure the constant curiosity and sometimes even disgust at what I was doing.
I did not accept my fate. Every opportunity I had, I rebelled against this disease. I threw my lunches out; “Why should I have to eat carrots when my friends are eating cookies?” I thought. I gave my mom’s plants and couches my insulin injections; “What am I? A pin cushion?” I would say. I used to pass out and go into convulsions. A lot.


I passed out in ditches. I convulsed in my bed during the wee hours of the morning. One time, I even gave myself a concussion after passing out with my head smashing into the corner of a coffee table.


Thankfully, I have come to terms with my disease. I am active. I eat properly. I take my injections. And I can often be heard saying: “It’s better than cancer.”
But is it? This past week I had the opportunity to hang out with 10-year-old Eric Gray, who was diagnosed with juvenile Type one diabetes last year. The memories came flooding back.
On the surface, Eric appears to be a typical 10-year-old kid. He likes to play basketball. He likes to hang out with his friends. He likes to put on the charm with his freckled nose squinching up and his wide-expanding smile showing the deep divids of his dimples.


But when his blood sugars are low, he’s not smiling. When his blood sugars are high, he’s not smiling. When he has to take his breakfast and dinnertime injections, he’s not smiling.
“It sucks,” he said matter of factly. It does. In 12 months, Eric endures over 3,600 finger pokes and 1,000 injections. In 20 years, I have endured over 72,000 finger pokes and 21,000 injections.


I don’t watch movies like Steel Magnolias for fear of nightmares. I constantly worry that my kidneys will one day fail me; my eyesight will one day fade to black; my feet will one day succumb to gangrene.


At 29, I should not be having these fears. And at 10, Eric should not be having to ask his mom: “Will I die?” because diabetes has the word “di” in it.
Over 200,000 Canadians have Type 1 diabetes. Canada has the third highest occurrence rate of Type 1 diabetes in children 14 years or younger in the world. And that rate is consistently rising by three to five per cent every year.


It’s time for a cure, a real cure, because insulin is not a cure. If enough people participate in the June 10 JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation) Walk – a walk to cure diabetes – maybe, just maybe, future kids will have that cure.
Katie Robinson is a reporter with the Chilliwack Progress.

Flying High

I finally came down from the high blood glucose scurry I have been on the past few weeks it mysteriously dropped that very same day I got my period. I wish I could tell when my hormones decide to go crazy as it did the past three weeks.


Last night was an adventure Tuesday evenings are site change evenings at the House O Adjoa, Saturday Mornings is site and cartridge change. After an evening run, I ripped out my old site enjoyed a long hot shower and inserted a new site. I settled down to once again try to get Windows Mobile Device center to communicate with my pocket PC phone, this problem is getting old and on my last nerves. Just when I thought I had figured out the issue my laptop battery dies, I will tackle this issue at another time.


I tested my blood glucose which was in a good range and proceeded to watch Gilmore girls I cried when Rory graduated from Yale. You will think my emotional state will have clued me in, I watched Veronica Mars, teased my sister for surfing the net via her pocket PC phone because her laptop also died and was charging.


I drifted off to sleep, woke up after about two hours to pee, drink water and turn off the TV noting to myself to have a greener day tomorrow before getting back into bed.

I struggled to tell the time I think its 8am but it’s still dark out, it must be 3am. I need to pee and my mouth is sticky and dry I need water I get out of bed. The water is making me nauseous, maybe it’s too warm my blood glucose rings in at 15mmol/l (270) I take a correction insulin dose and go back to sleep. I wake up at 6am with blood glucose of 18mmol/l (324), feeling like I have been run over by a trucker trailer.


My insulin pump site was completed detached from my body! WHAT? I have no idea how or when it happened. I have been pretty lucky and had only had one bad site prior to this I re-inserted a new site and went to work.
I went through the day angry, angry at diabetes.