It's Halloween tomorrow!

And I swear, if I hear one more comment of "Don't eat too much, you'll get diabetes!" then THERE WILL BE PAIN.

(Sorry for the insane lateness of this post. I was going to say 'life, you know...', but I really have no excuses.)

I'm going as Anne of Green Gables and I'm actually SUPER STOKED. Everybody cross your fingers for no rain, or at least no heavy rain?

And now, on the note of DIABETES MONTH starting in TWO days...*drumroll please*....I have more than 10 blue shirts. Which means that I shall be wearing blue EVERY day! Woohoo!
And my other goal shall be to post every day in November. I'm sure I'll have plenty to blog about, 'cause, firstly, it's diabetes month so I shall be an advocate and I shall wear blue, secondly, I get to go all-out blue on November 14th (World Diabetes Day!!!), thirdly, Bubbles shall be encased in blue 24/7, and lastly but MOST IMPORTANTLY, Z is coming to visit!!!!!!!!!!! CAN'T CONTAIN THE EXCITEMENT! *llama dances for joy*

Excuse all the caps. I'm low. And looking forward to candy tomorrow. :)

Good days.

Last night I had an hour-and-seven-minute long skype conversation with my favourite DPB Z. It was SO awesome, although it did make me realize how much I miss camp and diabetic friendliness. <3

But it was freakin' awesome, and I look forward to doing it again. And I can't wait until we get to see each other in person (again)!

So, I'm in a rather good mood, although I have had more lows than I'd like recently, but I've got a clinic on Friday (WOOHOO!) so hopefully we'll get some stuff sorted out.
And I know that I'm going to have an AWESOME A1c! (I'm actually jittery in anticipation XD)

AND - yesterday I learned a two valuable life lessons. One is that when I'm low, sometimes, I'm hyper. And everything is HILARIOUS. And none of my friends understand this low-induced-hyperness. (Z does though - Capture the flag, man! "This is defective!")
The other, incredibly valuable, lesson is that when you clap two glucose tablets together, they sound like metal on metal. Like when you bang two quarters together? That's what it sounds like. Seriously. No joke. It was SO funny. You have NO idea. ;)

On another, still awesome, note, I'm going to enter the JDRF youth video contest this year. Can't wait! :)

It's October 13th.

Which means that I've had diabetes for three years, today.

And I didn't even remember until ten minutes ago.

Three years doesn't seem like long, especially since I'm the 'youngest' diabetic I know. But to think how far I've come in three years, how much things have changed, how different things are now than they were three years ago...well.
I've grown, I've changed, I've dealt with numbers, needles, highs, lows, emotions, and I've had to incorporate this extra thing into my already-busy-enough life.

Diabetes has been a part of my life for three years, which seems to be a long time (even though it's really not.) I'm starting to forget life before diabetes.
I just deal with it every day, without really thinking about it or noticing it. Every day is just another day, until BAM, three years are gone.
It's always with me. Diabetes never takes a vacation, and whenever I think I can not think about it, I have to deal with a low, or a high, or a jab from the uneducated community, or a pump-contact-with-wall. It never goes away.

Sometimes I think I can't do this, and how much a cure would mean.
But then, more often, I think about how much a part of my life this is and how weird it would be to not have to deal with it. I wouldn't be who I am today without it.

It may not always be noticeable, but it's always there and it always will be. Every day. For the rest of my life.

But it's only been three years.

And I have many more to come.

You'll never bring me down, diabetes.

I think I've gone insane...

I read this post on Animas, through SixUntilMe, (I love how direct and completely true it is), and I decided that I'm going to post the thought that's been going through my head because I am who I am and if you think I'm crazy, that's okay, because it's entirely possible. I'm putting myself out there as who I am, and I'm proud of it.

I've found out that when you leave me alone in a house for more than an hour, strange thoughts develop.

Like my balls of yarn who are developing personalities.

I just realized that some people who don't know me very well or at all are going to read this and think I'm an absolute maniac.

So, all of my teachers who I respect immensely - I'm not as crazy as this make me seem, I promise.


Y'see, the Astra balls, they stick together. The electric blue, the variegated gold and the orange, they're all buddies. They're all beautiful, soft, and kind. They're wonderful to work with and you can't help but want to hug them. The blue and the variegated are really close - they're not as much without the other. The orange is a bit of a third wheel, and he's fading, fast. But they don't mind because they all know that everyone has destinies and we all have to move on.

The Red Heart pink variegated - well, she looks nice, but when you get to know her she's quite coarse and thick. She's alright to work with, but she's not usually the first choice.

The yellow-gold smiley-face-coloured ball. He's nice and all, but he's thick and hard to get through to. Someone who will stick up for the smaller, weaker ones. He's not afraid to show his bright side, but he doesn't really like working as part of a team most of the time.

The eyelash blue looks like a sweetheart. She's fuzzy and bright, a lot like a puppy. But also like a puppy, she doesn't listen, doesn't behave, and is often quite irritating to work with.

Now, the Starlette, they're a gang. A nice gang. Everywhere you look they're there. They're happy to work with anyone, they're always bright and cheery, but they're also very hard to shake off. You get rid of one, there's an identical one right behind it, smirking at you.

Now that I'm thinking of this, maybe the Astra variegated gold is diabetic. We kind of had a bond, right from the start. I wanted to take him right into my arms and my heart, wanted to keep him forever. Maybe that's why the blue is so close to him - every diabetic has their awesome, special friend(s).

***

So, apparently, that's why I have so much yarn and I can't seem to get rid of it.

 

Diabetic wool? Really?

 

I give up. EMBRACE THE CRAZY, PEOPLE!

Dreams.

I've been thinking a lot about my future recently.
I'm in Grade 10 now, so in the big picture, graduation and the real world is just around the corner.

I used to have hour-long crying sessions because I didn't want to grow up.

But now, the thought of it kind of excites me.

I love thinking about firsts. First kiss, first date, first boyfriend, first year university, first drive...

I love thinking about life on my own. Rooming with my best friend, going to university to fulfill my dream career (not really sure what yet...probably pediatric nurse), living in the big city, budgeting so I won't be broke.

I love thinking about life in the future. My wedding day, my husband, my house, my children, my career.

I love thinking about how exiting it will be. Responsibilities, freedom, love...even the thought of paying my own bills is weirdly exciting.

I didn't want to grow up.

But I think I'm ready now.

Lost and found - No longer alone.

So. Here's a story that I wrote for English. I had planned to post it right after I got it back, but that didn't turn out and when I remembered (a few days ago) I had to go find it because it wasn't in my documents. A lot of confusion came to pass that day.

Well, after a lot of wandering around lost and alone on my computer, here is my narrative essay camp story. It's about my first two camp experiences, because I wrote it before this year's camp and I wanted to do both years because I wanted the new-girl aspect but the story wasn't complete without Z. Who shall now be known as Kai. (I've change people's names because I love them and I'd really rather not encourage any creepers that I really hope aren't out there. <3) (Sorry for all the run-on sentences here. I just had cookies.)

No longer alone



I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at the vulnerable age of twelve. I thought my life was over, thought I’d never be happy again. I felt alone, lost and confused. I didn’t think that anybody could ever possibly understand what I was going through or how I felt. I didn’t even know anybody else with diabetes. When I learned about camp, I thought that maybe I would give it a try. Maybe there would be somebody who could understand. Maybe I wasn’t alone after all.

Camp Elphinstone out on Sechelt was warm at the beginning of July. The grass was a bright and vibrant green; the water was sparkling in the sun’s happy rays. Laughter danced behind every tree, over every hill, flowing with the wind. The flag snapped joyfully in the breeze and encouraged many smile-filled interpretive dances. I wasn’t alone any more. I was surrounded by people who had diabetes, people just like me, people who had to pay attention to everything, people who really knew how I felt. For the first time in nine months, I felt free, happy, understood. I don’t really know how I learned about camp. I remember, vaguely, people talking. It was during those three days – the life-changing period of time when I learned that I had diabetes – when somebody told me there were other people like me, people who knew how I felt. And that some of them went to camp in the summer. Naturally, because of my state of denial, the fact that there was somewhere that I could have fun with this condition didn’t register until much later. When I first walked up to the massive gathering of laughing people, I felt shy and small, the characteristics that I’d always had showing themselves. But they let me in to the circle without hesitation. I started to smile with them, realising that these people were all like me. We were different, together.

Being who I am, I was still quite shy. It took somebody talking to me to get me to open up. “Hi! I’m Kai!” “I’m Kathleen. Do I know you from somewhere?” “You do look familiar… Did you come last year?” “Yep.” “Hm. How long have you had diabetes?” “A year and nine months.” “And you’re at camp already? Do you have a pump?” “Yeah – it’s an Animas.” “Cool! I’ve got a Medtronic.” The bond was instantaneous and strong.

I couldn’t help but smile all week. There were people who understood. I remember hours spent lying on our bunks, laughing until we couldn’t breathe. All the worry, all the responsibility – it didn’t go away, but it went to the back of my mind, freeing up some space for laughter.

During the week nearly everybody I met had diabetes and so we had an immediate, mutual, understanding bond. Every counselor dedicated themselves to the kids and was fun to be with. The activities we did were new things that I’d never done before – archery, kayaking and sailing are just a few examples. Everything was done with friends by my side, support from all around, and health professionals just around the corner. One of my absolute favourite things happened right after lunch. It was our cabin’s turn to clean the kitchen, and my friend and I volunteered to take out the garbage. Grabbing me by the arm, Kai yelled “We’ll take out the garbage!” We were dragging the heavy bag outside to the dumpsters when something started to get to us. To this day, we don’t know if it was hormones, heat, blood sugars or food. “To be or not to be! That is the question! Whether to suffer the slings and arrows of whatever whatever or to…” We both dissolved into giggles. The next hour was spent collapsed on our beds laughing so hard that we were literally gasping for breath. “This moment shall henceforth be known as SHAKESPEARE!”

The week was full of moments like this – random little inside jokes that doubled us over with laughter. ‘Tickle tickle’, ‘Hello Ladies’ and ‘Are your ears burnt?’ are perfect examples. It put diabetes in the backs of our minds (the doctors helping us every step of the way could worry about that), leaving us open to laughter and fun.

When the week was over – it had gone much too fast - we packed our belongings with heavy hearts, the laughter nonetheless fresh in our minds. As we boarded the bus down to the ferry terminal, we talked about the cool activities, the inside jokes, the awesomely stable blood sugars. We were getting off the bus when we met one of our friends who hadn’t known where we were. She jumped around a pole when she saw us. “Where WERE you guys? It thought you’d been eaten!” “Oh, no, we were just on the bus with the important people.” *Giggle* “I’m going to miss you guys.” “Me too.” *Hugs*.

While I was at camp I realized that I wasn’t alone. I found out that there are positives in with this dark cloud and that maybe they might even outweigh the negatives. I wasn’t alone any more, I wasn’t lost anymore. I had found a place where I could be the person I was and not the person with Diabetes.  I found a best friend that week, and it was a week that I will never, ever forget. Diabetes camp taught me that I am not alone. That nobody with diabetes is ever alone. I learned that there is a listening ear for everybody, an understanding soul. There are always silver linings even in the darkest of clouds. Diabetes isn’t who I am, and it never will be, but it is a part of me. Camp showed me that I can be okay with that. That everything can – and will – be okay.

P.S. Hey Z! We never got to take out the garbage! :)