sweetpea88blog

Staying positive through the challenges of Diabetes

The Fourth Trimester… begins

Since we arrived home from hospital it has been well an experience is all I can say. Learning that me time is no longer for a day but for an hour max… well it helps if you have a partner that understands this otherwise I can see some women never getting any me time. This could be having a bath, reading a book, lying down in a dark room without any interruptions, popping to the shops alone, having your hair done or going to the gym (when you have had your check obviously)…. or whatever you class as self care to keep yourself sane. This is important, I have had lots of meltdowns over the last few weeks, I knew I would it’s not a shock, just well you can’t prepare yourself mentally for something like this. No matter what people say to you!

Arranging to meet up with people is well stressful, I don’t know if it’s any less stressful if you aren’t breast feeding?? As most newborns feed every three hours, by the time you have finished feeding, changed a nappy, got bag ready go you are cutting it fine to the next feed. Then there is the stress of getting your breasts out in front of people… when well you haven’t done this before right!? What do you do? At home people come to visit Bella but I have to go upstairs to go and feed her… not to make it awkward for them, but actually it makes it awkward for me, what do you say, I’m going to feed her now… which basically means I’m going to get my tit out, deal with it. Breast feeding out and about… all I have managed is a walk in the park to end up feeding her once I had got back to the car. I have looked at different breast feeding scarves but well I don’t want to spend 20 quid on something that might not work for us… and going for a walk the amount of times I have felt harassed before I have even got out the door to walk round the block is crazy, having a cry because you feel like you are failing… just keep telling myself this stage won’t last forever? Right?

I love breast feeding my baby like we have a special bond so I would really like to keep it up, I see myself hibernating for six months when summer is here ha! It’s not like we have anything better to do, just hope for nicer warmer days so we can actually get out for a walk!

Another stressful experience is getting your dog used to a new addition to the family, at first caramel ran to her every time she cried or made a funny noise… which is a lot for funny noises anyway. Then sniffing her or trying to get her to play. She has got better over the last couple of weeks and now just wants to play with her toys… another task to overcome! But she now sits under her crib and steals loves from me during the night where we have more time together… poor girl I feel sorry for my furbaby.

Sleep is an interesting thing, people keep telling me I look great and that being a mum obviously suits me… well I have on average five to six hours a night, how can I look fantastic, I feel I look pale but people tell me I have a glow about me… maybe I am being too harsh on myself, as for sleeping in the day I just can’t do it and then getting overtired so when it comes to bed time you actually can’t sleep..l when I say bedtime I obviously have several bed times throughout the night! I have these apps on my phone which tell me where we should be at for this week… I find these hard to figure out as she is six weeks prem and actually hasn’t been doing any of the things it says she should and I don’t understand when she should… I know she is going to be delayed but is it by six weeks as she is here doing things that a baby in a womb wouldn’t be doing… confusing! Then there is the worry of her development, what toys does she need now to help her develop as I said the app tells me to read books with her… she doesn’t focus on me for all that long stupid app and she’s not awake long enough!

Also what makes you a mum? The first time you set eyes on them, the first kiss, the first nappy change, the first time you have to pick a bogie from their nose, breast feeding, bathing, massaging oil into their dry skin, getting shit on from the other side of the room, getting sour sick on you from reflux… the list is endless. All I know is I love my little lady and want her to feel well, loved and secure that she knows we are looking out for her.

It’s amazing all these changes they go through, each day brings something different, I can’t say I love cluster feeds all that much and carpal tunnel is giving me some jip from holding her to feed, which is more awkward now due to sitting her up right with her reflux. But I love watching her develop and kissing her way too much with lots of cuddles. I could almost eat her up!

As for diabetes you can sit in the background where you belong… but you don’t help your erratic behaviour when I already feel tired… hormones don’t help and will only get worse when my first period arrives… oh how I love you!

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The Hospital Stay

After Bella arriving at 2.11 am on fifth November we got taken to transitional care around 6 am. When you think you can now rest think again… unless of course you are lucky enough to have your own room. As little Bella was six weeks early we were told to expect to stay in for three to five days depending on her weight loss.

The following 24 hours after labour were a bit achy, mostly my back felt achy from the back contractions, a little sore from stitches, worrying it was going to sting to go toilet, which it never then eating so many grapes so that when you do finally need to go for a number two it won’t feel like you are passing a brick. All the things you worry about but actually aren’t as bad as they seem. One thing that did concern me was the amount I was bleeding… seriously I have never had a period that heavy as that’s what people kept telling me before… that’s abnormal if you bleed that much with every period surely! I am still bleeding now but like the end of a period and that is four weeks later. I will most likely stop and then have a period. The joys of being a woman…

One thing I wanted to know about and kept asking at my appointments before even 34 weeks was breastfeeding… I have never done this before I didn’t even know how often a baby feeds, why couldn’t someone have talked this through with me instead of saying I will refer you to breast feeding team, which never happened. So learning how to hand express colostrum, the stuff you produce before milk comes In was daunting. I only managed 1 ml on day one but it did double each day until day three when my milk came in, which makes you feel like you have been kicked in the tits and look like Pamela Anderson. Getting your breasts out to lots of different health care professionals when trying to get your baby to latch. What I didn’t realise and why would I, my little girl was jaundice (she was bright red to me) and this was why she wasn’t latching on, she was too tired. I don’t think she spent much time awake the whole time we were in… did I even have a baby? Having to set alarms to feed her. Luckily I knew that my baby would be early being diabetic… just not that early so I had brought formula starter packs with me into hospital so was able to feed her. She never had one low blood sugar yay!

Where I stayed in hospital there was only four beds, not all woman had their babies with them as they were on the neonatal ward. You would have thought people would let you rest… I have never felt so ropy in my life. Day zero was no sleep due to being born early hours, breakfast is at 7:30, ward rounds, drug rounds, cleaning duties all start at 8 am, feeding in between, fitting in a shower, the dads and siblings (usually screaming toddlers) allowed to arrive from 9 am, lunch would be at 12 pm, other visitors arrive from 1 pm, more feeding, dinner at 5 pm.. then waiting for the visitors to go at 8-9 pm so you can rest, getting no rest as then it’s ward round, drug round etc from 9 pm… until 12 am if short staffed which unfortunately was mostly the case. Then the normal things that keep you awake the bright lights on the ceiling, how hot it was on the ward for the babies, other screaming babies, someone arriving during the night c sections are the worst, with beeping machines, people throwing up, medical team, a baby that sounds like a plug hole when trying to breathe and then add in an abusive husband. I found myself standing at the exit to the ward at 2 am crying with insanity. I felt like. I had been put in there to be tortured. It’s no wonder women go mad. With nowhere to go, having to eat your meals at your bed, no day room or TV to break the day up. Long days and nights. I was only in for an eight day stretch.

My little Bella ended up with jaundice and ended up on billibed, luckily next to my bedside. She was well otherwise only lost 3% of her Bodyweight. She is a fighter, she was a good size!

A few emotions I felt odd and cried because I wasn’t pregnant anymore… I was uncomfortable at the end why was I crying about this? It seemed to change outside it got cold and to me felt like I had gone in the summer and come out in the winter. I do have to say I am still hot now with all these unbalanced hormones. I sweat so much at night it’s horrendous. Time went so fast but my head felt odd like baby brain to the extreme, just feel like I have been in a coma and the whole world is going by and I am missing things but I don’t care… I am in my own bubble. I do still get tired now I am home but nothing like when I was In hospital.

The body is an amazing thing how it can grow a tiny human and ping back again in no time. Your belly does look like a deflated balloon for the first day or so though, rather odd trying to rub cream into it. My belly is flatter now but the skin is definitely stretched no marks but feels dry no matter how much cream I rub on it!

I didn’t have any of the hospital staff trying to manage my diabetes and left me to get on with it, most were amazed at my Cellnovo pump, as they had never seen one so small.

I can not fault the staff, from domestics, health care assistants, students, midwives, doctors and other health care professionals they were all truly amazing. Working for the NHS myself I understand how tough it can be when short staffed, not getting a break on your 12 hour shift, having to do the jobs of four people, staying over past your shift to write up notes, I felt sorry for these ladies, they did an amazing job and still they were smiling and joking, even though you can see they were tired and wore out. They still had time to as if you were okay and sometimes I had a wobbly and wasn’t but it was thanks to their help and care my baby was safe and healthy.

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Introducing The Milk Monster

I suppose we had better start from the beginning… always seems like a good place to start!

Labour

As I said in my previous post I went into labour at 34+5 and she arrived at 34+6. On the day of 34+5 I just knew something was off, I had had period type pains, but gentle pains that I could ignore if I kept myself occupied, i finished moving things back into our own bedroom and checked my hospital bag one final time. On the afternoon I had planned to go cinema to watch bad mums at Christmas, which I did, it wasn’t until driving home my belly felt like it had done a summersault that I knew something was going to happen. I did manage to make it home, where the first of my waters luckily went on the loo…

Whilst Gav was in the middle of cooking dinner I told him we needed to go hospital, I don’t think he realised that she was coming, and asked me if I needed my hospital bags… whilst I packed my last diabetes supplies, insulin from the fridge. I never did get to eat any dinner, strangely I didn’t feel like eating meatballs ūüôā

As I was not at term I had to go to triage to be seen… my god what an awful place that is, four plastic chairs with other women clearly in labour most at term, pacing and waiting, it was a full moon and apparently it goes a bit crazy… didn’t see any werewolves though. The only thing separating us from waiting room and triage was a curtain so all you could hear was women crying, monitors with the baby’s heart beat and staff talking about you. At one point within my three hour wait to be seen a woman came in with her husband in his slippers,two children under 4 and a bowl of blood… she didn’t speak English and was quite glad as I didn’t want to know the graphic details of that bowl!

It wasn’t until I informed them that I was getting pains was I then seen, it took three hours from my show for them to increase to the point it felt a bit uncomfortable, there wasn’t any room in triage and luckily I got my own room on the delivery suite…

This is where things get a bit hazy, although I was in hospital from 6:30 pm until 2:11 am it felt like those hours were only one. It felt like I went all so fast! I was hooked up the monitor to check she wasn’t distressed… if anything she was chilled, heart rate great just not moving a great deal, midwife had a good feel to get her moving. But nothing that concerned them as I said heart rate was great.

The doctor examined me at 11 pm to which I was only 2 cm dilated. He told me it could be anything from 12-48 hours until she arrived, he scanned her one more time and her head was engaged. I knew it wouldn’t be that long, I told myself to relax as from my one and only antenatal class the midwife telling us getting stressed will stop your contractions, also pain relief will alter your sensation when needing to push… so I decided to just have paracetamol as I felt a bit hot from the contractions…

I remember looking at the time thinking we will get to the fifth November… number five being my lucky number! So during the next three hours, my waters broke… not sure when or how soon after the doctor came, the contractions made me feel sick, I thought it was because I needed to eat but well trying to eat a ham sandwich was like trying to eat cardboard I just couldn’t. I wasn’t actually sick… I am not really a sickly person and takes a lot for me to be sick… unlike my dad who heaves putting the bins out. I felt lightheaded from the contractions so the only thing that helped was to close my eyes, my waters went sitting on the bed, as I was hooked up I couldn’t move around to ease the pain,it felt like I was sitting in the bath, remember saying oh no they have just gone… panicking if they were clear as for some reason I couldn’t focus to look properly with the pain.

The only thing I could do to get me through the pain was knowing it wasn’t going to last forever, breathing (screaming felt like too much energy, plus I didn’t feel the need to), and tensing my arms with the contractions as I couldn’t move around… bloody monitor! The contractions got worse obviously, I felt these really big contractions where I felt the need to push… this would have been to hours after waters going, I had to do everything to stop myself like clenching your toes together… the midwife checked me over and was very surprised to see the babies head was ready and waiting. She then informed me on my next contraction to push… well my contractions were gentle again in comparison and had now gone to my back… back contractions are useless! I just thought fuck this we need to get you out contractions or no. Pushing a baby out isn’t painful… knowing if they are moving when you are pushing is hard to know… until the head is coming out… that stung a bit! I tried on my back, squatting but the only thing that helped was putting my leg in stirrups.

My little girl came into the world, she screamed on her own, had a beautiful head of black hair, her APGAR was 9 at 1 and 5 minutes, she weighed 2.95 kg and 51 cm in length. She was a really good size for 34+6 but I was pleased she was thriving. She was placed on my chest and I cut the cord… Gav is a bit squeamish! The placenta I couldn’t care less about but had a peek looked erm horrible like a sack and reddy grey. Most importantly her blood sugars were 3.4 mmol… she wasn’t hypo (2.6 mmol is a too low and needs treatment). She stayed on my chest for an hour or so whilst my afterbirth came and I had stitches… that bit was probably worse than pushing a baby out!

I then had four rounds of toast, good old cup of tea and then to have a shower before going to the ward,where we stayed for 8 days.. which I will talk about in another post ūüôā

From a diabetes point of view, Gav monitored my Dexcom whilst I was half aware of my surroundings, my sugars were 7-8 throughout the whole labour and only rose to 13 an hour after and stayed around there.

This is the day after… with zero sleep for over 24 hours. My beautiful baby Bella.

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Third Trimester… (third the one with the hairy…head)

I am having to write this in retrospect as I had planned to write this on maternity leave… but we didn’t get to maternity leave before my daughter arrived!

Things hadn’t started too bad at the beginning of this trimester, blood sugars were pretty much playing ball, baby was growing normally not getting too big I may have had a few more hypos come week 32 but all in all it seemed to be progressing well. I didn’t feel like I was struggling physically until around week 30, my belly just felt like it was very much in the way, of digesting my food, putting my shoes on, having a bath and drenching the whole bathroom trying to get back out, shaving my legs and generally walking about.

I had given up on the gym, with all the heart burn and sugar generally making it feel worse I just couldn’t be bothered to try and battle dextrose and Gaviscon whilst trying to do body pump. Walking was my only exercise but with my little companion caramel, I still managed a 3-4 k walk on days I wasn’t at work… work was stressful enough that I knew I had to rest. Talking of rest when people say to you make sure you get all the sleep you can now… are either plain stupid or looking for a black eye. First of all have you been pregnant, if so then you should know that kind of thing doesn’t happen in your final trimester, waking up every hour, not being able to sleep due to heart burn or the need to sort things out, worrying that your baby hasn’t got any clothes to fit (glad I went and got smaller sizes!)… oh and throw in a couple of hypos to boot it makes for a perfect nights sleep… if anything I sleep better now with having to wake up every three hours to feed a baby!

I finished work at the end of my 33rd week, with two weeks annual leave planned then maternity to start…. well week 34 came, my baby wasn’t really moving as much as she had been, I got the odd stretch from her… I never did get hands and feet as people said you do when you are towards the end I just got bum and spine, but still these movements were very few. On the Tuesday of that week I had to go to day unit for monitoring, her movements were still few on the monitor but I had been getting tightenings… so the midwife said, all I could feel was the odd twinge in my groin. They scanned me as I have type 1 diabetes to check her growth. My little baby had grown to 6 lb 5… she was measuring big for 34 weeks. I felt devastated that my diabetes had harmed my little one. Even though all my HbA1c had been below 6.1% with the last two trimesters being 5.4%. I just couldn’t have done anymore, but I felt guilty.

The following evening I had upset stomach… I knew this was a sign of labour due to start…but as I had had this a few times through my pregnancy so just pushed the worry to one side, on the Thursday I had a bath and had what I would call the “plug” come away… again I pushed this to one side as reading online it can come away weeks before, Friday my bump felt very low and heavy… Saturday I was worried something may be happening, It was if my period was starting…. I finished moving my clothes from babies room to our new bedroom, made sure my hospital bag was packed… then I had planned to go cinema with my friends which I did on evening to watch Bad Mum’s Christmas… only just made it home before I had what I thought was my waters coming away… off to triage we went.

We never did make it to week 35, my beautiful baby girl arrived at 34+6 days…. as for labour I will save that for another post you lucky lucky people ūüėČ

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Second Trimester…. (second the best??)

Well here we are 27 weeks pregnant! When did this happen? The last three months have flew past! I can’t say it has been the easiest but I have been able to enjoy some of it… 

Let’s be honest type 1 diabetes isn’t easy at the best of times, adding in extra stress from work as well as the stress of growing a human it can send you a bit yampy (to non Brummies crazy). From weeks 13-23 blood sugars were still lower than normal and quite frankly easy peasy, my HbA1c came back at 5.4%, I don’t think I have had one that low since I was about 13! The tiredness has been another thing altogether, I wasn’t that tired in the first trimester still going to the gym regularly, but as soon as week 13 came along with headaches, I did wonder what the hell this second trimester bliss people were on about… are you crazy?! Week 19 brought heartburn and that had stayed ever since, I think this baby is going be born with a wig! 

Let’s talk about week 24… well, what the hell happened, blissfully (or rather knackered and stressed) going about my day and bam needing double the amount of insulin for my meals and needing to bolus 45 minutes before acting, quite literally overnight. Now when you have a non hormonal brain you could probably think about this logically, but as I was on the verge of meltdown seeing blood sugars spiking from 5 to 14 and staying there with no matter how many corrections you gave and then crashing big time hours later, worrying about your unborn baby, trying to actually stay awake at your desk, worrying how to stay awake… I mean is that even normal? That I decided enough was enough, after speaking with my DSN she decided that it would be best for both me and baby to take two weeks rest to see if things improve. Well I have to say it did, it took some work but now we are back to hypo city, but I am not stressing so much.

So week 27 let’s see what you are going to bring me by taking me into my third trimester, nesting is trying to start but it’s hard when half of your house is being renovated, the lack of motivation for the gym due to being out of breathe and knackered is in full force, worrying about the most stupid of things, having a meltdown due to there being no cheese for your beans, feeling tired yet going to bed unable to sleep and pints of milk and spoonfuls of gaviscon to ease the never ending heartburn. 

Let’s hope that my sanity stays around for the insulin resistance due in the next three months. Only six working weeks left and can’t I wait to have some calm before the storm! 

Second trimester you have been a good test of my sanity and strength, there have been some awful times but great times seeing my baby grow on ultrasound to seeing my belly kick, punch and move knowing you are safe for now. Love you baby xxxx 

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Lindsay Wilson’s Story

http://blog.cellnovo.com/patient-stories/living-with-type1-diabetes-lindsay-wilson-story?utm_campaign=BL-newsletter-August%202017&utm_medium=email&_hsenc=p2ANqtz-9oGjcl8k5BaQOdzytqcHbXJoHJYSFlAX30bEIbhrBoo1lpXBVq3LQy8sCvLg-RF3TUH-Fh8GVCTMgNrBVeHxatqKyGzQ&_hsmi=55896281&utm_content=55896281&utm_source=hs_email&hsCtaTracking=5db18be3-3324-421c-8610-3c71b62ef2f0%7C1b865455-ba85-46e6-a253-2b025dc22e3a

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First Trimester… (first the worst?)

I write this as I approach my last week of the first Trimester… week 13. I still can’t believe how quick the time has gone. How is it that I wasn’t pregnant but now I am…. I still don’t really feel pregnant. 

I may not have been unwell when it comes to normal pregnancy symptoms… the one week of feeling sick and the last few weeks of smells making me gag, but diabetes has been a whole other ball game.

Your diabetes team tell you, you must have blood sugars between 4-7 crap… yes I understand why but realistically you are going to get highs and lows. Erratic blood sugars, changing most weeks, eat one thing fine for one week and then the next it shoots you up. It can be overwhelming and I may have had one day where I panicked… but that made my blood sugars worse. As long as I’m not having highs and lows all day long I’m not going to try and make myself ill with worry. I can only do my best and who knows why your blood sugars don’t play ball when you have so many factors going on.  Hypos have been a bit of a problem, more so at 4 am, I don’t seem to get that dawn phenomenon right now and meals which are high in fat. Well obviously your digestion slows down to the point that you can’t poo for a couple of days (I do realise this is normal for some people), so having foods that take longer to digest is just going to give you that blood sugar of 2.0 and feel like death, to needing to sleep for the rest of the day. 

Exercise is another thing, the next day I could eat a horse and then some with hypos, so I have had to scale back to amount of exercise I do as well I just feel worse otherwise! I still try to aim to do body pump once a week with lots of dog walks and pregnancy yoga! 

When it comes to what is called a diabetes midwife I feel like am delivering a a teaching session each time on type 1 diabetes, obviously on the board it says gestational diabetes but this is not what I have! So biazzare questions like have you been given a meter… yeah 17 years ago! And are you monitoring your blood sugars… no I thought I would give it a miss now I’m pregnant… are just damn right irritating. Being told there is 2+ glucose in your urine… yeah that would be the bottle of lucozade I drank in the night to save my life from a hypo.  Then being told because I am on Metformin (I am not I have an insulin pump) that I won’t go to 40 weeks…. like please do your homework before talking to me.  Now running over at clinic is a whole new experience, how can someone be running an hour behind when your appointment is at 9:30… to just then be told you now need to start taking aspirin aahhhh. 

Obviously pregnancy hormones makes me think everyone is stupid and I have little patience but honestly the things these midwives come out with around diabetes! I will be glad to see my diabetes specialist nurse who goes to the maternity clinic… like someone please talk sense! 

The last three months have been strange, getting used to my changing body, some things embarrassing (glad for things like Google and netmums), where you wouldn’t dream of asking anyone if they had them too! Also with my dad in mental health hospital it has felt strange to feel excited or happy and obviously being diabetic there are so many things that could go wrong (one being retinopathy which I have again) I’m just enjoying the experience for now and see what happens… not enjoying strange reactions from people, people touching my belly, a weird bloated belly, strange dreams, jeans too tight, tshirts too short, hypos, sugar, extremely hot feet and getting out of breathe easier! 

Let’s hope the next trimester brings some interesting conversations with health care professional (joke), healthy scans and a healthy mum and maybe my dad well enough to come home. It’s been lovely sharing this news with my dad, you can see he is excited I just wish he would get better.. fingers crossed for ECT! 

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Identity 

Who am I? What is my purpose? Do I need a purpose? Simply existing is quite frankly boring. But is feeling bored what I am actually feeling, or is it loneliness or the feeling of I don’t belong, or that I am a lost and unsure where to place myself. 

Feeling empty is a good way to describe this boredom I am feeling, not to be confused with depression but I could quite easily send myself insane feeling this way. I feel I have spent the last year worrying, stressed and exhausted that now its calmer (it’s really not calmer from my Dad point of view), that I’m a little bit lost. I don’t want drama in my life, I just need well some fun. But if I’m honest I feel like I don’t know how. I can’t even enjoy reading a book… where are you Lindsay?!

Identity is a funny thing, we all give ourselves labels, but do we really only have one label. I have lived nearly 29 years being a daughter, in the last 7 years being a partner. These are very different roles. But when a crisis happens within the family and the whole dynamics change you then become an advocate, councillor a friend or even a parent. My family is no longer like anyone else’s, I can’t go to my dad for advice like I would have done all those previous years, I can’t even ask my dad if my outfit looks nice as he used to give me he best compliments when I didn’t feel that great, just yes and no answers, he is more lost than me on a downward spiral weighing only 7 st 8, he is at risk of severe organ failure and still the mental health team want to discharge him…. think they have the rose tinted glasses on utter morons! 

Whilst all of this is going on I am trying to become a Mother myself… that is easier said than done. Months of planning to get yourself preconception ready from a diabetes point of view, plenty of sleepless nights whilst trying to sort out basal rates, getting it wrong or just simply what the hell!? Moving onto the try to conceive time… the hateful time of you can’t do this and trying to make sure your blood sugars are in target as the “just in case” the “two week wait”, checking if you are actually ovulating (possibly not), whilst worrying about previous surgery and other previous ‘things’ that I need a new focus in my life as all this planning and trying to keep yourself in target for nothing to happen… drives you a bit mad. I want cake and not to worry about said cake after eating it… unless I cause myself a hypo then I could eat more cake…. 

I just need to be Lindsay, no label with preconceived idea that I should act in a certain way. I have a huge gap in my life and I need to learn how to enjoy being just me. My sense of adventure has gone, I feel old before my time, I need to laugh until tears run down my face, as much as I love my caramel (dog) I need human contact. Gav working every other weekend, my Mum works every weekend, my dad in a nut house… I need a new hobby as at the moment my hobby feels like diabetes haha… seriously get a life! 

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Finding Balance…. Again

I regularly find myself back in the world of feeling overwhelmed.  Whether that be from diabetes, work life balance or putting unnecessary goals in my head. 

What’s going wrong… well where do I start, we are very good at listing the things that aren’t so good in our life. My dad has been sectioned under a section two and doesn’t look likely he will be coming home next week, he would have been in for twenty eight days at this point and he really is not getting any better, still very low in mood, not doing any self care including emptying his ileostomy and rather be in favour of letting the bag burst and we’ll be covered in shit…. he has days where he refuses all medication and is very verbal with his anxiety which could look like to some schizophrenia. This has been coming on for a long time. But being male and also my dad, he did not wish to seem weak or a burden. Unfortunately things got too out of control and he needed specialist help, which in fact took much longer than necessary due to the “no beds….welcome to the NHS.  So this is an ongoing stressor that I have no idea when is likely to get better, he is in a mental hospital which is not particularly close… which brings me on to my next topic time management.

Managing time, how exactly are we meant to do this? Get hold of Bernard’s Watch and stop time just so I can fit in having a shower, before rushing out the door to the other side of the city to visit my nutty dad, who sometimes would rather spend his time walking down the corridor than speaking to me. Am I sounding like the victim, this is really not what I’m trying to do, I don’t want no one to feel sorry for me, I’m just being realistic. 

Now some people are like super human and can seem to fit everything in and still have energy for more… but seriously working full time and managing type 1 diabetes is bloody hard work.  How do people do it, I look at people when they say to me, but it’s okay for you, your blood sugars are great, it’s easy for you…. what the hell? Sorry do you have a different type of type 1 diabetes to me? I make what look easy exactly? Breathing? It’s something my body does without thinking…. unlike my pancreas?? Maybe on the outside I look the picture of health, but what good looking good on the outside is, if on the inside you are in turmoil on the same broken record “I need to walk the dog, I need to do yoga, yoga makes me feel good, I need to go to the gym, I need to look strong, I need to be like Wonder Woman, I am Wonder Woman (maybe a step too far)… I must set my alarm for 6am, that gives me 30 min walk with the dog, but then I need to prebolus 20 mins before breakfast, should I set my alarm for 5:30″… when that alarm goes off I never get out the bed to walk the dog, I then beat myself up all day and promise to try and again tomorrow. I promise myself to do more yoga, I promise myself to do mindfulness… all these promises are ones I can’t keep. I let myself down over and over again. All this anxiety makes me feel exhausted, end up mismanaging the diabetes and hypo central is my world.

Looking for guidance on how to find this balance of life I look on Instagram, twitter, Facebook…. but it actually makes me feel more depressed. I wear a Fitbit monitoring my every move, I beat myself up that I haven’t done enough steps as others, which is madness reaching 10,000 steps in a day should be a big pat on the back. All these things are toxic to me. But yet I keep doing them. When I do get time to watch telly or read a book, I just end up sitting and thinking. Forever thinking and never listening to myself. I know there is no off button but sometimes I really wish I could sit back and observe myself. 

This week I have taken the time to sort my basal rates and actually it’s made me feel calmer as I am taking control of my life and not putting it off for another day. To add to all these stressors my poor caramel (the dog that never gets her morning walk) ended up in hospital last night due to a seizure that lasted a very long time, she needed to be kept in and started on antiepileptic medication.  

Who knows the right balance, of what to eat, what exercise is the best. But looking good in the outside does not always make you happy. 

Namaste 

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Merry Shitmas

It’s not that I don’t like Christmas, I do love family get togethers, as family means a lot to me… expect my family who I can count on is going through a thought patch…. a very tough patch.  This Christmas has been very difficult. In fact the whole lead up to it has been so very difficult. I see other families having a lovely time, may be wearing my rose tinted glasses and think to myself, what happened to my family. It makes me feel very sad. I wish I could run away from it all. Or just wish it didn’t happen to be Christmas. 

You see I have blogged about this in previous posts, the black dog. But what happens when you don’t contain the black dog and it takes such a hold of you in a way that you become every you despise in people. This is my dad. He has become every he despises in people. This would be why he is a loner. He doesn’t have friends, never has done or well, he has never had any since I’ve been around (28.5 years to be precise). It’s quite a sad existence. If you have no social network, no worklife, no hobbies and your life changes completely for the worse you looking at a very sad state of affairs. 

My dad is no longer the man I know. I am not sure where he has gone, I feel like there are glimpses of him every now and then, but mostly he is this stranger. A stranger who can’t understand why he has become like this. To me is is plain to see. Expecting to die from a life saving operation, surviving the operation and then left with a life changing condition that you cannot come to terms with, them letting it take over your life, letting it consume you so much that you literally loose your mind. My dad likes to spend his days pacing around the house, swearing and talking loudly to himself for hours on end, both paranoid and delusional. He has now in the last couple of days refused to eat, drink or take any medication. He is basically giving up on life. He sees no way out. So he has been sectioned… that is for another post another day maybe.

This is a hard time, my anxiety levels are through the roof, impending doom is coming. The unknown, worrying about all stupid things. Trying to make sure I rest as when I go back to work next week I’m going to be exhausted. Trying to fit working full time, visiting a crazy dad in hospital, looking after my mum, worrying about my mum. I’m not sure who is worrying about me. That’s selfish but I’m scared and unsure where I should be or what I should be doing. I need to save some of me for me otherwise I’m going to end up with the black dog too. 

So I would like to wish you all a very merry shitmas… can’t say much about happy new year… 2016 you sucked 

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