101 things in 1001 days.

Ages ago, I attempted to do the challenge of 101 things in 1001 days. This hasn't happened over the past few months for personal reasons (move back to Birmingham, split up from my partner). I'm going to attempt to do it though, and I shall blog them all.

I'm off to write my list!

Perhaps slightly controversial?

Chatting to my mum the other day, she said something that at the time shocked me. Now I think about it, I can see her logic, but I still disagree with it.

My sister was born 3 months before I was diagnosed. My mum said if she had known I was going to be diagnosed, she wouldn't have had another child, as she wouldn't have wanted to take the risk of another child having to live with type 1.

As I said above, I can see the logic behind it - living with type 1 is no fun and noone would wish it upon a kid.

But on the other hand...really? When I have thought about having children, passing on type 1 has never really come into the equation. Should it? I'm not sure. I have never taken it into the equation. When I think about type 1 and pregnancy, I think about the risks associated with a type 1 becoming pregnant, not the risk of passing it on. I know the statistics are pretty low, and increase slightly if the father has type 1 (I don't know the exact statistics).

So for me, I wouldn't forsake having a child because of the risk of type 1. I've never really seen this discussed anywhere, so I'm curious about your feelings on it?

Things I have learnt in the past week.

I was diagnosed at a very young age, which means I can't remember a lot of what I was treated with etc when I was younger. However, I've been asking a lot of questions over the past week or so, and here's what I've learnt.

1) when I was first diagnosed, we had the kind of blood glucose testing kit in which you'd apply a drop of blood and then wipe it off 2 minutes later. I have no memory of this, whatsoever.

2) there's at least 1 other type 1 in my close family; my mum's cousin was diagnosed when he was about 12. My mum is also convinced his daughter is type 1, although my nan isn't so sure. We're not in touch with that side of the family, but I'm going to try and change that.

3) in some ways I had forgotten the times of 'feeding your insulin' (particularly when you're on 2 x daily injections), until I was reminded of having to have snacks mid morning and before bed to stop me going hypo.

4) a particularly horrible hypo I had aged around 4 or 5, in the night. I remember being in bed and being really sweaty and just...yucky. I remember my parents coming in and out of my room to check on me. I think I had lucozade tablets at the time.

5) when I was first diagnosed, my parents needed to know the symptoms of a hypo. So the doctors made me go low on purpose - I suppose you could say it was for educational reasons, but still!

I'm going to get as much information out of my parents as possible. I'd love to compile it all together someday; not a book or anything, but just for my own reference.

Bullseye!

My sister has just reminded me of something my dad used to do when I was younger. Sometimes when he'd give me my injection (which makes me realise this was years ago, I was doing my own injections by age 6 or 7) and say things to mak me laugh - he used to watch darts, so he'd yell things like "Onnnnnne hundred and eighty!" when approaching me with the needle...and he'd pretend to throw the needle in my arm.

Reading back it sounds kind of sadistic, but as a small small child it made me laugh and took the edge off those injections!

Nasty low.

Last night, I had wine and pizza. I had been hypo most of the afternooon (we had walked to see a friend's degree art show, and the walk had turned out to be about twice the distance we'd be told and it was really, really hot). I'd spotted a downward trend before I hit the 3s and had 3 dextrose tablets to bring me up a bit. And...nothing. I stayed in the 3s for what felt like HOURS (was more like 1 - 2 hours) before heading above 4. In all I had roughly half a packet of dextrose, which is way more than I would normally need. Thankyou, heat.

So, post the show, I and a friend went to get pizza and wine to have in his hotel room (which makes me sound really sleazy...he's my best male friend, and gay, for the record!). Knowing I had been low that afternoon and that I was going to have alcohol, I reduced my bolus by 20%.

An hour post-pizza I was 14.4. I didn't correct. I'm not happy with levels like that, but I knew the bolus still had plenty of time to work. Half an hour later, 12.0.

1.38am, 2.3mmol/l. That's 41, for the USers.

It was one of those lows where you wake up DRENCHED in sweat and barely able to lift your head from the pillow. I keep my testing kit and hypo treatment within grabbing distance, so I could stab the straw into the OJ cartoon and drink it whilst still curled up. I waited 15 min, retested and got a 2.9. Still shaking like a leaf and stumbling, I went downstairs where I demolished a slice of my mum's homemade orange and lemon cake (SO DAMN GOOD), a packet of crisps and 2 biscuits. Yeah, too much. I was concerned that I have a habit of dropping anyway overnight, I wanted to have more 'room' to drop.

I woke up on a 12.2, again not wonderfully but I can deal with that after a ridiculous afternoon of hypos and then mega hypo at night. Although all day I've been running on the high side, thinking about it. I'm back down below 10 now, so I'm happy with that.

Now, for some more of that amazing cake...

Me, without the D.

Hi. I'm Siobhan, I'm 22 and I've spent the majority of my life living in Birmingham, England.

As of today, I'm employed! I have a job in the catering department of a private hospital. It's not well paid and it isn't glam, but it's money and a job I think I will enjoy.

Before now, I've done a whole range of stuff. I took a gap year after my A levels and worked in a pub, in a phone shop, and for the kid's activity company PGL. Through PGL, I lived in rural Herefordshire and in Paris, France. After that I went to America - to Alexandria, Virginia, right on the border of Washington DC - to work in a YMCA for the summer. It was fantastic, although the work wasn't great. I loved it.

After that I went to uni, Bath Spa Uni, down in beautiful Bath. I dropped out after my first year - honestly, I wasn't in the right place mentally. I had huge anxiety/mental health issues. I had even planned, and got as far as being accepted on, to go and study abroad in my second year - I would have gone to Joensuu University in Finland! I was studying International Education, I switched from Geography and Education as I decided I wanted to drop Geography.

Since dropping out of uni in 2008, I have: worked on a floating restaurant, worked in a bank (worst job I have ever done, hands down) and worked with adults with learning difficulties. I lived in a biodynamic/anthroposophical community for 6 months; I got eat the crops grown on the garden, the meat that was raised on the farm, I got to help out working on the farm. Our milk and eggs came from the farm, too.

When I'm not working, I'm usually trying to be as active as I can in the D community, reading a book or spending time with my family. I've recently moved back home to Birmingham and I'm hoping to move into my own place (well, I'll be renting somewhere with my dad) in the next few months - just need to save up for the deposit on a flat!

I've just got a job (as I mentioned above) and I'm working on getting fit. I'd like to lose weight but that's not my big aim - my big aim is to drop a dress size and just feel healthier. I am doing it slowly, but the one big thing I really want to start doing is exercising more - I'm contemplating how I can do this. I'm not big on running. I might start doing some long evening walks. I could do with a dog. Anyone want to lend me a dog?

Inspired by Emily...

I took a brick to a MyLife Pura.

Here's the first video (no smashing in the videos) and here is the second.

Result...

Oh happy days...

It's the small things...

...that make you feel better and make you laugh.

This photo is courtesy of my friend Emily, who I met a few weeks ago. She emailed it to me, presumably after a bad d day :p I believe it at some point it was a Contour tester, that has met a hammer or some other implement!

I don't think I've laughed so hard for a very long time when she emailed it to me! Thanks Emily!

Why I fail at basal testing

Today I was determined to do a basal test at some point of the day. Absolutely determined.

What I didn't factor in was how damn hungry I get...so I failed at the 2 basal tests I started today.

If I'm in range when I wake up, I'll do one tomorrow morning, from when I wake at about 8.30 for at least 5 hours, but I'll keep going if I can for as long as I can. I've had pasta this evening, so I'm hoping that will keep me going through tomorrow morning!

If I'm not in range - I'll do one as and when I can. I'd try and get philosophical about it, but it's not really worth it!