A New Perspective

I've had diabetes for 10 1/2 years and have kept up with d-blogs and diabetic literature, and never have I come across an individual who views their diabetes in such a way as Sean Busby, founder of Riding on Insulin and Olympian in training. In this article, Sean describes his relationship with his diabetes:

"I try to think of my diabetes as a best friend, meaning that until a cure is found my diabetes is always going to be there—just like a best friend.  Sure we may have occasional arguments (just like you do with any friend) but no matter where I go, my diabetes is going to keep on sticking to my side.  If I choose to be friendly back, then we will get along much better and I will be able to do whatever I want to do."

I've certainly never thought of my diabetes as a friend, let alone a best friend, and I am not sure I'll ever be able to have that sort of attitude towards it, but I certainly appreciated the sentiment. I've spent the entire 10 1/2 years that I've had diabetes thinking about it as the enemy, as something that has happened to me but not as something that is me, and my is it refreshing to see it portrayed in such a constructive light. 

Diabetic or not, I think everyone can learn from Sean's attitude: if there's something about your life or yourself that you resent or dislike, how liberating is it to make it your own, and to view it in a positive way?    

Voices of Type 1 Diabetes

I came across this article today, Voices of Type 1 Diabetes: Doing My Best Each and Every Day written by the International Diabetes Federation, intended to profile the stories of type 1 diabetics from around the world. I always enjoy reading stories about other type 1 diabetics, but I was particularly taken aback by the story of the 24 year old Indian woman, who's history and attitude toward diabetes has an incredible likeness to my own. In particular:

"I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when I was 12 years old. I was in 7th grade, and before diabetes, I was a happy go-lucky girl. I was active, and did well in school and sports. After my diagnosis, I took my diet very seriously but in truth, I hated the painful injections I was required to take each day. I worked hard on overcoming social fears, keeping appointments with my doctor, checking blood sugars regularly and eating well. Fortunately, when I graduated from university and began working, I understood the importance of informing friends, and office co-workers about my condition, especially about the risk of hypoglycemia and what happens to me during low blood sugar episodes. I dislike pity and my co-workers understood this about my nature and supported me."

I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at 11 years of age, in 6th grade, and was similarly an active, high achiever (for more on my own story, see Why I Aim for Average). It has also taken me a relatively long time (through high school and university) to overcome my own pride when it comes to diabetes, and to more openly inform my colleagues and friends.    

Living with a chronic condition sometimes feel very isolating, and at times it is frustrating to think that nobody quite understands the intricate, and often subtle, daily struggles of living with type 1 diabetes, both physical and emotional. This article was a small reminder that no matter what you're experiencing, and no matter how it makes you feel, you are never alone in your experiences in this big ol' world. 

A Dream Come True

The week after my adventures with Big Hair, Big Science, I received life changing news. It is with so much excitement, anticipation and passion that I am proud to say that I was accepted to medical school in Canada. The program I was accepted to is a three year program, that runs for 12 months of the year (with only about 9 weeks of vacation in total across all three years!), so in three years time I will be an M.D. I still cannot grasp the reality of this incredible life change.

My path towards medicine began at a fairly young age, when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I was very ill when I was diagnosed and spent a few days in the hospital, and throughout my stay I always felt rather comfortable at a hospital, perhaps a strange thing for an eleven year old to feel. It’s not that I loved being there or loved being a newly diagnosed diabetic, but I never felt frightened by the hospital, only curious of the noises and sights and sounds. I did not make a big fuss when administering my first needles, or pricking my finger to test my blood sugars. However it was only after my release from the hospital, when the true sorrows and triumphs of living with a chronic illness began, that I discovered my passion for physiology. When my blood sugars were high or low, I had an immediate physical reaction, and I was always curious to find out exactly what was happening inside my body. On the outside I might be shaking, or sweating or feeling grumpy, but I always wondered what was happening at the cellular level?

It took me awhile to place this interest and curiosity in my diabetes into the context of a possible future profession.  But one morning when I was in grade 11, I had a revelation. I would be a sports medicine doctor. It seemed the perfect profession for me, as it combined by passion for athletics with my interest in physiology and my desire to help others.

When I arrived at university, my determination to pursue medicine wavered. Surrounded by intelligent, wonderful, high-achieving individuals in my program, I questioned my own ability to get in to medical school. Something I grappled with continuously over the four years of my undergraduate degree was the notion of what makes a good physician? Each medical school has a slightly different preference in who is accepted, and it always left me wondering, which was the right preference? And who has the right to decide what qualities make a good physician? I still have yet to answer these questions, but I think perhaps, in the broad and varied field of medicine, there is no single set of qualities that are needed to be a good physician, because the field calls for a variety of people with different ambitions, skills, emotions and backgrounds. Yet my own questions about the medical field left me wondering if it was the right field for me. In my senior years in university, I worked at a health policy hub and received an undergraduate fellowship (which is what landed me in Geneva, interning at the WHO for the summer), and I toyed with the idea of pursuing a career in the field of health policy over medicine. But I realized that the long hours of reading and researching, and the lack of individual, one-on-one human contact with others did not satisfy me. I have not completely abandoned the idea of continuing in the field of health policy in some capacity, but I know that for the time being, studying medicine is exactly what I want to be doing.

It has been exactly a month since I found out I was accepted to medical school, and I am not sure I have really grasped the reality of it. Having a dream come true that I have been wanting and grappling with for years is a surreal experience. I am sure once I am back in Canada and settling into my new place, buying my textbooks and preparing for a challenging and rewarding three years of intense schooling, it’ll feel more real, but for now it is an overwhelming little thought in my head that can elicit happiness, excitement, nervousness, relief and determination, all at once.

Have you ever had a dream come true?

Doctor Syntax: The Doctor's Dream By Artist Thomas Rowlandson, English 1756 - 1827

Hope

I read this article this morning and it absolutely made my day!

Artificial pancreas gives girl a vacation from diabetes:

http://edition.cnn.com/2012/03/04/health/artificial-pancreas/index.html?utm_source=twitterfeed&utm_medium=twitter

HOPE.

Hope for a Cure

Thursday was the International Diabetes Federation’s international Hope for a Cure day. They ran an initiative in which you write HOPE on your hand if you or someone you love has been affected by diabetes.

It was a very difficult day for me. The thing about living with type 1 diabetes is that it is ubiquitous in my life. There’s no break from it, there’s no time when I’m not dealing with it in some form. I’m literally chained to my insulin pump, which is only disconnected when playing sports or swimming, my tester and a juice box follow me everywhere I go and any time my blood sugar is high or low I can physically feel the effects of the disease on my body.

When you live with a disease that is so pervasive in your life, hoping for a cure isn’t something you can do on a daily basis because it will tear you apart. There are no words to describe how much I want- no, need- a cure, and I wouldn’t stay sane if I thought about it all the time. I know any type 1 diabetic reading this right now feels the exact same. But anyone who suffers any sort of life-changing disease knows the feeling. Hope isn’t something that can be felt on a daily basis. Hope is something that is felt when you’re at the end of your rope, when you just cannot deal with the disease anymore and you feel helpless. That’s when you hope for a cure, hope for a second chance at health, because it’s the only emotion that can see you through those really tough times.

Having a Hope for a Cure day brought up all those tough emotions that I associate with hope at a time when I hadn’t been feeling them. As humans, we naturally like to feel we have control over our lives, and I think that’s why I find the helplessness of living with an auto-immune disorder so upsetting. Nothing I can do can change the fact I am a type 1 diabetic, and so, when there’s nothing left that can be done, the only thing in my power left to do is hope.