Reflecting on…


I am an emotional yoyo at the moment.

I did get excited when the roses were delivered, and I potted them on as they await their permanent homes in the back yard.  There’ll be a row of purple through pink along the back eastern fence, including Reine des Violettes, Bewitched, Silver Lining and Joyfulness.  I selected the latter three to contribute to the card deck project, which has frankly languished since I was diagnosed, and since winter.

on the other hand, I’m still not coping with all the diabetes issues.  Readings that don’t make sense, in particular.  I have to go to Sydney to see an endocrinologist, because the wait time here is six months.  So I’m having to take time off from the new job, about which I am already having nightmares.  I joined an online forum thinking that would make me feel better, but I’m finding them quite blunt and hard core.  Maybe they went through where I’m at, but they seem to have forgotten.

so thank goodness for the lovely friend I lunched with the other day, she blurted to me, I blurted to her, and we both came away feeling better. The value of a true friend is the one you can say what you really mean to and they don’t flinch.  Or try to cheer you up, or remind you that it could be worse.  A true friend will witness your feelings and not try to change them.  Blessings on you H.



Only a few days ago I felt full of anticipation for spring and a turn in fortunes.  Not so.  I got my test results.

Not even the prospect of my rose order being delivered this week is cutting through my gloom, and that’s saying something.  Roses are magic to me, usually able to cut through anything that is troubling me.

My doctor couldnt answer any of my questions about my strange post meal readings.  Or explain why my morning levels refuse to drop, or why the insulin resistance reading is climbing.  The only good part of the test results was the HbA1c, which dropped marginally and remains well under the safe zone.  But it’s the only thing which is safe.  But nor do I have an explanation as to why, if my three month average drops, does the insulin resistance go up?

I feel quite despairing.  Does anything i do make a difference?  I am reminded of all the medical studies I’ve read where it’s something like this. X% of subjects following the experimental diet/exercise/drug (cross out whatever is not applicable) reported improvements in glucose management.  Of course that means that Y% didn’t improve, and some of those may have gotten worse.  Perhaps I’m the y%….

Bare legs and garden beds


Guess what?  My legs are BARE!!!!!!!

That can only mean one thing.  The first hopeful signs of spring.  And what a long wait it has felt like.  The longer I stay in Canberra the more I grow to hate the winter.  When I first arrived, fresh out of one Perth’s interminable heatwaves, I was excited to be cold.  Not so now.  Now I am looking for a happy climatic medium.  But I digress…

Spring is nearly here.  They are fencing off Commonwealth Park in preparation for Floriade.  The roses at OPH are budding furiously, as are my own.  I gave mine a preventative spray with an organic fungicide this week.  My daffodils are perhaps a week off blooming.

I’ve been digging and rejuvenating an old bed out the back, in preparation for the new roses which should arrive very soon, and the start of a permanent picking garden.  I bought carnations, stocks, and larkspur to plant this afternoon.  I’ve never grown larkspur before and I’m excited.

I’m also going to make a much more solid effort to grow food too.  After reading some more about diabetes this week, I realised that organics cant hurt my health anymore that it already has been.  Then I saw the cost of the snowpeas at the organic shop and realised that it could have a substantial hurt to my wallet.  Hence, the decision to grow more of my own.  I’m going to start with spring onions, and carrots, and wait for a little while longer before I sow more frost tender offerings like lettuce and snow peas.  It’s still August, and winter usually still has some sting in her.

Meanwhile, the exercise wont do me any harm either.  And gardening is a lot cheaper than therapy.  Lets see if plants and planting can save my sanity, and what’s left of my pancreas.


The confused diabetic, cont’d


You know you are in serious trouble when you’ve cried everyday for the past week.  It may not be great floods of salt, but more than enough to make the eyeballs sting.

When I get like this, it doesn’t take much for the slightest thing to make me feel volcanic.  This morning it was because the bus stop outside pathology had been shut because of roadworks.   I feel like I need to have a massive warning sign on my aura:  Wide berth necessary.  Emotional contamination alert.

I was already quite charged when I got to work and had to do my second test.  I’m doing more focused testing to fine tune food choices, and what I mean by that is trying to eliminate foods which give a post meal spike over 8. This is what the American Association of Endocrinology recommends.  Here’s the bad news.  Nothing I have eaten makes this standard.

But there’s worse….

I’ve been doing variations of the same meal because I wanted to isolate out the influence of certain foods.  Yesterday I started with a breakfast experiment.  I had eggs, half an avocado and two slices of Helga’s lower carb toast.  The spike was at two hours, and came in at 8.8.  Today I had the same minus the toast.  It spiked at one hour, and HIGHER!!!!!!!!  It was 9.3.

This goes against everything I have read about diabetes.  Summarised, that was if you avoid starchy carbs your numbers will be lower.

I think I’ll be spending a fair amount of time today in the toilets, mopping up tears of rage, confusion, grief and despair.