Friday, 28 May 2010

Honeymoons and a Little Bit of Magic.

Hello again,

Well, about 5 minutes ago I received a phonecall from my DSN. She was bearing news which to be honest came as more of a confirmation than anything else, kind of finalising everything makes it feel properly real and final. "Laura, just to say that we've just ran the final tests and you're definitely a type 1." She asked me how I felt about it and I didn't really have an answer. I guess it was the news I was expecting so I don't feel any more sad or down about being type one just because it's been confirmed. In fact, I think I actually feel relieved. Relieved that I've finally been given a definite answer. Relieved at the blessings of the more controllable element of type one. And finally, just relieved that I can now hopefully accept it once and for all and move forward and continue to manage it the best I can.

Anyway, moving forward to the topic of today's post; Honeymoons. Apparently, according to differing sources, one medical and another simply the wise words of a friend, I am currently going through two different honeymoon phases. My DSN confirmed at my clinic appointment on Wednesday that I was still experiencing the honeymoon phase of type one; ie, my pancreas is still producing insulin but only small amounts and very erratically. It's a tricky one to actually decide how I really feel about this. I guess there's a small amount of frustration in that I kind of wish it would just hurry up and give in altogether so that I can get on with becoming my own pancreas. It feels like when you're trying to do a job and your little brother or sister is desperately trying to "help" but really their help is so useless that you'd actually do it quicker on your own. Maybe it's time for my pancreas to stop trying to "help" and let me get on with the job in hand. On the flip side though, it doesn't actually bother me. I'm taking tiny amounts of insulin, so maybe the honeymooning pancreas is still doing me some good, and then when its time for it to give up I'll change accordingly. There's no point in getting frustrated with your own body. I'd like to view it as my pancreas trying to make it's last dash attempt at trying to rectify the situation; we've all been there some time in our lives I'm sure. And besides, honeymoon is a lovely word. It almost makes diabetes sound pleasant...

My second, and not quite so scientifically proven, "honeymoon" stage is apparently occuring in my relationship at the moment. One of my wise and wonderful friends does tend to turn into a bit of an agony aunt when drunk, and relationship advice is his forte. 4 months down the line and he reckons we're still honeymooning; lots of kissing and cuddling and all of that lovely stuff that makes your friends want to vomit :P Explaining how I feel about this particular honeymoon stage is very straight forward, basically, I love it. It's fantastically brilliant to actually want to spend so much time with someone and to know that they'll be able to make you feel better about anything and turn any frown upside down.

So, there you go, my two "honeymoon's." One of them I feel indifference towards and the other couldn't make me any happier. When the diabetic honeymooning ends it'll cause some changes and interruptions to my regime but hopefully I'll be able to work it out. And when the relationship honeymoon ends, well, I have every confidence and hope that life beyond the honeymoon will still be as scrumptious as ever. Overall, I feel fairly lucky that I'm not even married and yet I'm already having two honeymoons... although neither of them actually involve me jetting off to a beautifully hot country and staying in a very fancy hotel room. Never mind eh. We can't have everything!

Before I go and carry on with what's promising to be a very boring day I'd just like to share a revelation that I had a few days ago. I figured that, in my life, magic isn't just in Disney films and doesn't always involve rabbits being pulled out of hats. Whenever I get down about the doom and gloomy bits of diabetes, I'd like to think I could remind myself of just how lucky us type ones are that there's a treatment for us to help us manage it and lead our lives. I like to think that twice a day I inject myself with a little bit of magic. My insulin pen is quite literally my lifeline and my magic wand. It's fairly special to think that a few tiny drops of a cloudy liquid keeps me alive and healthy. In fact, it's not just special.

It's magic. ;)

Thankyou for reading.


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