Lucky.

Windows updates when I did not want Windows updates have erased this posts so many times that I wondered why I bothered. It kind of felt like another way Westminster was kicking me in the teeth. I get political. Often. I go out on the beat for my candidate and I do that until my tendinitis is screaming and my fatigue aches. I do it because I believe in what I am doing.

 

There are far too many people in the so called United Kingdom right now in dire need and that goes far beyond any health aid I’ve mentioned before. There are people being told the best that can be done is three months on an air bed in a leisure centre or town tall while the thing most likely to kill them is taken care of. What about all the other checks? What about how being IN those places could kill people.

 

It destroys any other post I thought of putting together. I am safe. I know my doctor is close. I know my animas delivery will come. I am lucky.nintchdbpict0003314061771

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*brushes dust off*

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*dusts place off* Oops? I graduated. I went into that ‘why can’t I get a job everything sucks’ funk’. But then my good friend was writing about Nasty Women and some experiences you get being women such as male doctors trying to explain to women what a vagina looks like and things like that and mentioned me and my endometriosis rambles here. This reminded me not much of any rambling had been happening here. Oops.

 

So, bits of this were written up a while ago  but then I slumped into who cares? Well I care? I like rambling to myself and hey if anyone reads anything here and it helps then cool.

 

What is new? Many things on the medical front and when I think on it more perhaps that is why I have been so quiet. A lot of medication got changed and I feared it not working. Or thinking it did and being proved wrong. Basically I feared looking stupid and that is a great place to start because my anxiety has been a real issue in the past twelve months. Again.

 

I cannot say when it began to creep up on me again. I think many would say I never got to grips with it at all but I certainly noticed a fall off the cliff where the fuck is my parachute change. Ahem. Exams are hard and I was coming up to the end of university. The Big Ones. My dissertation was crap. I knew that. I was ill with pneumonia while asthma I fought for years without knowing I had got worse and worse. I freaked out. I tried. I cried. I did my best. I guess that is all anyone can ask and that includes me of myself.

 

(I’m writing this knowing I’m going to link it to Steph to go LOOK I CAN UPDATE and yet I am anxious. English is her thing, guys. So there is a huge change she will see LOTS OF FAILS in how I write things and that makes me anxious which is ironic because HA. Not that I care overall cause it is Steph so boo bitch)

 

But the fact that I am so anxious at such a thing when I know damn fine she may tut and roll her eyes and think ‘what is this’ while never actually coming after me or hating me or disowning me says a lot. I mean she can’t disown me we’re going to Australia in six months. (Hahahahahahahaha fuck). Who gets tied up in their own chest over the idea that their friend might go ‘that grammar is not right’? Me.  Fail.

 

I said in a last entry moons ago that my Dr changed my medication. Basically it has meant that for  nearly a year I had no medication that helped me with my anxiety itself. I had medication that helped me with depression and if I am  honest it did a pretty shit job. If I am even more honest I stuck with it for as long as I did because a, it is what my mum uses and I thought if she can hope on it I should be able to (what?!),  b, it did so shit with my depression too that going to ask for something else seemed too hard.

 

For the last couple of months I have been on a new pill to aid my depression and anxiety and I think it works? I’m unemployed so anxiety and depression levels are relative at this point I think but at the end of being on fluoxitine alone I was having panic attacks nearly every day. Several times a day. I’d phone friends and I doubt I made sense. I tried to talk and open up but I didn’t know what I needed or wanted to talk about? I just needed them and that…doesn’t work over phone lines.

 

I take a pill every day to try stop migraines which it does until it doesn’t. Now when I get migraines they are far more like the symptoms you hear on the tv and read in books. Before I felt dizzy and banged into things and got tired and a million other things. Now I just …hurt. And I can’t be in supermarkets because their fridges and freezers make me want to claw out my own brain with the nearest blunt object which in most cases is probably a garden trowel.

 

Still I take anti depressants to make me sleep knowing that isn’t right but neither is not sleeping. If the pill that keeps you human is the one that makes you a zombie do you take it or neither or both and hope?

 

I joke I am the walking dead but I feel it. Setraline to stay sane. Trazadone to sleep. Levothyroxine to get up in the morning. Then that tiny white add on to stop my brain erupting within itself.  I didn’t update for ages because it would become like this. I blink and I can HEAR the image right itself across my vision. Across my brain somehow.

 

Yet  I did not start this over that…but I did not start this months ago because it would BECOME that. Odd world.

 

Endometriosis. You auld cunt. My implant went into my womb on the 14th April 2015. I’m the only one counting but I actually found the card today while looking for something else so huh. There you go. In theory that should mean that until the little coil needs removed I should have no issues. I already have issues though. 1: The writers of the card has turned the 2 into a 0 so the date it expires now reads 2020 when it would run out if used as a contraceptive this completely invalidating my agency as an asexual woman stating it will not be needed as a contraceptive and so it CAN remain in place until 2022. 2: Nothing stops Endometriosis the way it says it will.

 

I still feel cysts pop. Mini ones. The Drs know they are there but have no proof as they grow up and pop so quickly. I feel like a mad science experiment at all times. It is so demoralising as well because  I guess at least with periods a person can have a general idea of when the pain will stop. Or at least when it will fade into that achy discomfort. Now when my endometriosis flares it can last for days and there is no comfort of  ‘well by X I should start to feel Y’. The good thing about the community of people with this illness is that we band together. I am not strong enough right now to demand change to our treatment and more agency when pushing for treatment such as hysterectomies. Others are though and so that for me. Just like I did more before. When I am stronger in myself again I will take some of the weight back.

 

All spoonie circles are like that though. People think ‘community’ is just sitting there complaining about what hurts and why and sure we do that. We commiserate with each other but we also work together to better our situations whether that is sharing tricks to cope better or pushing initiations to make changes to better all of our lives.

 

 

So I guess this is a ‘hey i’m back’ and we will see how that goes. One day at a time.

be you

i’ve a million things to say and lots of word docs on the way to saying it but this week has just exploded with friends saying things and family and the media and all about how to find your way and stuff.

 

Be you.

 

Don’t apologise for being you.

 

Love you.

 

 

 

of gp changes and referrals

I booked a Doctor’s appointment for last Friday there and I wrote notes that took up an A4 page before I even stepped over the door. Now, my GP took months off last year and returned on a two day week pattern. It has been horrendous. My GP has been great for most of my life and he is very popular. Many people go to him despite him not being their GP. Like my mother! This means getting an appointment for him took weeks in advance before he reduced his hours. Now you can pretty much forget it. So when I walked into the surgery two weeks ago and asked for an appointment I declared I would take anyone who had an appoint in the afternoon of X Friday. I got a GP I have maybe seen three times in the last ten years?

 

What a world shift.

 

She was early! WOW! She got straight to the point. I received a new contour usb meter from diabetes.org so I was thrilled! I took along the relevant prescription changes and she got that done for me. (My reaction to this meter is another blog post in the words).

 

Then I brought up something that has been bothering me for months. I have tendonitis on the sole of my right foot because when I was thirteen I tripped over my CAT and landed on a nail that holds our elevated stereo speakers in place. As my luck would have it I managed to land in a way that put said nail straight through the middle of the tendon that runs up the centre of the foot. It was agony and I hobbled for months. It was a few years of ‘straining it’ that I returned to the Dr to be told it was tendonitis. Make sure all your shoes have a solid sole. That was my info!

 

Well, over the past few years I’ve noticed a similar pain in my left foot near my ankle tendons and wow did I deny it. My parents hate the notion of me getting more things diagnosed. Sometimes I think they believe I’m a  hypochondriac but I’m not, I’m just very unlucky and my hormone system is screwed across the board. As is common if one aspect of it goes wrong. Anyway,  it was getting worse and worse so I said I would talk to the Dr about it and what do you know, everything seized up on my way down. By the time I reached the surgery I could not bend my foot at between my leg and actual foot and I was hobbling in agony.

 

So the Dr got a good look and it took her 30 seconds to decided my trying to take pressure off one tendon had caused the other to give up. I’m not being referred to a food specialist for  them to more clearly assess the damage and tell me what I’m allowed to walk in.  I think my little dolly shoes are destined for the bin. Sob.

 

I then brought up labrynthitis. Most people get it and have no symptoms after 3 weeks. Some get reoccurring bouts of it. I am now constantly dizzy and with a sore head and nausea. I should have had a hearing test after I first got the virus and then been referred to a specialist at an Ear Nose and Throat clinic after my symptoms persisted. No one picked up on this! It was only with the help of another person who has had it that I learned more could be done. So I got a referral for that out of her too.

 

I’m struggling with sleeping right now (because citalopram wakes you up) and depression. She sort of blew up. I take 40mg of citalopram every night  and have for a few years. Apparently no one should be on such a dose for such a time. It is not healthy and could be the reason I have so many headaches. So she has increased my dose of trazadone (sleeping like a baby :D) that helps me sleep and is weaning me of off citalopram so the side effects don’t continue to bother me and I can get a proper antidepressant. Citalopram is very generic and treats both anxiety and depression. She says if anything she would rather medicate each illness alone than do this one pill approach.  I have to phone her any time I’m struggling to wean. I am four days in and fine though. I alternate 40 and 20 for a week and then it is 20 and 10 and me getting very frustrated trying to crack the buggers in half because she prescribed me another back of 20s and no 10s. Sob.

 

My family continue to insist I should get off meds altogether. They fail to think that I struggle with them so how on earth would I cope with nothing? Some people need meds. Get over it. For the ‘well we didn’t have them X’. Yeah and a lot more people were locked away or killed or hurt themselves.

review; branded by the pink triangle

 

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Branded by the Pink Triangle
by Ken Setterington

A review of the book detailing the gay community within the concentration camps. today, cause no one else will talk about them

<i>Before the rise of the Nazi party, Germany, especially Berlin, was one of the most tolerant places for homosexuals in the world. Activists, including Thomas Mann and Albert Einstein, campaigned openly for the rights of gay men and women, and tried to repeal the old existing law against homosexuality. But all that would change when the Nazis came to power and existence for gay people turned into one of fear. Raids, arrests, prison sentences and expulsions became the daily reality. When the concentration camps were built, homosexuals were imprisoned along with Jews and any other groups the Nazis wanted to suppress.</i>

I read this book last year and I read it very quickly because I simply could not put it down. This book deals with the treatment of gay individuals during the second world war within Germany. This sort of thing has been lost to history because in figures those detained for being homosexual were nowhere near the number of Jews systematically murdered. We are conditioned to think of the holocaust as simply the murder of Jews but that is simply wrong. The holocaust was a mass attempt at genocide against anyone that Hitler and his followers did not deem worthy of life. That included travellers, Jews, homosexuals, communists, political activists, anyone deemed too religious, eastern Europeans deemed less worthy, non-aryans…ie most people. To make the holocaust simply about Jews does a disservice to its other victims of which there were many, hundreds of thousands, if not millions. These victims were the ones that simply didn’t appear on records. We can only guess.

I decided to write this on holocaust memorial day mostly because it reminded me that I had read this book. Then I thought of how most of the documentaries and commentaries will focus on the main group impacted in the Jewish population. I was also outraged that any documentaries talking about it will not appear until late tonight. That strikes me as wrong.

I have a genuine fascination with the Weimar Republic aka the time in Germany before Hitler came to power. They had the most democratic constitution in the world and yet still succumbed to Nazism. I think anyone can see how that alone could be fascinating. But they also had a vibrant society that was so liberal before the Great Depression. Berlin was a hub of accepting people who hung out at clubs and cafes and could be open with sexuality.

I loved reading the memories of that and getting a first person point of view of just how that happened. Berlin was seen as the hotspot of Europe for people just wanting to be themselves and yet it became their prison. Even within the camps they were treated as less than others. Homophobia created a hierarchy of prisoners. No one wants to talk about that though. No one wants to think that maybe the Jews in the camps did something wrong. Stories from others out of the camps show it was a dog eat dog world or perhaps more importantly one dog eats and the other starves.

Not all victims were equal. People did not just forget their upbringing or politics when within the camp. And as the book says gays or those accused of being so were branded by the pink triangle. It is a humanizing piece. Those put into camps with that triangle have never received a pay off. Most of the time they are never even acknowledged. For the most part it is like they do not even exist.

And that is why I take this day to talk about them. Because today will talk about everyone else.

 

and a happy new year

Harry New Year!

 

Now back to diabetic business. I stopped that diet I mentioned a few posts ago. It seems cutting out most bread, crisps, biscuits and so on is not all that great for me. I was going hypo left right and centre with no patterns to speak off. I culled insulin. I hovered over my results and did extra tests but continued to drop, drop and drop some more. I need my carbs. It just seems to be what my body prefers. Basals would remain perfect one day and without any change at all send me into horrendous hypos the next. I dropped so low once during the night that when I ‘came to’ out of my daze I was surrounded by a half empty packet of biscuits a sweet drink and was mindlessly munching my way through a long buried packet of crisps. I have not been that bad in years.

 

So I stepped away from the diet, started having two pieces of toast in the morning  and generally eased up on things. The hypos stopped. Whether I ate the biscuit in the afternoon or I didn’t the hypos stopped. I don’t totally understand why but I’m glad things are better now.

 

It does show though that certain diets don’t mix with certain conditions. Sometimes being bigger is better it seems. Overall I still think my diabetes will be better if I can shift a stone or so but this has really shown me that that is secondary. I mean I knew that before but I always had it in my mind that if I put effort into a diet, I’d lose weight and my diabetes would be grand and yay~ Well not so.

 

My sugars were great over Christmas…where I ate, you know, everything in site. Carb counted like a boss which I was proud of myself for! I do need to work on my pump though because I would rise a bit before I dropped again and I’d rather get that steady line so many seemed to have perfected. Doctors think it is just something my body does. It frustrates my nurse to no end.  My nurse deserves a better diabetic than me given how new she is to nursing. She deserves diabetics whose bodies follow the textbooks not mine which prances along ripping the pages out.

 

I’m going to need to order new pump supplies a fortnight early because of all my eating lol Though I am thinking of changing to the site meant for more athletic people, the one that goes into the skin at an angle for my animas vibe. Frankly too many of my other sites are failing. It was a concern enough that I had to go demonstrate to my nurse that I was putting them in right which was really <i>really</i> humiliating.  I’m clearly a wriggling worm in my bed. I seem to damage the inserts overnight at least one a fortnight where I crack the plastic. It isn’t like I’m a size 26 and putting a lot of weight on them or anything. I just…I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t help that I have an orthopaedic really hard mattress. But surely if the athletic one can handle falling down a mountain skiing then it can handle me?

 

In general though they are just not taking. It has got to the point where I know upon impact if it took or not. I always wait to see the confirmation but I’m right basically 100% of the time. I need to feel a pinch. If I hear the click and feel a hit but no pinch…I know it never pierced the skin. I should  not have to live like that though, assessing my pain threshold to see if a set took.  It should just take! When I didn’t have my pump I missed it like hell. It felt like being back in time but I also miss the safety of mdi. Very rarely did an injection fail. Pumps leave you wondering if you are ok or steamrolling towards DKA every few days and it is that serious for me. I riseSO quickly it is scary.  And of course a pump never needs replaced at a convenient time when you don’t need to eat or when there is no carb free version. I’ve seen me get anxious at uni and have to up my basal and the result us I need to change my set when I also need to eat and there is no carb free option and no time to go get one so I bolus and change and hope.  In those situations I want to have more faith in my set.

 

I used to be horrified at the idea of a sort of permanent implant, something that always connected to your pump and was inserted in a way that the body could not properly eject it. I’m not saying a transplant but those early ideas of a pump that you could disconnected but that the connection space was always there. People freaked out and cried android. I wouldn’t mind it. I’m going to be connected to it 24/7 anyway. My days off it last year, due to a fault, showed me I can never go back to MDI so…why not? It would remove so much stress if all I had to do was get a cartage full and make sure insulin came out the end before sticking that in a hole.

 

Times change people.  I have learned that too. I am no longer so set in my beliefs. Maybe that is what growing up is. The doctors only know the most recent finds. Question them at all times! I would be in a whole world of terrible if I listened to them as a child. They didn’t know kids could be different and then turn out ok. They do now. Great.

 

Over the break the diabetic online community could be heart-warming and heartbreaking. Some went through the whole time with bloods sitting between 5 and 6 and I admit, I seethed. Getting no rise after a meal? I’d love that but it just doesn’t seem to happen for me. But then I had people like @grumpy_pumper not saying numbers as such but boldly stating he was carbing up and having fun and I needed that.

 

I found my own way over Christmas and I’m still finding it now. I still want to lose weight but I’m doing it a different way from others in my home and I think it will come slow this time and that is ok. D first. Scales later.