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It’s day two of the eighth annual #DBlogWeek, created by Karen from Bittersweet Diabetes. This is the sixth year I’ve taken part and it’s a great opportunity to not only write about some truly interesting topics, but also a chance to read some blogs you may not otherwise.  Make sure you check out the list for today’s posts here.

Today’s prompt: Insulin and other diabetes medications and supplies can be costly.  In the US, insurance status and age (as in Medicare eligibility) can impact both the cost and coverage.  So today, let’s discuss how cost impacts our diabetes care.  Do you have advice to share?  For those outside the US, is cost a concern?  Are there other factors such as accessibility or education that cause barriers to your diabetes care?  

Diabetes is an expensive condition with which to coexist. Every now and then, I tally my annual diabetes expenses, at which point, the reason for my frequent flyer status at the pharmacy becomes more than apparent. Between insulin, insulin pump consumables and blood glucose strips, it doesn’t take long for the costs to add up.

Then I add the fees to see diabetes-related HCPs. I choose to see all my HCPs privately, so there is a gap (out of pocket) cost for all these appointments. Fortunately, pathology is bulk-billed, so I don’t pay to have my A1c checked or for any other blood work.

Private health insurance (PHI) is a significant cost each year. We pay about $450 per month to cover the whole family for top hospital and extras cover. PHI means that every four years, the full cost of my insulin pump replacement is covered, and it also means a choice of doctors if we’re in hospital, subsidised stays at a private hospital, and we claim optical, dental and orthodontic each year, plus other things as well.

I wear CGM every day of the year, which adds about $4,000 per year to the tally.

It’s a lot of money. Without factoring in incidentals such as hypo treatments and other things that just seem to come up, my out-of-pocket expenses for diabetes (excluding health insurance) would be about $6,500 per year.

And yet, I feel oddly fortunate, because there are few surprises – or changes – each year when it comes to my medical expenses. I know how it will all play out in the family budget each year.

I know the prices that I pay for all my diabetes expenses are pretty much set, and that means I can plan for them.

I know that every time I walk into the pharmacy to fill an insulin prescription, I will hand over $38.80 for five 10ml vials of insulin. We are never at the mercy of Big Pharma’s arbitrary price hikes. (Last week’s announcement from Lilly of a 7.8 per cent increase on the cost of Humalog – after years of substantial increases – has left me reeling and astonished at how my American friends can afford to just survive with diabetes, let alone live or thrive…)

I know that my diabetes consumables will be the same price every time I order them thanks to the NDSS. The National Diabetes Services Scheme (NDSS) is celebrating 30 years this year – that’s 30 years of subsidised diabetes supplies for all people living with diabetes.

I know how much my doctor will charge me and I know the Medicare rebate. And I know that if I was unable to afford to see my doctors at their private offices, I’d have access to the free diabetes clinic at the tertiary hospital less than 10 minutes from my home, and a bulk billing GP of my choice.

I know that if I couldn’t afford private health insurance, my ability to buy insulin, diabetes supplies or see healthcare professionals would not be affected.

I know that there is no time that I will need to ration insulin doses. I know there will be no time that I cannot afford to see a doctor. I know my pharmacy will always be able to provide me with the supplies I need to live with diabetes and drive the devices I use to manage as best I can. I know I am not really limited by maximum rebate amounts or that if I need more BGL strips, I can get them.

And I also know – and acknowledge – the privilege that allows me to afford health insurance that pays for my insulin pump, and to self-fund CGM, and to see the endocrinologist of my choice privately.

I know there are many other Australians with diabetes who are not as fortunate.

The outcomes for Indigenous Australians are worse – far worse. Poorer Australians have poorer health outcomes. People living in remote areas often struggle to access decent, timely and appropriate healthcare. Australians from CALD backgrounds may not understand a new diagnosis or the treatment being prescribed which affects how they manage their health.

Our system here in Australia is not perfect and we should be continually striving to do better. But it is certainly better than in a lot of other places. The thing about diabetes is that, as many of us wrote yesterday, we are wrangling a health condition that likes surprising us. We often feel we are fighting our own bodies. We shouldn’t need to fight to afford our care – and our health – as well.

The cards that cover my diabetes – and other health – needs. (Oh – and a credit card for all the out-of-pocket expenses…)

Brutal. That’s the way I’ve been describing my week. It’s been super busy and there is no hint that will change any time soon.

But there is so much stuff out there to read. Here’s just some of it…

CGM

Oh, did you hear? CGM is now funded for children and young people under the age of 21 who meet eligibility criteria. It’s been ALL OVER the interwebs, but for the most up-to-date info, go here!

(And yes, I know, people 21 and over need CGM and need support. This isn’t over yet…!)

A psychologist who knows diabetes? Yep!

A good psychologist is worth their weight in gold. A good psychologist who understands the impact of living with diabetes on our overall wellbeing is like a unicorn – rare and magical.

So, I was delighted when someone from my office who has been a Research Fellow with the ACBRD for a number of years came to tell me that she is starting a private psychology practice. Dr Adriana Ventura’s research has focused on the psychological, social and behavioural aspects of living with type 1 and type 2 diabetes.

Adriana understands that living with diabetes (and other chronic health conditions) can be challenging. And she understands that these challenges can make it tough to take care of our health the way we would like.

Details about Adriana’s practice can be found here. (Adriana works with adults and older adolescents – 16 years and over)

Really? REALLY?

Seems that we’ve all been doing diabetes wrong. That lancet thing that we joke about never changing? This is how you use it according to the pic accompanying a BBC Radio 2 tweet.

Apparently it is really hard to do some decent research. (And if the image wasn’t enough of a deterrent, the article looks shit too, so didn’t bother reading it.)

My maths teacher was right

So, as it turns out, I do use maths every single day. Diabetes has certainly put my algebra skills to good use!

This article from The Conversation is all about how an applied mathematician developed an algortithm to help treat diabetes. As you do.

Words that over-promise

I can’t remember the number of times I’ve heard that a diabetes cure is ‘just around the corner’ or any other version of ‘five years away’.

But how do these promises affect people living with health confitions? This article from Medivisor asks just that.

March for Health

While we were celebrating the CGM announcement on Saturday, I was very mindful that my US friends were getting ready to continue their battle for fair healthcare. March for Health was held across the US on 1 April calling for affordable access to quality health care for all people. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound unreasonable to me.

Check out more at the website here.  

And this, by the way, is possibly one of my favourite promotional posters from the March.

Women’s Health Survey … Quick!!!

And while we’re talking women’s health…There are still a few days left to do the annual Jean Hailes Women’s Health Survey, which identifies gaps in current knowledge when it comes to women’s health.

Click here to do the survey.

College Diabetes Network

There are some really wonderful groups out there supporting people with diabetes, and my friend from the US, Mindy Bartleson emailed me with some really useful information about the College Diabetes Network (CDN). The Network empowers and connects young people with diabetes and their are CDN Chapters on college campuses across the US.

The Network is certainly US based, but some of the information will be relevant to those in Australia (and elsewhere). Their resources provide information about how to prepare for the transition from high school to college or university. Do have a look!

Information for students can be found here.  And information for parents can be found here.

Peanut butter cookies

I made these cookies and jeez were they delicious!

They are gluten free, which I know is important for many people. For me, I need cookies that take no more than 10 mins to mix together and then taste perfect. Honestly, they are possibly the best tasting biscuit/cookie I have ever made… and I bake a lot.

The recipe can be found here. (I used smooth peanut butter as the recipe suggests, but I reckon they would taste awesome with crunchy. Also, do pop the mixture in the freezer before trying to shape the cookies. The dough is mighty-soft and sticky, and this step helps to get the dough from the bowl onto your cookie tray. AND DON’T SKIP THE SALT ON TOP!! This is what ties it all together and makes the magic happen!)

And finally……

… a little New Yorker Cartoons funny, which may not be directed at diabetes, but boy it certainly shows how I feel most days living as a diabetes tech cyborg!

I’m a sucker for a man with a beard. So when Jimmy Niggles was introduced as the second speaker at last weekend’s HealtheVoicesAU conference, I snapped to attention to hear what he had to say.


Jimmy Niggles (not his real name) started Beard Season at the wake of his 26-year-old mate, Wes, who died of melanoma. Each year, 46,000 people lose their life to melanoma making it one of the most lethal cancers globally.

Jimmy wanted to do something to encourage people to have regular skin checks, because (as is often the case) early detection of melanoma is critical to survival. The idea was for blokes to grow a beard in Winter (apparently the season for beards!) and then use their hirsuteness to start a conversation and challenge their friends and family to have a skin check.

One of the great things about this charity is that any bloke can become an ambassador. Grow a beard. Start a conversation. Encourage people to have a skin check. It’s simple, scalable and easily translatable. (And there is something on their website here about how women can get involved too.)

Jimmy is a reluctant advocate in some ways. He says he made himself an expert speaker by starting with one on one conversations, with the belief that every conversation can make a difference. That grass roots approach has grown to him (and his beard) being the face and voice of Beard Season and he has really kicked some major goals!

It was easy to draw parallels between what Jimmy is doing with Beard Season and how it could be adopted for diabetes awareness – both in terms of screening for type 2 diabetes and also complications screening. Those conversations at an individual level have so much potential, and tied together with public health campaigns and media promotions, there is an opportunity to reach lots of people.

Jimmy’s beard is there permanently for now and will be until someone offers him a cool million bucks to shave it off. He’s open to offers, so if you have a spare million under the mattress or in the freezer, he’ll put it to good use.

Want to do something to support Beard Season RIGHT NOW? Check out these beyond fabulous playing cards with some incredibly impressive beards. Be still my beating heart! Each deck of cards contains a lucky card. The idea is that you read the card, do as it says and spread the word. It’s another simple and effective way of getting the word out.

DISCLOSURE

Thanks to Janssen (the pharma arm of Johnson and Johnson) for covering my travel and accommodation costs to attend the #HealtheVoicesAU conference. There was no expectation by Janssen that I would write about the event and everything expressed here (and on Twitter Facebook and other social feeds) is mine and mine-alone! To read more, check out the conference hashtag, #HealtheVoicesAU, on the socials. 

 

Last Friday, I flew to Sydney to take part in the first Australia HealtheVoices Conference coordinated and run by Janssen (disclosure at the end of this post).

I’d followed along the US versions of this event, which have been running now for a couple of years, always with diabetes health advocates attending. So I was thrilled when I received an invitation to take part.

The event was run on Saturday with a dinner on Friday evening featuring Turia Pitt as the keynote speaker. I’m going to write something about that another time. Today I want to focus on some of the actual conference. This is just the first post – the rest will come over the next week or so.

I was extraordinarily excited about being in a room with advocates from outside the diabetes space. (But also pleased for the safety of the diabetes advocate bubble! We were well represented – four of us seated at the same table, occasionally nodding at each other as we recognised the stories others were sharing, even if their health condition was different to the one we navigate.)

Anytime I am surrounded by health advocates (diabetes and other) I have a weird contraction of feelings: surprise and absolute no surprise. Surprise that experiences are so similar and yet absolutely no surprise that our experiences are different! I read this article from the SMH (written as a follow up to the event) and so much resonated about Luke Escombe’s story, despite his peers not living with diabetes.

The speakers at the conference were diverse and covered a lot of different issues. And holding it all together was journalist and TV presenter Shelly Horton, whose fabulousness I cannot even start to describe! As well as making sure everything ran to time, Shelly shared stories of her own health experiences of living with PCOS.

HealtheVoices emcee, Shelly Horton, hamming it up with some diabetes advocates.

We started with Samantha Jockel from Aldi Mum. She was a terrific speaker, however I found that not everything she said sat easily with me, mostly because at times I struggled to see the parallels between what I do (write a rambling little blog about about my own experiences of my health condition) and what Sam is doing (building a community which generates income).

I also realised I’m a crap blogger! As Sam eschewed the benefits of knowing your analytics and stats – she is an analytics ninja! – I realised that I rarely if ever look at the stats on my blog or other social accounts. Facebook sends me a weekly roundup and I categorically ignore the email; Twitter wants me to check the activity of different tweets, but I don’t; Facebook also tells me when I a post is doing better than usual and I get annoyed at the alert thinking that it was someone posting a cute cat meme: LinkedIn tells me how many people are looking at my profile, urging me to go and see who they are, but I’m seldom interested.

I know these are tools that can help me grow my audience and build my following, but I still have this idea that the only people reading are my mum and the guy from Romania who used to message me every day. (Perhaps if I looked at my stats, I’d know that’s not the case…)

Sam also spoke about boosting posts and ‘throwing some money’ at them if they could do better. I’ve never spent a cent on promotion of my blog and can’t see that I ever will. Once I hit publish and share what I have written on my social feeds, I don’t do anything any further. Occasionally I repost the link on Twitter, but only when I remember that there are people living in different hemispheres and were probably asleep when I posted it the first time so may have not seen it.

I guess the difference for me personally is this: My blog is not my job. I make no money from it and I have no intention of it ever becoming a money maker for me. I have a job – this is not it, despite the significant time and energy I spend writing. I blog for very selfish reasons – to find my tribe!

But there was much that did resonate with Sam’s talk and the overarching message that I took away was this: be authentic. As she spoke about the importance of finding our own voice online, she kept coming back to the need to be relatable, honest and real.

That did make sense to me, because I know that the only reason that I write is to tell my story about living with diabetes – the good, the bad, the ugly, the real.  I know that when I read about people living with diabetes, I want to read the genuine experience. The blogs I read – and keep going back to – are the ones that are undoubtedly honest and authentic.  Real life. Real stories. Real people.

DISCLOSURE

Thanks to Janssen (the pharma arm of Johnson and Johnson) for covering my travel and accommodation costs to attend the #HealtheVoicesAU conference. There was no expectation by Janssen that I would write about the event and everything expressed here (and on Twitter Facebook and other social feeds) is mine and mine-alone! To read more, check out the conference hashtag, #HealtheVoicesAU, on the socials. 

Happy International Women’s Day!

This year, more than ever, it feels like we need this day. In fact, sometimes, it seems that the world is not a great place for women and that rather than advancing and continuing in our quest for equality, we are actually going backwards.

When we have governments – usually led by men – still thinking that they have a say with what women do to and with our bodies, making decisions about, and placing restrictions on our reproductive options and confusing health reform with the limiting of choices, we know that we’re not even close to things being fair for women.

My world is very shaped by women. Exhibit A: just a few of the women and girls who I’m lucky enough to call friends, family and colleagues, many of whom I’ve met through my diabetes life.

Exhibit A

But for me, International Women’s Day is about far more than my own world.

This year, the International Diabetes Federation has decided that the theme for November’s World Diabetes Day will be Women and Diabetes. In an effort to draw attention to the specific challenges faced by women with diabetes across the globe, the IDF will develop a range of materials to support women. There will be an entire stream at the IDF Congress in Abu Dhabi at the end of this year dedicated to women and children’s health.

Currently, there are almost 200 million women across the world living with diabetes and 40% of them are of reproductive age. That is a lot of pregnancies potentially impacted by diabetes. The need for safe, evidence-based, pre-pregnancy care for women with pre-existing diabetes is essential to improve outcomes for women and their babies.  And this needs to start early. With half of cases of hyperglycaemia in pregnancy occurring in women under 30 years, girls and young women with diabetes need to have access to education and information about the importance of pregnancy planning.

Women’s health and diabetes has always been a special interest area of mine. My first big project when I started working in diabetes organisations was to help develop a diabetes and pregnancy booklet.

But pregnancy is not the only health issue for women with diabetes. There are a lot of other concerns and issues that need to be addressed, and I am looking forward to what the IDF do later in the year.

So today I’m celebrating – and saluting – women around the world – especially my own daughter who sent me a clip of the women teachers from her school performing ‘I am Woman’. And checking out some really important women’s health-related sites (some links below). Go get your green, purple and white on and celebrate the day! 

Diabetes Sisters is a fabulous organisation based in the US and run by two of the women who appear in the collage above. It’s led by Anna Norton (CEO) and Sarah Mart (Director of Operations) who are exactly the kind of women you want on your team. I’m lucky to call them friends.

T1 International has this piece about the Sonia Nabeta Foundation.  

And, today is the perfect day to do the The Jean Hailes annual Women’s Health Survey and help shape women’s health in Australia.

Last week, I spent three and a half days in Paris at the Advanced Technologies and Treatments for Diabetes (ATTD) international conference. It was the 10th ATTD meeting, and the first that I had attended. I have been to my fair share of diabetes conferences both here and around the world, but this one was definitely different. The narrow focus on technology meant that most of the attendees shared an affinity for tech-geekiness.

I was there as part of the Roche Blogger Networking #DiabetesMeetup event, (my disclosures are at the end of this post), which was a remarkable day with about 40 bloggers from across Europe. Lots more about that in coming days.

As I sat in sessions and wandered around the exhibition hall, I found myself becoming increasingly uncomfortable. The combination of being enthused, enthralled and excited (alliteration!!) at new tech and treatment advances sat trickily alongside nagging and constant reflection about the categorically un-level playing field that is diabetes around the world.

How could I happily be sitting there, hearing about automated insulin delivery devices, the value of CGM use, implantable CGM sensors that last for 90 days and big data when I had just spent weeks imploring people to donate to Spare a Rose, Save a Child? I am an ambassador for Insulin for Life Global and despair at the thought that people are dying because they can’t access insulin. And even in first world countries, access to insulin is, for some, not a given, and the thought of accessing the sorts of technologies I was hearing about may as well be a fairy-tale.

The divide between those of us in the room – those able to use the technology – and those for whom access to any sort of diabetes tech was gaping and seems to be getting bigger by the minute.

Fabulous Professor Alicia Jenkins with Annie Astle and me.

Fabulous Professor Alicia Jenkins with Annie Astle and me.

I walked out of a brilliant session about automated clinical decision support systems. It was morning tea time, so there was a break in sessions and I thought I’d find a quiet corner to try to get my head straight about how I was feeling. I looked up and there was Professor Alicia Jenkins. I knew that she was just the person to help me sort myself out!

Alicia is an Australian endocrinologist. She is a remarkable clinician, researcher and one of the best presenters on diabetes I have ever heard. Plus, she is a lovely, lovely person. Alicia is also the President of Insulin for Life Global.

I mentioned to her how uneasy I was feeling and she agreed, but with typical (and welcome) Alicia reflection, she helped me find some perspective. She reminded me that most people at the conference are very conscious of the divide, and that even while talking about the latest advances, there was still a lot of talk about access and reimbursement. There was acknowledgement that the divide is real and needs to be addressed. I looked at her – someone who is such a huge advocate for, and expert in, technology and new treatments – and realised that, actually, we can be across both aspects of diabetes care; that just because we are excited about the latest (and expensive) technologies doesn’t mean we don’t care and want to do something to help improve access of basic diabetes supplies.

By the end of the conference, on the very long trip home, I kept thinking back to our conversation. I realised that as much as it would make things simpler, I just can’t compartmentalise my own diabetes situation and how I feel about access for others. I struggle with this, because one of the really important things for me to have done all the time I’ve worked in the diabetes space has been to separate my own experience from others’.

But in this instance I can’t just leave it at ‘this is my experience and this is someone else’s’ and I think that may actually be a positive. I do find it uncomfortable. I feel guilty that I can afford and access whatever I need when so many cannot. I feel it in Australia amongst my peers and I feel it when I read about those in other countries. (Really, you should read the brilliant profiles T1 International are sharing at the moment, which give a beautifully (and sometimes harsh) personal perspective to access issues.)

I struggle with my privilege and have a constant feeling that I am not doing enough. But these feelings are a good thing. Because I can always do more. I SHOULD always do more.

I will never stop writing about these issues here and elsewhere, or talking about them. I will keep putting my money where my mouth is, because words are not enough. And I will keep advocating, using my voice and working with people trying to make a difference, until there is no difference at all between what we can all access.

Because it’s still February, I would like to urge you again to please, if you can, make a donation to the Spare a Rose campaign. For the cost of one rose (about AUD$6), you can provide insulin for a month to a child in a developing country. (Also, I should mention that last week, I was invited to join the Spare a Rose, Save a Child team; an invitation I accepted immediately.)

Disclosures

My flights and accommodation costs to attend the Roche Blogger #DiabetesMeetUp were covered by Roche Diabetes Care (Global). They also provided me with press registration to attend ATTD. My agreement to attend their blogger day did not include any commitment from me, or expectation from them, to write about the day or their products, however I will be sharing my thoughts on the event here. Plus, you can read my live tweets from the event via my Twitter stream.

‘Why do you even care what’s happening in America? It doesn’t affect you, does it?’

I’ve been astounded to hear a few people ask me this question after finding out that the kidlet and I participated in the Women’s March a few weeks ago, or after hearing me speak about the current situation in the US with the Trump Administration threatening to repeal the Affordable Care Act, and allowing insurers to discriminate against those with pre-existing health conditions.

I care a lot about what is happening in America at the moment. Without a doubt, my main focus is what is going on with healthcare and insurance, (however today, I am stunned, dismayed at Betsy DeVos’ confirmation as Education Secretary, but that is mostly because I cannot believe that someone who thinks guns have a place in schools ‘because of, you know, grizzlies’ is in charge of education).

Does it affect me directly? Well, probably not. But it is incredibly naïve of us to think that what happens in the US is completely irrelevant here in Australia. We know our politicians look to the US for policy direction. Our new Health Minister, in his maiden speech to Parliament, put forward the case for the adoption of a healthcare system more in-line with the US-system.

Of course what is going on in America affects us, but, actually, that’s not the point.

The real point is that I care because it’s about people. Not only that, it’s about the most vulnerable people. And like it or not, people with chronic health conditions are vulnerable. We are high-level users of healthcare, we face more discrimination and we cost more to the system. We can be hit where it hurts: easily and unfairly.

Of course, within this group there are some more vulnerable than others.

In the same way, I’ve had people ask me why I care so much about insulin access around the world, which seems like such a callous thing to even think, much less say out loud, when you remember that the life expectancy for a child diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in sub-Sahara Africa is 12 months. I actually still struggle to get my head around that really.

I care because I am a global citizen and I care because my social responsibility is to those less fortunate. I care because when my brothers and sisters around the world are struggling because they can’t access diabetes care, it hurts us all. I care because when I hear that instead of protecting the most vulnerable – as they should – governments are building walls (no pun intended) to make it more difficult, more frustrating and more tiring, the response should never be ‘oh well’, it should be ‘What.Can.I.Do?’  I care because diabetes is hard enough without having to fear being turned away from A&E or from other treatment. I care because no one should die because they can’t easily and affordably access a drug that has been around for 95 fucking years.

Of course I marched last month and you can bet that I will be doing it again. And you bet that I will be standing alongside my friends in the US as they fight one of the hardest battles they’ve ever faced just to be able to access healthcare, and my friends from around the world too as they fight access issues. And I will continue to make donations to charities helping those who cannot access insulin and be an Ambassador for Insulin For Life Global as they continue their excellent and necessary work.

But if you really think that it’s all too far away, so it won’t touch us, then perhaps you might like to do something to help people closer to home. As someone delicately reminded me last week, it is not only people in developing countries who struggle to access diabetes healthcare and drugs, and whose outcomes are far, far poorer than those of us living firmly inside a privilege bubble.

In Australia, diabetes is more than three times more common among Aboriginal people than among non-Aboriginal people. Hospital rates for diabetes-kidney complications for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is ten times higher than among non-Indigenous people. The rate of gestational diabetes in Indigenous women is more than twice the rate among non-Indigenous people.

Get involved with or make a donation to an Australian-based charity if you would prefer to do something to help those closer to home.

We should all care because when others are disempowered, it means they are not able to get the best care or expect the best outcomes. And we do something because we can; and if we can, we should. That is what being socially responsible is all about.

Flowers die; children shouldn’t. Make a donation to Spare a Rose, Save a Child, and Life for a Child today. Click on the rose to take you straight to the donation page. Simples!

Flowers die; children shouldn’t. Make a donation to Spare a Rose, Save a Child, and Life for a Child today. Click on the rose to take you straight to the donation page. Simples!

When I spend time with friends in the US, they often take great delight in the words I use or the way I pronounce things. Apparently, there is much to amuse in the Australian-English language. In New York back in January, when speaking with friends about our voting practices, I explained the concept of the ‘sausage sizzle’. Our friends were looking at each other clearly wondering if we were serious, or completely making things up (i.e. fair dinkum or having a lend of them). It is my aim to have as many of my DOC friends as possible using ‘frocked up’ whenever they speak about dressing a little fancily!

And, somewhat oddly, it is in America that I am (apparently) most difficult to understand. I know I speak very, very fast and the frequent waving of hands can be distracting. I’ve learnt to adapt with some things (spelling my name when ordering coffee, I say ‘zee’ instead of ‘zed’) and try to adapt to the local lexicon (trash instead of rubbish / gas instead of petrol / Waldo instead of Wally* etc.) and try to slow down the speed with which I speak.

It’s February which means one thing and one thing only. It’s a month of red roses. That’s right, it’s time again for Spare a Rose, Save a Child.

I could tell you all about it again, but let me leave it to Manny and Graham who, once they get over the language barrier, do a great job of explaining the whole idea behind Spare a Rose

I make a monthly donation to Life for a Child via this campaign. Each month AUD$6 comes out of my account and directly deposited into theirs. Six bucks. Basically, that’s a coffee and a half. So, the equation is this:


That’s right: for what it costs me to purchase 1.5 coffees, a child in a developing country survives for another month.

Every February, I urge people to consider donating to Spare a Rose Save a Child – either as a one off on Valentine’s day, or to set up making a monthly donation. And this year, with all that is going on in a very messed-up world, here is one small way to feel that you are helping out someone who really, truly needs it.

‘Inshulin’ or ‘inssulin’. It doesn’t matter how you say it. Just help a kid in need get some!

Click here for information about this year’s Spare a Rose Save a Child campaign, including how to donate.

spare a rose

 

*IT’S FREAKING WALLY, NOT WALDO!

With millions of people across the globe, I marched for women’s rights on Saturday. Alongside my beautiful daughter – who is growing into a fearless and fierce activist herself – I stood in solidarity with my sisters from all continents of the world, as we called for protection of our rights.

Solidarity Sisters!

Solidarity Sisters!

It was beautiful in Melbourne – a true mid-Summer day with stunning clear blue skies and a hot sun overhead. We stood on the steps of the State Library – my favourite place in the city – and listened as women from all walks shared their stories and urged us to stand up, rise up and never give up.

After a while, the kidlet and I walked to the back of the crowd, looking for some shade. We found a park bench and she looked for a vantage point to get a look at the rally and wander around to take some photos as I sat down at the other end of the bench to calibrate my CGM.

I quickly pricked my finger and squeezed blood onto the strip. When the number came up, I entered it into the Dex app on my phone.

The woman sitting next to me on the park bench smiled over at me. ‘Me too,’ she said, holding up the bag of jelly beans she was eating.

I beamed back at her. ‘Are you okay? The heat isn’t helping, is it?’

‘I’ll be fine. Just need a few minutes before the march starts. I’ll be okay.’

I smiled again and stood up. ‘We always are, right? Enjoy the march.’

‘I will,’ she said. ‘And you too. One foot in front of the other.’

I nodded. ‘It’s the only way.’

I walked over to the kidlet and we made our way back through the crowd.

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#WomensMarchMelbourne

On 11 January in 1922, a 14-year-old boy in Toronto was given the first insulin injection to treat diabetes. His name was Leonard Thompson, and he lived for another 13 years, before dying of pneumonia when he was 27 years old.

When he was given insulin for the first time, Leonard was on the only treatment available at the time for those diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. He was on a starvation diet, and he was close to death, drifting in and out of a coma because of diabetic ketoacidosis.

There are dates each year that trigger reminder lessons in the discovery of insulin. On those days, I say a silent thank you to Banting and Best for their work, grateful to them for my life and I peek into my refrigerator at the vials of insulin within easy reach for when they are needed.

But I also feel a great sense of sadness and frustration, because today, ninety-five years after Leonard Thompson was given his first insulin injection, this miracle drug is still inaccessible to so many people with diabetes. And people are dying, suffering in the way that Leonard was before he was given the drug for the first time.

Yes, I said ‘suffering’. And I don’t use that word. I don’t suffer from diabetes – I live with it. But make no mistake, someone who cannot access insulin and is dying from diabetic ketoacidosis is suffering. They are in pain; their body is in distress. They are dying.

The playing field is so un-level and that is simply not fair. So if you are able to – if you are one of the fortunate ones with insulin in your fridge, please do consider donating to those who are not.

Insulin for Life Global needs donations to fund transport costs for delivering insulin to those most in need. AUD$12.50 will cover the cost of sending two weeks’ worth of insulin.

Around Valentine’s Day each year, Spare a Rose, Save a Child suggests sending 11 instead of 12 roses. The AUD$6 saved provides insulin for a month to child with diabetes through the IDF’s Life for a Child program.

And for AUD$10, T1 International will send out their advocacy toolkit to five people with type 1 diabetes, providing information about how they can stand up for their rights.

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(Click image for source)

 

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