WATCH first, READ second…
That was fun wasn’t it? Really hope you liked it; it marks an exciting gearshift for YFT1 – hopefully lots more where that came from!
I wanted to make this video because, as ever, I think it’s really important to emphasise that life doesn’t have to stop because of Type 1. I do everything my friends do and more – which isn’t at all about saving the world or flying aeroplanes, but simply doing exactly what my friends are doing… enjoying life. No biggie for them, and hopefully not so much of a biggie for those of us with a defunct pancreas. And that, a lot of the time, includes alcohol. Glorious, oft sugar-laden alcohol.
There are a few things in the vid that I think need a wee bit of explaining. Firstly, for the lovely non-diabetics out there who watched (that’s one, you say? Hi, Dad) but don’t understand what the numbers on that screen mean (and why would you), that little meter is the single most important tool we have in knowing whether we’re anywhere along the right lines of getting this complicated disease in any way right. It tells us whether we need to eat, inject, exercise, or curl up in a ball and lay very very still for a while. Sometimes the numbers are what we expect, but sometimes the numbers make you want to throw the thing out of the window. The elusive, dreamy, magical figures that we’re desperate to see flash up after THE LONGEST FIVE SECONDS EVER are anything between 4 and 9. Low and behold the over-dramatised (and slightly tipsy) ‘OH NO!’ for a 16.7. Not what you want. A little too high or a little too low is generally fine (I was delighted with the 10.9 on the tube home), but stray too far and you risk running into problems. Short term; you’re tired and can’t concentrate. Long term; you’re blind. Super.
But equally if you get a reading nearer the lower end hours before the next meal, it may LOOK wonderful but experience tells me it’s more than likely I’m going to crash before it’s time to eat again. So that reading of 6.8 one hour after lunch allowed me to go in HARD on a Peanut Butter KitKat Chunky. Bliss.
Other disclaimers include:
I know I had a very small amount of insulin that day. Tiny, tiny, in fact. Most days, surviving on a cereal bar and a salad all day goes against my religion (Food. Food is my religion), but that’s just how the day went. And that’s kind of the point – in that it was different from my normal routine; outside of the counting carbs, cals and units us lot are generally bound by, but I managed just fine, and being type 1 was not a factor in whether or not a lack of grub was an issue. I didn’t have time to eat after running because Mark’s arrival was imminent, and I left him hanging at the tube station for 10 minutes (after a 4 hour journey) without reaching for my standard bowl of breakfast porridge, so I just ran out the door. But I knew my blood sugar was a lovely 9.9, and I knew we would be eating pretty quickly (food is high on our agenda. It might be why we’re friends) so I therefore knew, that with my trusty cereal bars in tow, I would be fine.
Likewise, I ate the cereal bar without injecting before my run because 4.8 is bordering on the low side, and I knew I was about to exercise and burn more energy. I think if I hadn’t eaten it I may have been in trouble, particularly because despite the searing heat, this idiot chose to wear a winter hoodie and thus was hotter THAN THE SUN on that run. Yes, heat = sweat = energy consumption = greater chance of a hypo. So much fun isn’t it?
The final disclaimer has nothing to do with diabetes. It’s purely about pride. VEIN SHALLOW PRIDE.
*senses your judgement*
I did NOT invite Mark alllll the way down to London to take him to one establishment that you can find anywhere in the country (absolutely no offence intended here; it was wonderful to us on the night. It just doesn’t scream ‘London’ does it?). We were meeting old friends that we used to work with, who were holding a function at said establishment. Although IMAGINE our delight at discovering they have a 2 for 1 mix and match cocktail offer on a FRIDAY!?! This NEVER happens. And goes a long way to explaining the lunges, that’s for sure.
Lunges aside the demand for, and resulting availability of, ‘skinny’ cocktails in an increasingly health-conscious world is an absolute diabetic’s dream. Diet coke a go go. So drink up people! I would put a ‘drink responsibly’ disclaimer in here but we’re talking about real life here, and in real life people get DRUNK. Just don’t sue me, thanks.
P.S. I’d be interested to know if anyone else can go to town on prosecco with very little effect on blood sugars whatsoever? It happens to be my favouritest of favourite most favourable drinks, so HAPPY DAYS to me and my type 1 self.
Cheers to that.