Why did the insulin die in my pancreas?

I have a list of humourous diabetes-related slogans that I endeavour to print on t-shirts…that’s a dream for when Lance is a little older, and the current dramas of oscillating BSLs and waiting-for-the-pump become issues of the past.

On a particularly miserable Monday morning, my extremities were about to snap. Yes,despite living in a sunburnt country, we happen to reside in a notoriously cold city, known for its westerly winds and early morning frosts.I had just muttered a list of expletives as I tiptoed across the icy floorboards to grab Lance’s insulin. The reason being that my 2am bsl check that I perform on Lance nightly flashed an offensive 19.5mmol/L at me. I couldn’t believe it. He was 7.7mmol/L before we went to bed. I began assembling the insulin pen it so I could administer the life-serum to my sleeping son. Before I left the kitchen, I held it at eye level, whilst checking for air bubbles, and said out loud, ” Pleeeease do your job, you’ve been terribly slack lately!” in an exasperated, pleading tone.

The insulin was delivered into a perfectly exposed spot on Lance’s tummy, thanks to a button that had come undone on his Tranformers pyjama shirt. I was thankful that I didn’t have to put my icy hands on his warm little body. I was too wired to go to sleep, so I plotted a few days blood sugar trends on www.sugarstats.com. All done. I googled the word: “pancreas” just for the hell of it. I had already had a conversation with an insulin pen, found myself drumming out the rhythm of the theme song that gets so much airplay at our house-…Transformers, more than meets the eye..” with two innocent pencils on a stack of books, so why not look at a bunch of pancreas pics whilst I was at it? I mean, I know it isn’t standard 2am behaviour to engage in, but after the craziness of the past weeks, it made sense that I appeared to be somewhat delirious.( My only witness was our devoted whippet, He isn’t going to tell anyone about his Master’s mother and her early morning cuckoo antics…)

The nights events came to an unexectedly hilarious peak when I discovered this.

I was so intrigued to see such creative and hysterical use of a pancreas! I chuckled quietly to myself as I read on. The folks at www.iheartguts.com are devoted to making internal organs come to life with snappy little catchphrases, and their products are perfect for those with a troublesome condition that is usually wrapped up in a stockpile of seriousness and only ever mentioned in hushed tones.

 They boast an impressive range of t-shirts, featuring all of your favourite organs for men and women. (Lance is getting the “Gimme Some Sugar” shirt in a ladies Size Small.) They have stickers, pins and even plush, colourful replicas of your sick, tired, or damaged organ, all with a guaranteed belly laugh or two.

 Why not give his pancreas a voice? It may as well be used for something..

Ha. I just imagined a sad little pancreas with a weather-beaten, six-year-old “For Lease” sign stuck in the middle of it. The humour is rubbing off!

For anyone who has problems with their liver, pain from their kidneys, a literally “broken” heart, a devastatingly vacant uterus, synapses that are slightly askew in their brain,or a spleen that is more trouble than it’s worth, you must visit www.iheartguts.com , even if only for a good old-fashioned guffaw. (However, something tells me that the uber cool design, plus the given ability to have a laugh about your imperfect organ, and the passion shown towards guts in general will find you with your credit card in hand, ready to purchase a rib-tickler. It worked first shot with me!

I’m tired of Diabetes being so serious and overwhelming. I caught myself frowning in the mirror recently, and I actually gasped aloud at the deep folds of skin that have developed in my brow. ( I quickly made an appointment and dashed off to get a professional sea weed facial and a miniscule jar of cream that allegedly “plumpens prominent wrinkles with continual use”… It worked psychologically anyway..) The first thing that came to mind was Botox,( I then slapped myself for being so absurd and narcissistic,) and just a few seconds later, I decided that I really need to concentrate on how a quality of life that Lance doesn’t  know exists, and  that I have long forgotten existed will be handed back to us significantly, once we commence insulin pump therapy, and, that one day, Lance’s pancreas will welcome a bunch of excited, lively, brand new islet cells that will deliver insulin when required without any intervention from him or me.

Thank you SO much to the team at I Heart Guts.

You are the first to make me laugh-out-loud and slap my thigh at my son’s defunct pancreas. 

GREAT TRUTHS THAT LITTLE CHILDREN HAVE LEARNED:

1) No matter how hard you try, you can’t baptise cats.
2) When your Mum is mad at your Dad, don’t let her brush your hair.
3) If your sister hits you, don’t hit her back. They always catch the second person.
4) Never ask your 3-year old brother to hold a tomato.
5) You can’t trust dogs to watch your food.
6) Don’t sneeze when someone is cutting your hair.
7) Never hold a Dust-Buster and a cat at the same time. You can’t hide a piece of broccoli in a glass of milk.
9) Don’t wear polka-dot underwear under white shorts.
10) The best place to be when you’re sad is Grandpa’s lap.

I have been in contact with Shannon for over a year now. We clicked very quickly, and if I didn’t know better, I would have mistaken her for an Aussie. She introduced Lance and me to Maple Syrup..drool. Lance and Shannon’s son, Brendon were penpals for quite a while, but just like all good penpals, they stopped writing…however..we are going to amend that as soon as possible! Watch Mum’s inbox Brendon!!!

So my friend Shannon decided to tag me for a meme! I was quite honoured actually, being in Australia, I feel a bit out of the loop at times regarding Diabetes. I sometimes read posts and have NO idea about what they mean..our cultures are like chalk and cheese. So, I purposefully tried to give Shannon and her readers a splash of Australiarama. I hope you all still will come visit my blog after I post this…at least I was honest!

Once you’ve been tagged, you have to write a blog with 10 weird, random, facts, habits or goals about yourself. At the end, choose 6 people to be tagged, list their names & why you tagged them. Don’t forget to leave them a comment saying “You’re it!” & to go read your blog. You cannot tag the person that tagged you, so since you’re not allowed to tag me back; let me know when you are done so I can go read YOUR weird, random, facts, habits and goals.

1. When I was about 10, all I wanted in the whole world was an Alf doll. You know, the 80’s lovable alien that was in fact a “little person”inside a furry orange suit, who got up to all sorts of shennanigans with an All American family? Well I got that Alf Doll, and I loved it to death. 10 years later, my Mum pulled Alf out of the cupboard of shame-a chest of all of my childhood diaries, attempts at sewing, abyssmal attempts at home made Mother’s Day cards…you know the deal. I took it home and I showed it to my cat. Poor puss jumped four feet in the air, hissed and landed on the a rack of 100 CDs and was buried alive under my vintage Madonna CD collection. He hid for two days under my bed. Puss was psychologically scarred. Alf was banished to the cupboard. I later sold him on E Bay. Got 100 bucks. More than what my Mum paid for it. I took her to lunch with the profit I made from the successful new owner of Alf.

2. I have an obsession with tweezers. I carry them wherever I go. If someone has a stray eyebrow or an offending chin hair, I’ll pluck it. Same with pimples. The riper, the better. I have no issues whatsoever with busting open other peoples’ zits. I prefer my own though.

3. When I was 21, I won a karaoke contest with 3 gay boys. We sang “I Will Survive” in honour of our idol, Priscilla, she being of the desert. For Americans who have never seen Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, I thoroughly recommend. Guy Pearce, Hugo Weaving, Terence Stamp, all queening it up. It’s hilarious, darling!

4. As a poor and destitute Uni Student, I was living on 19 cent packs of generic brand noodles. ( Can I have some noodles with my MSG please?) Anyway, I was chatting to a friend one day, and he said to me, “You know, you have SUCH a sexy voice, you should do phone sex!” As a joke, grabbed the phone book and went through all of the phone sex agencies, and I offered my services to all of them. Afterwards, we sat back and cackled loudly at our childish prank……. About 5 months later, 6.30am in the morning, I was woken by a very insistent caller. I finally answered, and a hurried female voice replied, “Kate? You put your name down for work? You’re hired. Call this number in 5 minutes and then call me back on this number when he’s “through.” After the call, I was mortified at what had just occurred! However, the cash was the big lure. I could make hundreds of dollars a week, all by introducing Mai Ling, for fans of the Orient, Cinnamon, for the more suave, sophisticated gent, Brandy, the bucking bronco cheerleader from Montana and Katerina, a Russian immigrant lost and looking for love. I actually did an assignment for psychology about whether or not indulging in fantasy calls was considered socially unacceptable or regarding the married gents, if listening to a “voice” was crossing the line into infidelity, It got really sad when I discovered I was speaking to the same clients and they had no idea that “Brandy” and Mai Ling” were the same person. I felt guilty and my conscience gnawed away at me. I resigned, and breathed a sigh of relief. The “girls” were put to rest. Nevertheless, I made a quick 2 grand in a few months, just for saying “ooh” and “ahh” and “big boy” repeatedly, and watching movies with subtitles in my PJS whilst doing it!!!! (Sorry guys, I wasn’t in my leather thong like you wanted me to be….)

5. I am DYING to see Hugh Jackman with his whip on a horse in Baz Luhrmann’s upcoming epic, “Australia.” Even though Hugh doesn’t know it, we have been making eyes at each other for years.,..Sigh…

6. I am the only person with red hair in my immediate family. Then my brothers and sister had kids, and each got a “bloodnut.” I KNOW they secretly hate me for it. Being an Australian and a redhead is NOT fun. The nicknames are endless…the jokes and jibes are just torturous. Occasionally the odd lout will drive by in his ute and yell out “Carrot top!” to which I yell back “My hair’s not GREEN!” Lance is a very watered down version of a redhead…what we like to call “strawberry blonde.”

7. I just adore Australian slang. I was listening to two “sparkies” (electricians) who were doing some work at my house recently, their conversation was pure gold.

“Geez mate, this weather would kill a black dog wouldn’t it? Im dyin,ere! Cant wait to crack open a coldie when i get ‘ome. Yeah..watch the footie, bitta the news or somethin, and then probly hit the sack. I’m buggered. Ahhh no!!!!…the missus’ oldies are comin’ over for tea..ahhh geez…can’t get out of it or I’ll ave Cheryl on me back for the next bloody week…so i’ll just ‘ave to sit there and eat me grub and make an appearance, just for the missus’ sake, ya know? Bloody inlaws, always wantin’ to know too much about everythin.’ Anyway mayte, thanks for the chinwag, I’d better be off before Cheryl has me by the short’n'curlies! Hoo roo..yeah,..see ya mate.” If you need an interpretation..I’d be happy to translate.

8. I have a real, legitimate phobia. Billy Bob Thornton has a fear of antiques. Mine…CLOWNS. ARRRG. Just the thought of them sends shivers down my spine. When I think of a clown, I always envisage the one out of Steven King’s “It.” Sheer evil piece of work. You wouldn’t catch me near a circus for a million bucks. Shudder.

9. If I was a chick out of Sex in the City, I’d say I’d be Samantha with a hint of Carrie.. Spice Girls? Ginger Spice with a hint of Scary.

10. One day, when I am no longer housebound and shackled to Lance’s Diabetes, I am going to be just like Oprah and hire my own private chef, exclusively for Lance. That would be the biggest luxury in the world for me. I am SO not a hands in washing up water, tea towel drying girl… Lance’s idea of luxury is a visit to Legoland. It’ll happen one of these days. It has to.

I tag Dan, Lizzie, Janek, Kezza, Penny and James.

Wha What more needs to be said?