Greetings from the Madhouse

I have been a T1 diabetic since I was 3 years old. I have one little brother, my mum and dad live about 4 miles away in a house on the moors. I live in a town in Cornwall, in a rented maisonette, with my other half, Rich. Were I married to him I’d have 4 step kids, 4 step grand kids and a rescue cat (who remembers that felines used to be worshipped as gods) called Oscar.

I am pretty convinced there is a squirrel gene, I am incapable of throwing stuff away. I won’t buy it if I can make it, which invariably means it’ll take more than a year to appear in my home, a footwear collection which is bordering on obscene and a penchant for baking and jams and chutneys oh the irony.

I have had insulin dependent diabetes since 1983, and have had poor control for most of my teens. I think I was dismissed as a rebellious teenager. I’ll freely admit there was a period where I ignored my diabetes and abused my pancreas, I just desperately wanted to be normal, as if being a 5’11’, busty, angsty hormonal teen wasn’t enough but there was no support from the Dr’s with the most important issue of my erratic T1 and then to be branded ‘non-compliant’ adult, was just a kick in the proverbial nuts, dammit at the age if 22 i felt like i was trying to wade through treacle,.

I’ve had numerous miscarriages, viral pneumonia, a nearly exploded appendix, DKA, night time hypoglycaemic comas (brief but scary), been clinically depressed (boy that’s a drag), overweight, underweight, tired and at times just plain sick.

As my biological time bomb exploded, having had 4 failed pregnancies and no help with anything diabetic, I finally took the bull by the horns and changed my medical team. It was the best move I ever made. I am now pumping and on the books at the infertility clinic woohoo!!

So welcome to my life. It’s mad, chaotic, tough, skint, creative, generally happy and if you read it in a novel you’d wonder where the hell they came up with the plot.