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Ama – The Nice One

Everything you wanted to know about a little old dog who has been diagnosed with insulinoma (an aggressive insulin producing tumour), but were too afraid to ask.

To recap. Our little dog, Ama, had a bad episode of pancreatitis in January. Too much cheese and yoghurt. She came home from the specialist vet with a not unreasonable diagnosis of insulinoma and a blood glucose sensor. Her medical team had trouble stabilising her blood glucose levels and a blood test showed a high insulin blood serum level. Two weeks of BG data indicated that her BGLs were fine.

We suspect the diagnosis may be wrong. So we took her back to the specialist vet who confirmed she had insulinoma. However her regular vet hadn’t sent through her BG data, so we did that after the appointment. People get busy. It happens. And then we heard nothing.

This week we took Ama to the regular vet for another BG sensor and follow up blood tests because nothing much seems to have changed. And those tests were fine! However the new BG home data indicates lowish but steady BGLs. So, who the hell knows?

By necessity, Ama has been rather sedentary. Don’t want her to go hypo. Mostly she sleeps in the kitchen. It is her domain now, reinforcing her superiority over the other dogs. We will do a few experiments while she has the new sensor and see what happens to her BGLs when we introduce some exercise.

Anyway, the prognosis for untreated insulinoma was six months at most. It’s been three months. Ama continues none too shabbily.

So we wait and wonder. None of us are in a hurry to see the back of her, including her regular vet team who we overhead call her the nice one. We shall not mention that to Fynnie or Makea.

Is my backside too big?

In the meantime, we medicate Ama with non-fat treats. Ama doesn’t complain but she would prefer cheese.

Take care, everyone. Stay calm and don’t forget to eat a treat every now and then.

Kind Regards.

Tracy.

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Late Bloomer

Ladies and gentlemen, I have been waiting with bated breath for the murnong (Microseris lanceolata) on my verge to bloom. I have been waiting much longer for a closed loop insulin delivery system that adjusts my insulin dose based on real time changes in my blood glucose level. Both have finally arrived.


I have only been using the new tech for one week but already I feel that I am living life less on the edge. The tech suffers from a few technical glitches, but I can envisage a day in the near future when I can free my mind from the hundreds of decisions that normally go into the day to day management of my Type 1 diabetes. It may even change my temperament – perhaps I’ll be less cranky. Life too may offer a few more possibilities, just like this murnong seedhead.


Take care, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

For information on the revival of the Murnong see
https://www.sbs.com.au/food/article/2021/07/01/native-superfood-8-times-nutritious-potato-and-tastes-sweet-coconut

RDP Rest

Posted on by Reflections of an Untidy Mind

Follow That Man

Some hospitals have a bit of kit that allows friends and family to track the whereabouts of their loved ones that have been admitted to hospital. I’m not sure whether I like it. For example, when your True Love is in theatre, the app indicates this. However, it doesn’t tell you what is taking so long. Of course, as the anxiety builds and the hours stretch out, the tracker is prone to wondering what happens if the patient (the tracked) dies In Theatre? Fortunately, people come out of theatre sooner or later and when they do, the app indicates that the patient has Exited Theatre. It is left to the tracker to imagine in what condition the patient exited the theatre. When the last update occurs late in the evening, the tracker may have a certain reluctance to call the hospital for information given the hour.

Information provided to families with loved ones in a particular hospital advises that due to the Covid situation, visitors should consider the need to visit and encourages calling loved ones instead. The few times that I have been to hospital to be spliced open to remove wrigglers, I was groggy for days afterward so I do not think it would be at all wise to ring the tracked directly after surgery because clearly that person would be in recovery and not taking calls or back on ward and potentially indisposed, or worse. Having discussed this situation with the wrigglers, we can only presume that someone from the hospital would ring us if the patient was in a bad way or worse. There must be some limits to this app. Surely? Presumably?

All will be revealed. I guess. Tomorrow.

I need a song. I can’t think of a better one than Katie Melua singing If You Were A Sailboat.

I have turned off comments so that I can freak out.

Take care, everyone.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Posted on by Reflections of an Untidy Mind

Choose Your Own Poison

Tracy (front) and her sister riding Lightning,1972
An image flickers like an old home movie across the screen.  
A young girl stands by an open fridge door drinking thirstily from a large bottle of Passiona.  A woman, her mother, appears in the background and chastises her daughter for drinking too much soft drink.  Too much Passiona.  Always Passiona.

"Drink water," the child's mother says.
But the child doesn't stop. 

Images flicker alternately between the child vomiting violently, and drinking from the bottle of Passiona, before vomiting again.  The child becomes thinner and thinner.  
Images of the wasting child flicker faster until she is nothing but a wisp of fetid Passiona air,  translucent and ephemeral as she drifts in and out of consciousness.

When I was a small girl, I lived on a rural property on the outskirts of Sydney. Every week, the soft drink man would deliver a crate of syrupy, carbonated drinks to the property. They were supposed to be a treat, but I couldn’t get enough of them. My favourite was a passionfruit-flavoured fizzy called Passiona. In the 50 years since I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I have always craved carbonated fizzy drinks on those rare occasions when my blood glucose levels have been seriously high. It is worth noting that I became a Type 1 diabetic in the months after I recovered from a serious bout of the measles. Isn’t it fortunate that there are now vaccines to protect against many serious viruses that can trigger our immune systems to go into hyper drive and attack our own bodies?

The (optional) task for Day 14 of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) is to write a poem/piece that takes the form of the opening scene of the movie of your life.

There’s more to this movie, but this is a start.

Take care, everyone.
Kind Regards.
Tracy.

NaPoWriMo #14
Ragtag Daily Prompt – Changeling

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Posted on by Reflections of an Untidy Mind

Round The Bend

There has been many a twist and turn, and a few curve balls thrown at us over the last few weeks.

My mother and step-father visited from up north, skirting the floods that have left thousands homeless on the east coast of Australia. It has been over two years since I had my hair cut. My mother plaited it for me. The plait was a bit wonky, so perfect for me.

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We Shall Decide When You Shall Return To The Office

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

Unfortunately, I’ve had a really shit week. I accidentally got my Covid booster shot during the week. I had a doctor’s appointment late one afternoon and they had vaccine doses left over so they offered me one and I accepted. Gee, the fizzer shot raises your blood glucose level, doesn’t it? My BG has been all over the shop. The day after my shot, I was high all day so I decided to walk that blood sugar down. I felt really good when I started out. That should have been a warning sign. With the pump cannula in my leg (I know, stupid), the intramuscular insulin and exercise slammed me down pretty fast. I started to stagger when I reached my street on my way home. I don’t know why I didn’t stop to drink my Lucozade when I felt the hypo symptoms. Too far gone and too stupid, I guess. But I only had a few hundred metres to go, so I pushed on. I made it to our bin when my legs started to collapse under me. I then somehow made it to the front steps. I don’t know how long I was outside, clutching on to the railing, but by the time I was discovered, I was covered in mosquito bites. I remember whispering, “Help me. Help me.” Very pathetic. My True Love has a sixth sense about these things and he found me on the stairs.

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In Good Times And Bad

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

I admire those people for whom caring for the sick and broken comes instinctively. I can keep up the Florence Nightingale charade for about a week (slight exaggeration) but after that I need to have a Bex and a lie down. I find it especially stressful when the source of the problem is not immediately obvious or the patient cannot communicate how they are feeling. When my dog was indeterminately ill a couple of years ago, the vet suggested I could probably do with a Valium. I suspect his comment was his way of avoiding my endless questions and speculative scenarios. Why start at the start when you can jump to conclusions? I can be a real pain in the arse.

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Friday Stream Of Conscience

This is not my monthly wrap-up or the Friday post that I was going to write.  Somehow my day spun out of control.  No need for concern.  Sometimes it happens.  You know how it is.  This stream of conscience (yes, I really do mean conscience) may make no sense at all to some people. Read more

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Blue Goodbyes

Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

It is important to stop that second wave of Covid-19 infections, ladies and gentlemen.  Apparently we have to continue to give each other space, practise good hygiene and work from home if we can.  I know that is easier said than done, especially for those that must work to survive.  Harder still for those that must stay at home to survive and also attend work to survive.  As for me, I am not going to relax my guard.  I can’t.  Lives still depend on it.

Here’s a clip of Wendy Matthews singing The Day You Went Away.  It is probably the way many people are feeling right now.

Thank you for being careful.  Together we can minimise the second wave.

Kind Regards.
Tracy.

Ragtag Daily Prompt — The Blues

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2020/may/20/type-1-diabetics-type-2-coronavirus-nhs-study

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Waiting Or Anticipating?

A black hat perspective.  Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.

After a buoyant few days, I’ve stopped to think.  It is necessary, albeit depressing, but it helps me get things weirdly acceptable in my head.  I still haven’t heard anything definitive about how much of the new corona virus, Australia, is prepared to live with.   Some apparently.  However, no-one in authority is yet prepared to be upfront about the costs of this suppression strategy.  It is one thing to be reassured that there will be a (net?) benefit, but without being specific about what is being traded off — who and what is to be sacrificed — how can the community have ownership of any virus-related actions and outcomes? Read more