More musings about hypoglycaemia.

I have a confession to make. I used to try to reduce my blood sugar as much as I possibly could before going to sleep in order to make it vaguely possible for me to even sleep. Ever sat up for hours at night with a feeling like your mouth is filled with vomit and the skin around your lips has become encrusted shit? That is basically the feeling I get when I lie in bed at night with a blood sugar even slightly to the North of 10.0 mmol/l.

Hypoglycaemia: drunk is more fun than this.

One of the films that I have a sort of love-hate relationship with is the Bill Murray-starring black comedy Groundhog Day. I will not go into what that film is about, except to say that on the first occasion when Murray‘s character gets an awfully heightened sense of deja vu, he is asked by his producer if he is drunk. His response is, and I quote, “Drunk’s more fun than this”.

Diabetes, cancer, autism. They are all different. A look at why…

I am autistic. I have diabetes, and I have had diabetes for nearly as long as I have been autistic (in other words, I have had diabetes for the majority of my lifetime). I have cancer, and have been affected by cancer for significant periods of time. Now, alarm bells might go off when I associate all three of these things, but there is a reason I am linking them in this writing. This reason should be carefully considered by readers.

A warning for readers who might be weak of stomach: in the text below the link, I have included images of what I will refer to here as “medical doom”. These show parts of people including myself after a visible part of their person has fallen victim to the actual diseases mentioned in the title, or complications thereof. They are very hardcore. If you feel upset at the mere sight of the faked deaths in Hollywood films, then for fukk’s sake, disable images in your web browser before reading the text below. However, these images might also help you grok what I am trying to tell you.