Blog is moving!

After being unsure initially how this blog would evolve, I’ve now decided that a more suitable location would be http://diabetespoetry.blogspot.com/ - since all the posts contain a poem about diabetes!

If you are following this blog, please relocate to the new blog. It contains all the poems published so far here, but new ones will only be published on the new blog.

Thank you for your time, and I do hope you will join me!

Sulphonylureas!

I felt the need to challenge myself, not to wrote some long, elaborate poem,
But one that would use the word sulphonylureas – it’s a type of drug used in the treatment mainly of Type 2 diabetes. A couple of other quick limericks sprang to mind whilst I was pondering it, but I managed it eventually! I’m still looking for a rhyme for thiazolidinediones though…!



A man went for retinal screening
Without really knowing its meaning,
'You'll have drops, then you'll wait
Till your pupils dilate,
Then we'll know if you need laser healing!'

There was a young man who was vexed at all
This talk about lowering cholesterol.
He packed animal fat in
And took simvastatin,
Now he has a fine level of HDL!

There once was a man who was furious
That he'd been prescribed sulphonylureas!
He took gliclazide,
Saw his blood sugar subside,
And concluded it wasn't injurious!

Five Point Six

Blood glucose meters are a pretty fundamental part of any diabetic’s kit these days. They allow us to test and hopefully confirm that our blood glucose levels are within a normal range, lowering the threat of complications from the condition. In most parts of the world, meters measure blood glucose in millimoles per litre and a non-diabetic person will stay within a range of around 4.0-7.0 mmol/l.

Thus, an ideal figure to encounter when testing your blood is somewhere in the middle of this range. Practically all the companies that manufacture meters appear to have agreed on a figure of 5.6 mmol/l, and proudly display this coveted figure in all their meter adverts – but I’ve been looking back through my diary and it’s seems this level is about as rare as chicken lips!

What a magical number is five point six!
What a heartwarming figure to see!
But elusive and mythical, impossible to fix,
A number you are unlikely to see…

For the meter will show just too high or too low,
Or may even show an extreme,
But to see five point six on my little box of tricks –
I’d be like the cat with the cream!

It’s a subliminal ruse that the companies use
To persuade us their meter’s ideal,
And help us to choose, and believe we can’t lose –
Just imagine how much better we’d feel!

But I won’t give up hope, and I think I can cope
If the figure I see’s five point seven…
For it’s just within scope of that slippery slope
To a number that’s blood glucose heaven!

Eye Noon

One of the scary ‘complications’ of diabetes is retinopathy, which affects the sight and can lead to blindness. As I understand it, poor blood sugar control causes the tiny blood vessels in the eyes to become narrowed and rupture. The human body being the remarkable thing that it is, new vessels are then formed to ‘re-route’ the blood. Unfortunately, these can then affect an area of the eye called the macula, and it is this that can cause the blindness. If caught early enough, the condition can be treated with lasers, preventing further deterioration. For this reason, all diabetics in the UK should go at least annually for a retinopathy scan – I’ve got mine due in a couple of weeks. A special camera is used to photograph the retina, and this can then be compared to previous scans for any changes or progression of problems.

So, this poem is a bit weird, and a bit allegorical – hopefully it’s not too difficult to work out what it’s all about!

Now, Eyeball was a mean old town,
A perilous place to be!
An evil trio ruled the roost –
The Rhettin Hopper Three!

They ran the bar ‘The Sugar Vole’
And challenged any man
Who dared to drink their whisky sour
To see straight if he can.

Across the road was Inn Sue Lynn,
Whose business once was fine,
Run by a gal called Pam Creeyass,
Now sadly in decline.

The sheriff of that sorry place,
A man called Mack Yoolar,
Was powerless to uphold the law,
Despite his sheriff’s star.

And then one hot and dusty day,
A stranger came to town,
Confronted by the Hopper gang,
Who laid the challenge down!

‘Don’t listen!’, cried out Pam Creeyass,
‘Their drink affects your sight!
It’s cheap and nasty syrupy stuff
That turns the day to night!’

The sheriff stumbled across the road
And took the stranger’s arm.
‘I’ll lock you in the Beta Cells,
To keep your eyes from harm!’

The stranger shrugged the sheriff off
And drew aside his coat.
The crowd all gasped, they knew the score,
His chances were remote.

He walked into The Sugar Vole
And scrutinised the scene.
He saw the jars of whisky where
The soft drinks should have been…

Rhettin Hopper taunted him,
‘No stranger frightens me!
As long as we have whisky here,
This town will ne’er be free!’

The stranger drew his gun real fast,
And in a flash of light,
Each vessel stored behind the bar
Was blasted out of sight!

‘You’ve saved us all!’ cried Pam Creeyass,
‘And now that we are free,
There’ll be no future in this town
For the Rhettin Hopper Three!’

And so, the stranger married Pam,
And they became sheep farmers,
They reared some tiny Andean sheep,
Called micro-vascu llamas!

Bolus for a biscuit!

I’m in two minds about insulin pumps. I can get through my days reasonably well and my blood sugar levels are extremely good. But since I became tied to only eating if I inject, and only exercising if my levels are just right, then worrying afterwards if they’ll fall too low because the basal insulin I injected 12 hours ago is now too high – I’ve been becoming more and more seduced by the flexibility that a pump would bring. The downside for me at the moment is whether I really want to be permanently attached and dependent on a sophisticated electronic device. Injections seem to be so much simpler, but do limit your lifestyle considerably compared to a non-diabetic’s. Pumps can make such tiny and rapid adjustments that they much more closely mimic a fully-functioning pancreas. However, because of the expense involved, it’s unlikely to be a choice I’ll have to make any time soon…

One hundred and twenty five monthly injections,
One thousand, five hundred a year,
And virtual abstention from sugary confections –
Now which do you think you’d prefer?

If your other choice was, instead of a pen,
To wear a device day and night
That pumped constant insulin under your skin,
Can you say? Do you think that you might?

What if the tubing should get pulled loose
As you toss and turn in your bed?
Or coils itself into a hangman’s noose,
And then you should wake up dead?!

Imagine though, if you were offered some cake,
When at one time you wouldn’t dare risk it,
The tiny increments you’d be able to make –
And bolus for a biscuit!

So if your levels swing from low to high,
Or possibly go ballistic!
Then let electronic wizards show you why
The future’s optimistic!

The Three A.M. Club

Low blood sugar can occur at any time of day or night, but it can be the night-time ones that are the most troubling, as often the symptoms do not awaken a sleeping person so that the hypo can be treated. It can be especially worrying for parents of a diabetic child, as you might imagine. For this reason, it is often suggested that blood sugar levels should be tested during the night to ensure that levels are not dropping too low. Generally speaking, three in the morning is when levels are likely to be at their lowest, so this is the most appropriate time for testing – what fun! Imagine all those bleary-eyed adults and sleepy children being pinged with a finger-pricker just at the time when you’re all comfy and snug and dreaming your favourite dream – oh what fun to be a member of the Three a.m. club!

At dead of night when all are sleeping,
Shadows through the room come creeping,
Seeking blood from those who slumber,
Hoping for a perfect number.

What beasts are these, with hair so wild,
Who would disturb a sleeping child?
What brings them at this witching hour?
What misbegotten, ghostly power?

Some phantom from the nether lands
With sharpened lancets in their hands?
A ghoulish, half-lit apparition,
Intent on some demonic mission…

In other houses, adults sleep –
For them, their slumber is so deep
Alarms will wake them with a shock…
Synchronised at Three O’ Clock!

Three is not a time for resting!
Three’s the time for glucose testing!
Join us till we sleep again,
The club that meets at Three A.M….!

The Pump-O-Dyne Eight

There’s a lot of talk about insulin pumps these days. Over in the US, they are fairly common as they tend to be financed by private health insurance, but in the UK it can be quite a battle to get them funded on the National Health Service – you have to prove that you would benefit significantly from having one, rather than using the much cheaper method of MDI (Multiple Daily Injections – now sometimes called BB, or Basal-Bolus). Usually, that would mean that you were finding it very difficult to get control of your blood sugar levels, leaving you at greater risk of diabetic complications.

I have very good control, so the only way I would probably be considered for one would be if, say, a rock-bottom model were to emerge that cut costs significantly. If probably wouldn’t be as elegant as some of the more expensive models, and possibly a bit more unwieldy. Probably something along these lines…

Hello, will you sit down? I’ve something to say.
You remember about pumping? How we said we can’t pay?
Well, I’m happy to tell you that we have found a way,
For a new pumping company has entered the fray!

Now, please don’t be shocked, for I know it looks cheap,
But the cost of those others would just make you weep!
And we’d love to provide them if the costs weren’t so steep…
So, just close your eyes now – and promise you won’t peep!

Tada! There you have it! The Pump –O-Dyne Eight!
With its own little trolley (because of the weight),
And here is the thing that straps onto your back,
With the steam-powered motor in its own special pack…

Now here, let me hold that, and you climb aboard!
Let’s get you strapped in with this thick nylon cord…
Don’t spill that jug where the insulin’s stored!
Come on! Are you thrilled? Let's hear you applaud!

Things that go low in the night…

In the early days after my diagnosis I would frequently wake up with a thumping headache – and that, without the benefit of an over-indulgence in alcohol! It took me a little while to realise that what was happening was that my blood sugar levels were falling very low during the night, but recovering by the morning. At that time I was on 20 units of Lantus as my slow-acting insulin and, although it is not supposed to have a ‘peak’ in its action profile, it seemed that for me it was peaking around 2-3 hours after taking the injection.

The first step was to determine if I truly was dropping low during the night. For me, the symptoms are very different from a daytime hypo. During the day I would get hot and cold sweats, thumping heartbeat, shaky limbs and hands, and blurry vision. At night, as far as I’m aware, I just sleep through it – but then wake with that headache. Some people experience a ‘bounce’, so that the levels are much higher in the morning than expected. I don’t – I’ve always woken up ‘in range’. So, the only way I could find out what was happening was to do the dreaded 3 a.m. tests. Sure enough, I found that I was often dropping low at this time. Gradually, over a period of weeks, I adjusted my Lantus dose, observing and recording the effects. It seemed that, every time I reduced it, it needed reducing further – I began to think I had hit on a bizarre ‘cure’!

Now, I’m happy to say, my overnight levels seem to be completely stable after reducing my Lantus by 55%. But that’s for now, with diabetes, you never truly know what might happen tomorrow…

Things that go low in the night…

Things that go bump in the night will often alarm us and give us a fright,
But since diagnosis, there’s one thing I’ve found –
It’s not the creaks and the rattles that make my heart pound,
But something quite different, if control is too tight,
And that’s when my levels go low in the night…

Things that go low in the night: the temperature’s one, due to lack of the Sun…
And because there’s no Sun, then you’ll find there’s less light,
For despite it’s best efforts the Moon’s not as bright
But it’s none of these ‘lows’ that would give me a fright,
It’s a dip in my sugars, or the thought that they might!

So I’ve worked on my basal, and I’ve tuned it so fine
That my overnight levels stay just over the line,
But there’s always that chance, it’s a diabetic’s plight
That out of the blue, I’ll go low in the night…

Glycoraptors and sugar sloths

I had an awful hypo the other day. Mostly, when my blood sugar is falling it’s a slow, gradual sensation, and my symptoms of dizziness, shaking, and heart a-thumping increase over a period of minutes. When this happens I can usually just treat with a couple of jelly babies and a biscuit, and I’m fine. On this occasion however, it all started happening within seconds – I was guzzling down jelly babies to no effect and felt as though I was sliding down out of control. I decided I shouldn’t be on my own, so went next door to my neighbour’s and she made me some sweet tea which finally seemed to do the trick.

It was scary, and without any real explanation – and thankfully a rare occurrence! But it did get me thinking about possible causes…

If you’ve got diabetes then there’s one thing you should know,
That one of two things happens if you feel yourself go low:
Number one is gradual, like surfing on molasses,
It creeps down slow in tiny steps, inexorably as time passes.

The other plummets like a stone – not dropped, but thrown with force,
And speeding ever deeper down, you cannot change its course…
Or so it seems, when remedies that once worked seem to fail,
With planning and with luck, you will, and live to tell the tale.

‘How can this be?’, I hear you say, ‘How can there be two sorts?’
This question too had troubled me, in my dreams and waking thoughts,
Until I met a wise old man who knew about them both,
‘It’s because of Glycoraptors, and the lazy Sugar Sloths.’

‘Now, rarely does a Glycoraptor get inside your blood,
But given all the sugar there, he’d live there if he could!
He’s not like other dinosaurs, those massive frightening beasts –
He’s tiny, and there’s nothing more he likes than sugar feasts.’

‘So, if you spot a toadstool whilst you’re walking through the wood,
Be careful not to pick your nose, for it is understood
They jump from toadstools up your snout and burrow their way in,
And make you shake and shiver as they crawl beneath your skin!’

‘And once inside your bloodstream, with voracious appetites,
They’ll gobble up the glucose till there’s nothing left in sight!
You’ve got to fill their bellies up, and then their hunger fades –
But quickly, and the best thing is some lemon lucozade!’

‘And Sugar Sloths?’, I then enquired, ‘Why, you should always keep
Some Jelly Babies in your bag – it sends them straight to sleep!’
So now you know, if you go low, the reason for the fall –
If it’s fast, it’s Glycoraptors, if it’s slow, a sloth that’s small!’

Disgusted nurse gets just desserts

More escapades in the life of the nurse who found the idea of people with diabetes injecting in restaurants abhorrent. Imagine if, one evening, she was in a restaurant that just happened to be filled with insulin-dependent diabetics…imagine her horror…!

Disgusted nurse gets just desserts

The scene: Luigi’s restaurant in downtown Birkenhead,
Full of hungry diners all waiting to be fed,
And there, amongst their number, a very special guest,
The nurse who failed her 101 would face another test…

The customers chatted pleasantly, as wine was passed around,
Our nurse was unaware of how her evening would be crowned…
A secret nod, a knowing wink, would all ensure the plan
Co-ordinated smoothly by each woman and each man.

Spaghetti carbonara and lasagne were brought in,
And all at once was silence – you could have heard a pin!
The nurse’s ears pricked up to hear a host of tiny clicks
As a hundred insulin users prepared to take their fix…!

Airshot after airshot was squirted in the air,
Like tiny dancing fountains from each and every chair!
And then the men exposed the flesh that lay beneath their shirts,
The ladies smiled as they pulled down the waistband of their skirts!

The nurse just stared in horror as the needles all went in,
And pierced the fatty layers that lay beneath the skin!
Well, then she just exploded, it was more than she could stand!
And now she’s pushing daisies up in Nighty-night Nurse Land!

Nurse Unbalanced

Diabetes UK took the rather unwise (in my opinion) editorial decision to allow further space in their ‘Balance’ magazine for the nurse who had previously ranted against people with diabetes injecting in restaurants. In this latest letter she reached a new level of apoplexy, insulting, deriding and attacking those who had responded to her original tirade of vitriolic nonsense. I think the thing that hurt most people that I have spoken to was that DUK should choose to perpetuate her views in a publication whose intent should surely be to provide support and backing for people with diabetes. Moreover, the fact that the letter writer was a nurse (thankfully now retired), might have suggested a greater tolerance and more caring attitude.

This is what I expect in the next issue of Balance from ‘the Nurse’ who will no doubt by then be afforded her own regular column in which she can freely castigate those self-centred junkie diabetics…

You can’t be human if you think
Injecting where I eat and drink
Is something that you can’t avoid,
You’re junkies and you’re paranoid!

And don’t tell me to look away,
I’m nosy and I’ll have my say!
You might as well just slit your throat,
Or hang a sacrificial goat!

Would you display your toilet parts?
Or fill the room with noisy farts?
Or flick your bogies round the room?
You diabetics make me fume!

Of all these things that trouble me –
All anti-social you’ll agree,
But diabetics shooting up
Wins the ‘Nurse Disgusted’ Cup!

So thank you Balance for this page,
Where I can vent my frequent rage,
I’m sure your readers all agree
They’re all disgusting, just like me!

Little Harry Hypo

Having diabetes isn’t fun, and it can be particularly hard for children who just want to blend in with their peers. Even harder, then, for the parents who have to worry about keeping their children safe from ‘hypos’ – when the blood sugar levels fall too low and need rapid treatment with something sweet to raise them again, or risk possible diabetic coma. The best way to reduce that parental stress is to be confident in the little one’s ability to keep his levels ‘within range’, neither too low or too high, and the best way for that to happen is for him to learn about food and how it affects him, and how to give an appropriate dose of insulin for the meal he is about to eat.

Here in the UK there is an education programme called ‘DAFNE’ (Dose Adjustment For Normal Eating) that teaches insulin-dependent diabetics what they need to do to achieve good blood sugar control…

Little Harry Hypo

Little Harry Hypo had a horrid, horrid hat –
His mother made him wear it if he went to chase the cat!
And also, playing cricket, if it was his turn to bat,
I imagine you’d have sympathy if you lived your life like that!

The hat said ‘Diabetic’ in letters large and red,
And when he wore it in the street he wished that he was dead!
‘It’s so that all the people know’, his loving mother said,
‘That if you conk out on the floor, then what you should be fed!’

Now Harry thought that there must be a better way to live –
He felt that he was normal – so much he had to give!
‘I won’t let this stand in my way, I’ll be more positive!’
And so to ditch the hat became the boy’s main objective…

A lovely nurse called Dafne was his saviour in his plight,
She made him study all his food in order that he might
Learn how each food affects him, get his insulin just right,
And now his basal’s sorted no more hypos in the night!

Now Harry doesn’t wear a hat, but just a golden tag,
He’s always sure to carry jelly babies in his bag,
He never thought he’d spend a day his mother didn’t nag –
But now the hat shines shoes and stuff – it’s just another rag!

Please, Mr Food Man

My eyesight’s not bad for my age – it’s only in the past couple of years that I’ve started needing glasses for reading occasionally, if the light’s not good or the text too small. But something that has become apparent to me since my diabetes diagnosis is that food labelling leaves a lot to be desired. It’s important to me to know how much carbohydrate is in a particular foodstuff, so that I can adjust my insulin doses accordingly. Some labelling though, has such tiny writing that it’s only discernible with a magnifying glass! Usually, it’s because the manufacturer is trying to conceal a high sugar content. This is particularly true if the item is ‘low fat’ or ‘virtually fat free’ – the sugar takes the place of the fat but the purchaser is led to believe that the item is ‘healthy’. Why can’t we have more honesty?

Please Mr Food Man

I spy with my little eye,
A hundred food labels that just pass me by
Perhaps, Mr Food Man, you could explain why
The writing’s so small as if hiding a lie.

In bright coloured letters, and bold as can be
The packet says ‘I’m healthy! And almost fat-free!!
But in tiny black letters you can hardly see
Is an excess of sugar that’s harmful to me.

Oh please, Mr Food Man, I’m not being rude!
Why can’t you be honest in labelling food?
If this was America, you’d likely be sued
For hiding the facts with a method so crude.

So, buck your ideas up and please make it clear
That your food’s really healthy, we’ve nothing to fear!
It would make our lives easier and fill us with cheer,
And perhaps, if you did it, we’d buy you a beer!

Low G.I. bread

As a person with diabetes, I’m aware that in order to keep good, even blood sugar levels it’s helpful to eat foods with a low glycaemic index (low GI). A friend related a story about how her local baker was offering ‘Low GI’ bread and, out of devilment, she thought she would go in and see if they knew what ‘GI’ meant…

Low G.I. bread

Down at the bakers, I’ve heard it’s been said,
There’s a good special offer on Low GI bread.
So I put on my coat and set off down the road
For something to lower my glycaemic load.

And there in the window in prominent view
Was a sign confirming what I’d been told was true:
‘Live your life healthy, for you’re a long time dead –
Come in and sample our Low GI bread!’

The devil inside me said ‘I wonder if they know?
They say ‘Low GI’, but what makes it so?’
So I questioned the counter girl, would she comply?
She looked rather puzzled, then gave this reply…

‘Well, the ‘Low’ means there’s less, and the ‘I’ means ‘Inside’,
But as for the ‘G’ I can’t really decide…
Could it be Garlic or Ginger or Goat?
Or (scraping the barrel!) a Gloucestershire stoat?’

‘Or Gherkins or Grapefruit, or maybe Goosefat?’
I suggested ‘Glycaemic?’ – ‘No, I don’t think it’s that –
Gammon? Or Gumbo? Or Guava? Or Gin?’
(She was beginning to wish that I hadn’t come in!)

Then a lady beside me said ‘Why would I pay more
For bread that has less of what went in before?’
That caused the girl’s listing of ‘G’ things to stop,
So we both turned round briskly and vacated the shop!

Finger-pricking chicken

It’s no fun having to test your blood 6 times a day!

Finger-pricking chicken

It’s not that I’m a chicken
I just hate that finger pricking,
And now the clock is ticking
Till it’s finger pricking time!

All the companies say they’re blameless,
‘For our lancets are quite painless’
But I think they are all shameless
For the feeling’s not sublime!

I could show them my contusions,
For that needle-sharp protusion
Causes pain that’s no illusion,
I feel sure that you’ll agree.

I know it sounds pathetic
But I’d like an anaesthetic!
Wish I wasn’t diabetic,
Then I’d really be pain-free!

Oh, I wish I was a fishy in the Aitch-beeay-one Sea!

All people with diabetes will be familiar with the HbA1c blood test, which measures the average blood glucose saturation over the previous 6-12 weeks. Ideally, this should be in the region of 5 to 6 percent if potential diabetic complications are to be avoided…

Oh, I wish I was a fishy in the Aitch-beeay-one Sea!
With a sugar content of five percent – that’s where I’d love to be!
Imagine all the freedom you would feel when you were roaming
In the blood-red flowing currents of glycated haemoglobin!
Free from fear of frightening things, like losing sight or losing limbs,
To rest assured and confident – with five percent I’d be content!

The Rude Receptionists

We’ve all met doctor’s receptionists that are rude and unhelpful from time to time. They’re not all like that, of course, but I heard of a recent incident where a diabetic patient was attempting to hand in a sharps bin (a sealed, plastic bucket for storing used needles and lancets) at her doctor’s surgery…

The Rude Receptionists

‘I’ve filled up my sharps bin, can I give it to you?’
‘I’m not sure if we take them, I don’t think that we do!
I’ll just wait for Elsie, till she’s done on the phone,
I don’t want to make the decision alone.’

‘Ah look! See, she’s finished – Elsie, what do you think?
If we took in this sharps bin, would they kick up a stink?’
‘No, I don’t think we take them, we ought to ask Kate…
I don’t think she’s here yet, she’s coming in late.’

‘Do you think you could come back when there’s more of us here?
We can’t make the decision, I know it sounds queer.
It’s more than our job’s worth! When we got employed
We were told all the things we’re supposed to avoid.’

‘Like being efficient, polite and at ease,
We’re supposed to ignore you and do as we please.
And if you get angry and kick up a fuss,
We’ll tell all and sundry that you wear a truss!’

‘And if you should happen to come in here ill
We’ll make you stand waiting – it gives us a thrill!
There’ll be no appointments if you need to be seen –
We’re supposed to be grumpy, obstructive and mean.’

‘Could you move to the side please? I think I saw Kate!
Perhaps you’d move quicker if you lost some of that weight!
Ah Kate! Can you tell me before you go in,
Do you ever remember us taking a bin?’

‘I don’t think we take them.’ ‘No, that’s what I thought.’
‘Be patient now, madam, please don’t get distraught!’
‘Perhaps if we rang up Elaine in supplies?’
‘She might not have time – she’s up to her eyes!’

‘Oh please will you take it? I’ve been here an hour!
Perhaps I could talk to someone with more power?’
‘There’s Dr. Fitzmichael, I think he will know…
Too late – that’s his Volvo! I just saw it go!’

‘Well…perhaps we could take it, and when he gets back
We’ll find out if that’s why Janine got the sack…
No! Don’t pass it over! I might get infections!
We have to take care with all our collections!’

‘Elsie, pass me those gloves, and Kate - you watch out!
You have to be careful with addicts about!
That is why you’ve got this? Because you take drugs?
I wouldn’t let your type drink out of our mugs!’

‘Now, pass it me slowly, are you sure it’s tight shut?
Imagine of one of those stuck in my foot!
Goodbye! No, you’re welcome – I hope that you’ve learned
We’d rather this wasn’t where your bins are returned…!’

Good Intentions

If you want to keep good blood sugar control when you have diabetes, it’s a good idea to keep a record of the various factors that can have an influence on levels...only problem is, there are an alarming number of things to consider!

Good Intentions

Today I thought that I should start
A diabetic diary
Recording things that are of use
On subsequent inquiry.

To start with I would need to list
My levels through the day –
Before and after meals and sleep
And work, and rest, and play…

And if the day was different
Due to unexpected stress,
Like if someone should visit when
The house was in a mess!

I’d have to keep a record of
The type of food I ate,
And how much carbohydrate
Per one hundred grams of weight.

And do I count the milk in all those
Many mugs of tea?
And should I count the polyols
If the chocolate’s sugar-free?

And what about activity -
Did I go for a run?
Or sprawl out on the couch all day,
Deciding that’s more fun?

And was the weather hot or cold,
And did I stay indoors?
And if I did, did I complete
A hundred household chores?

So many things to think about
Of each and every kind!
I think I’ll find another way
To occupy my mind…!

Pretty Polly Yureeya

This was prompted by the often heard phrase ‘I could pee for England!’ when people are talking about their pre-diagnosis (and it seems, often overlooked) diabetes symptom of polyuria, which is the need to urinate copiously and often. Raised blood sugar levels cause the body to try and flush out the excess glucose, which causes dehydration and, as a consequence, increased thirst. The symptom can be eased in some people with Type 2 diabetes by a combination of diet and exercise which bring the blood sugar levels under control and make the body’s use of insulin more efficient…

Pretty Polly Yureeya

Now, pretty Polly Yureeya
Had a rare, unwanted skill –
She could pee and pee all day and night,
But never drink her fill!

Her doctor wasn’t helpful,
Her symptoms made him pause,
He wracked his brains and wrung his hands,
But couldn’t find their cause.

‘But don’t despair, dear Polly,
Now hush your quivering lips!
I suggest you pee for England
In the World Pee Championships!

She thought about the honour,
The glory and the fame!
From this day on she felt her life
Would never be the same!

‘I’ll probably need coaching
To make me fit and lean,
And be the greatest pee’er
The world has ever seen!’

And so, she hired a trainer,
A dedicated man,
Who would devise without delay
A diet and fitness plan.

Each day the pair went running,
And slowly, mile by mile,
He wore down her resistance with
The sweetness of his smile.

It was a shock to realise
How sensitive she became –
Each fibre of her being flushed
At the mention of his name!

As her prepared with tenderness
Each fat-free, healthy meal,
She thought, ‘I must come clean with him,
And tell him how I feel!’

So she declared undying love
And made her feelings clear,
But found that she no longer was
A world-class champion pee’er!

It seems that with her healthy ways
Her prowess had declined,
But with her new love, Hin Soolyn,
She really didn’t mind!

Nursing 101

Diabetes UK stirred up quite a controversy when they published a letter in their magazine ‘Balance’ from a nurse who said that the sight of diabetics injecting in public places was ‘disgusting’. It’s not the greatest thing in the world to have to inject insulin every time you want to eat, but it’s certainly not made any easier when we read of such intolerance and lack of understanding – particularly from a member of the ‘caring’ profession. Injecting is done discreetly, usually with tiny needles on pen devices, and should draw censure no more than an asthmatic using an inhaler, or a person blowing their nose into a handkerchief. To be sure, there are people who are scared of the sight of needles, but these aren’t huge hypodermics, they are barely discernible – particularly across a crowded restaurant. Here’s what I imagined about our ‘nurse’…

Nursing 101

‘You’ve been a nurse for some time now,
So, let’s put you to the test.
We’ll give you some scenarios,
And you say which one’s best.’

‘You’re in a busy restaurant
And see across the way
A person injecting insulin.
What do you think you’d say?’

‘Would you, (a) Think it’s disgusting,
And should be out of sight?
Or (b) Think ‘What’s the problem?
I think that that’s alright.’?’

‘My goodness! You are seething!
Your face and neck’s gone red!
I think you’d better lie down!
Can someone find a bed?!!’

‘And now you’re spitting feathers!
And you can hardly speak!
You’re going apoplectic!
You’re staring like a freak!’

‘What was that you just spluttered?
They should be in a cage?
Don’t think a nurse has ever shown
Such incandescent rage!’

‘Now, calm down dear, and listen.
I think this test is done,
And you have failed, without a doubt,
Your Nursing 101!’

The Tale of Milly Mole

Ever wondered what goes on inside those blood-testing meters that diabetics use to find out what’s happening with their blood sugar levels? All is revealed…

People with diabetes generally know that testing meters measure blood glucose in mmol/l (millimoles per litre), except in the US, where they use different units – but then this poem wouldn’t really work with milligrams per decalitre! For those that are unfamiliar with diabetes, insulin works as a kind of key that ‘unlocks’ receptors in cells to allow energy to be stored. Type 2 diabetics may produce their own insulin but their cells are resistant to it. Type 1 diabetics produce no insulin of their own, so must inject it or use an insulin pump…

The Tale of Milly Mole

Once upon a time
In a little earthen hole,
Lived a tiny little creature
Whose name was Milly Mole.

She had a thousand cousins who,
If laid limb to limb,
Could fill a litre measuring jug
Right up to the brim!

Their life was one of tedium
Within the mole-filled lands,
Until one day they chanced upon
A scientist wringing his hands.

He said, ‘My goodness, look at you!
You’re just the perfect size
For me to measure sugar voles –
I can’t believe my eyes!’

‘What do you mean?’ said Milly Mole
And all her cousins too,
‘We’d never even heard of sugar voles
Till we met you!’

‘Let me explain’, the scientist said,
‘And all will soon be clear.
The sugar voles live in the blood
And are a source of fear.’

‘They like to live in people’s cells
But sometimes can’t get in
Because they need to wear a coat
Of shiny insulin.’

‘There are some people who produce
Some droplets of this stuff
But as their cells have sticky doors
It’s never quite enough’

‘For some, their poor old Pancreas
Has given up the ghost,
And they produce no insulin
For when they need it most.’

‘The sugar voles remain outside
And there their numbers grow,
But if they cannot count them all,
The people never know.’

‘There used to be a way if they
Could pee upon a stick –
But it wasn’t very sociable,
And it wasn’t very quick!’

‘And so I’ve made a meter which,
With just a drop of blood,
Can count up all the sugar voles,
Or, at least it could…’

‘I need something to live inside
And, when the blood comes in,
To count how many sugar voles
Can balance on a pin!’

‘And when you know, dear Milly Mole,
How many voles you’ve seen,
Why, then you’d type the number up
And show it on a screen!’

‘The people then would know the truth,
And they could make a start
To save their kidneys, eyes and limbs,
And hopefully, their heart!’

Well, Milly and her family
Said they could hardly wait
To help the humans count their voles –
They thought it would be great!

So, when you take that drop of blood
And place it on the meter,
Remember please, the Milly Moles –
A thousand to the litre!

Ode to a Perfect Pancreas

I hadn’t realised just how much my pancreas did for me until it stopped working properly and I became a Type 1 diabetic. What a thing of beauty a fully-functioning pancreas is!

Ode to a Perfect Pancreas

Oh Pancreas, perfect Pancreas,
Oh will you please be mine?
And let me feel the touch of your
Secretions endocrine?

My own dear pancreas failed me
And has left me in the lurch
What can I do to make you mine
And end my ceaseless search?

I love your Islets of Langerhans,
Suffused with treasured stores
Of beta cells, all working well,
A credit to their cause!

The insulin that you put forth,
Oh! If it only could
Restrict the upper limits of
The sweetness in my blood!

You’d be the organ of my dreams,
I’d always treat you well,
And if I could I’d lavish love
On each and every cell!

Oh please, O perfect pancreas,
Your functioning’s divine,
So let me be the one for you –
Your Type 1 Valentine!