A good hard knitting session

As a type 1 diabetic there are many things that frustrate me about the condition; kinked cannulas, ignorant comments, doctors surgery staff (who seem to get paid to raise by blood pressure), people who assume I got it because I was fat (nope, I just love pies) and when my pump has been warning for hours that I'm about to run out of insulin, yet i somehow still forget it and end up going high, to name a few. But perhaps the most frustrating situation for me as a diabetic, is exercise.

There is no exercise which is bad for you and the truth is everybody out there, diabetic or not, should be exercising. Our ancestors didn't get us here by watching 'Come Dine with Me or 'CSI: Miami'. Instead they exercised. A lot. We are taught that any exercise is better than none and we are constantly bombarded in the media by images of morbidly obese people who we are told didn't make the effort to do enough exercise.

But for me exercise has such dramatic effects on my sugars that it is the last great paradox when it comes to my diabetes self-management. This is because when I do gentle exercise, my sugars go down. But with strenuous exercise, they go up. They go up a lot. The technical reason for this is that when you exercise gently, your body uses up the glucose in your body as fuel. However, when you increase the intensity, you put your body into 'fight or flight' mode. The stress of that exercise tells your body (as our Come Dine with Me watching ancestors knew) that you either need to wrestle that mammoth to the ground, or run the hell away from it! What happens, is your body releases adrenaline and cortisol in order to provide you with an extra boost of energy. Unfortunately these two hormones also blunt the body's response to insulin. In a nutshell, it means that when I do something as intense as body combat (a new love of mine and the most intense workout I have ever done) a few hours after the workout, my blood sugars go through the roof, thanks to the tiger-tackling adrenaline my body released earlier, which subdued my insulin response.

The frustration is that even though the exercise benefits me so greatly by increasing my heart rate, strengthening my heart, lungs and muscles and providing that all important circulation boost, the blood sugars of 15mmol (270 mg/dl) when the normal range is 4-7mmol means that all my other body parts such as nerve endings, kidneys and eyes are now being damaged by the excess sugar in my blood stream. Added to this, if I now correct that high blood sugar, that sugar which is in excess to what my body needs, will be stored as fat. Slightly frustrating considering I just hurled myself around a room for an hour for the purpose of improving my health and losing weight.

You could argue that I should just always go for a walk or gentle jog. But for me, when I exercise I like to really feel like I've exercised. A gentle stroll feels about as challenging to me as a good hard knitting session or a really vigorous deep breath! I like to come out shaking, a little light-headed, covered in sweat and itching to come back tomorrow.

Well after several weeks of Sunday morning body combat followed by horrendously high sugars, for the first time today after 4 weeks of trying, I actually got somewhere. Through a process of experimentation, over the last month I have amended just one thing each time to see what might help. I won't go through each week because I've already rambled on enough, but I thought you may find it useful to know that I started this morning off at 8mmol (a little high for me) and am now stable at 7.5mmol (a first after combat). The key for me was:

• Eat some protein 1-2 hours before I go. I choose and omelette with turkey ham and cheese
• Take the pump off as late as possible before starting the exercise.
• Test Blood Glucose (BGs) regularly throughout
• Put the pump back on asap after the class (previous weeks I left if at home. This time I took it with me)
• Bolus 2.5 units on finishing (please note this figure is ABSOLUTELY INDIVIDUAL to me! I know this because it is the ratio I need to bring me down from 15 which is where I have been in the past after the class - please do not copy this without knowing your own correction ratio).

So far since the class I have not moved from 7 which as far as I am concerned is a huge 'win'. Next week will be the big test because if I know my diabetes, I will have a job keeping everything the same from week to week. But it is a start. And a good one at that.

Donning our Lycras

Fundraising can be something of a tricky issue especially in these times, because while most people are happy to give money to a charity close to their heart, simply walking about with a charity collection box won't always cut it. Yes, you may collect some £££s from members of the public you approach in the street but having done it myself, you feel more as though people are paying you to go away rather than happily supporting your efforts. They will often only give a few pence and they certainly won't want to learn about the charity you are collecting for and rarely care which disease, condition or cause you are supporting.

Personally I too would rather pay £50 to take part in an activity or event which I can feel part of, over dropping a couple of pounds I won't really miss into a box I haven't really even taken notice of for a charity I probably didn't identify. You know what they say, nothing comes for free.

So I was rather pleased when I found out that the blast-off bootcamp gang had decided to run a boot-camp for which all proceeds would go to the Diabetes Research and Wellness Foundation. This sounded right up my street and it wasn't long before I had my fellow boot-campees with me in the form of the fiance Jamie and the work-mate Nicole, who in turn brought her daughter Tarron. I roped them all in and signed them up to a Sunday morning on Southsea common. The plan: Sweating our backsides off for diabetes

We arrived to find Sarah from DRWF already there and raring to go along with about 4 or 5 others, all of whom seemed to be much more on first name terms with Mr Fitness than me and my little gang! But nevertheless before long there must have been 16 of us all donning our Lycras, limbered up and ready to go

The first half of the session was made up of circuit training style exercises like squats, lunges, star jumps, burpees (yowzer!) and wobbles (do NOT be deceived, they may sound cute, but they are certainly not!). After about circuit one or two Nicole was already throwing me looks which said "You owe me cakes on Monday my friend!" and the two of us exchanged regular "oh my god's" and "I'm not sure I can get up from here's". But the giggles shared between us as we failed yet another press-up or made funny noises during sit ups was in itself, good for the soul.

For the second half of the session we moved outside to play a series of games like stuck in the mud (remember that? Well Blast Off are bringing it back!) and a game where we all stood in a circle with joined arms while someone had to chase a basketball bib which was attached to someone in the group. While we were out there I kept noticing people looking at us as they parked their cars on the seafront no doubt having a gentle Sunday stroll. I imagine they weren't bargaining on a group of 16 smiling, charging and very flushed-faced lunatics bombing around the seafront! As we progressed with our games I felt the briefest moment of embarrassment as I lolloped around the field, but thanks to the fun we were having and the endorphins flying around my body, I didn't care for long. After a fleeting moment of pride, I got back to my task, not getting stuck in the mud!

We finished our session with some stretches and the mandatory group photo which was sprung on us at the moment when we probably looked our worst - but those moments make for the best photos, don't they? :) As Jamie popped in our £20 I felt shattered, but somehow energised and glad that I'd been involved.

So here it is, the photographic evidence. Although it appears the camera may have been wobbling at the time the photo was taken, I expect it is quite the opposite. I expect we were the ones shaking! You can find yours truly over on the right hand side, matching the bright red DRWF t-shirt I was sporting. Nice picture there, Po! And if you are interested in Bootcamp, I would recommend this one where they won't just shove you in the right direction exercise wise, but also give excellent advice about food options and how to eat in a way which looks after our precious bodies that little bit better. They were certainly good enough to dedicate their own time, effort and exertise in support of those of us with a slightly more uphill battle when it comes to looking after ourselves.

Will you be joining us next time?

Dropping in on Parliament

Luckily for me I was dropping in on Parliament a week or so before the whole 'phone-hacking scandal' furore which has gone global so things were a bit quieter when I was up there. But nevertheless I was once again invited by Lesley of INPUT fame, to attend the APPG (All Party Parliamentary Group) for Diabetes which happened to have a lovely meaty topic; the artificial pancreas (AP). I'm afraid this week has been a jam-packed one so this post should have been written a week ago but better late than never, here it is.

I met with Lesley at Waterloo station and as always it took us all of 6 or so seconds before we were both eyeball deep in diabetic rhetoric. Not that I'm complaining of course, seeing as I'm sure by now my work colleagues could calculate their own boluses (doses of fast acting insulin), know not to exercise with blood sugars below 4mmol or above 10mmol and are amazingly well-versed on the finer details of the difference between type 1 and 2 (let's just say 'everything').

I won't go through what an APPG is again, but here is a useful source if you would like to know more about what is going on 'behind the scenes' on the diabetes front, including APPGs. Or I gave a run down of the broad details in my last post about the APPG on Improving Patient Access to Medical Technology.

The actual APPG sadly wasn't nearly as well attended as the newly formed Medical Technology one, but really it was all together a different experience. For starters, the true star of the show was 8 year old Theodore Collins, or 'Theo' as he boldly told us. He is one of the children (52 of them in total, if I remember correctly), currently taking part in one of the very first trials into the AP which is being funded by JDRF (the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation). Theo gave a fantastic presentation about the trials he has been involved in and described the benefits he felt the AP would bring him; including having to worry less during sport and not having to rely on his 'friend', Lucozade. But as wonderful as the presentation was, I think my favourite moment with young Theo was right at the very start of the APPG when I suspended my pump trying to ward off a very well-timed and contextually ironic low blood sugar. Lord Pumpington gave off his tell-tale triple beep with which all Medtronic customers are so familiar, telling me the pump was suspended, only for Theo's head to whip around and catch my eye. As we exchanged knowing glances it was clear - he was on a Medtronic too. "I'd know those beeps anywhere, Lady "his eyes somehow told me.

But moving on, we were also given a presentation by Sarah Johnstone of JDRF Policy and Communications fame, who gave a passionate description of how JDRF have so far put over £50 million into research focussing on the artificial pancreas and would continue to strive for access for all type 1s to insulin pumps. This was an issue which Lesley had gone into the session with on the tip of her tongue, because - as she put so well - if you don't qualify for a pump, surely the artificial pancreas will be completely out of reach. A contentious issue it may be, but Lesley is quite right that all the technology in the world is a fine thing, but if there are people out there who don't fit the NICE bill then that technology will sit on the shelf, only accessed by those with the [bad] numbers or those with the cash.

But perhaps the most interesting talk was given by Dr Daniela Elleri, one of the researchers working on the JDRF AP project. In its fourth year, the results speak for themselves and certainly the overnight periods are showing how vastly improved overnight control is when the technology of the pump, along with the technology of CGM (Continuous Glucose Monitoring) is combined with the technology of the AP. It also described how rather than trying to create some super-system, the project is incorporating already commercially available products such as our well-known friends the Animas Pump and the Dexcom sensors. It will be interesting to see how that side of things goes, as it would just seem to me that we could end up heading down the route of having a 'sponsored system' involving different charities backing different products which aren't available unless you are loaded. I can imagine it now, "Buy your Dex-Mas Artificial Pancreas, only £500 per month to fund - sponsored by JDRF"! Hmmm.

Anyway, cynicism put aside it was very interesting to hear how far along (or actually, how early on!) the studies really are. It showed pictures of children wearing pumps, with CGM attached and mini laptops in reach - poised to adjust the basal levels on the pump at any minute, according to what the CGM dictates. It was clear that the AP itself is still in the very early crude stages and isn't at present even comprised of one single 'unit', but instead makes those in the trial look a little more like a teenager at a computer gaming seminar; happy, but lost amongs the wires, controllers and computers. But the fact that it is being tested on people already is still - I feel - a reassuring indicator that this will hit mainstream treatment one day. I have yet to meet someone who has a background knowledge of or involvement with the AP who hasn't seen it as the biggest development in diabetes in the last 50 years.

It's almost as exciting as the time we moved on from pig insulin. I know. Goose-bumps ay! :)

Finally we had some time to ask questions and discuss a few issues. We drew to a close and Lesley and I went for the post-APPG cup of coffee (now a ritual in itself) and to discuss the session.

After much to-ing and fro-ing and putting the world to rights, we bid each other farewell and went our separate ways. And as I boarded my train and sat myself down, I recognised that feeling creeping in; hope.

Keep watching people, this will happen.

What's the HcA1c Secret?

I've been a type 1 diabetic now (insulin dependent) for almost 25 years now. In that time I have learnt how to carbohydrate count, how to calculate insulin doses, how to change a cannula and fill an insulin pump reservoir. I've learnt a whole diabetic language consisting of words like pre-prandial (before a meal), post-prandial (obvious, really), nephropathy (kidney damage) and retinopathy (eye damage). I've learnt that fruit isn't always good for you and that sometimes even with all the best efforts in the world, blood sugars will just seem to throw the most enormous hissy fit right about the time I have a 'colourful language' moment.

But all in all I consider myself a 'good' diabetic (as opposed to an evil one I suppose) and I spend an inordinate amount of time each day fixated on adjusting this, weighing that and calculating the other. But despite my best and most dedicated efforts, I have never in my living memory achieved an HbA1c of 7%. An HbA1c (so as not to get all technical) is a magic number that us diabetics have to aim towards and measures the amount of Haemoglobin being carried around the body by the red blood cells. Above 7 = bad. Below 7 = good. 6.5 = Mother Teresa.


Well that is a lot easier said than done seeing as normal life as a diabetic can involve more peaks and troughs than a day at Alton Towers and sometimes all before we get out of bed.

So what can equip us to do this? Well, 18 months ago I was given the first tool I could use; the insulin pump. Thanks to the unique ability of the pump to supply insulin tailored to my exact needs - as much as can be - it was the first component which gave me the opportunity to try and lower my A1c. At the time I was 9.6% and heading for complication city (that's actually a place you know, just north of Bullshitville and south west of Scaring People Shit-less), but thanks the the pump, after 6 months and with no changes other than the pump itself, this dropped to 8.2%.


Good job, pumpy!

The next step was the revelation of the low-carb diet and exercise combination which I discovered towards the end of last year, after reading several blogs, online resources and books all about how eating low carb (and I mean LOW!) and exercising regularly in a certain way had helped people to achieve near normal BG results. After a bit of experimenting, this chick was added to the list of converts and low-carb advocates. I don't claim to manage it all the time. Not in the least because sometimes a big plate of carbs can be just as therapeutic as the perfect blood sugar. But I try where possible to pick low carb options and where we are eating a meal with things like pasta and potatoes, I try to have the tiniest amount possible. This helped me get it to 7.9%

But the final (and unfortunately most problematic component) was the fact that two months ago I was invited to take part in a trial of the new Medtronic Enlite sensors and within just three weeks of wearing the sensors, my average blood sugar had dropped from 8.6mmol to 7.4mmol, and my control had tightened immensely. So when my blood was taken for the HbA1c this week, I had been lucky enough to be rocking the three things I think are key to a good HbA1c.

This time, it was 7.1%. Marvellous.

Unfortunatley I no longer have the CGM to help me on my journey, but once the little fan-fare had finished playing in my head and my Oscar -style speech was over, it still sank in that it IS possible to reach that number.

I just have to prove it's possible without CGM now!

HbA1-Freak Out.

Twice a year us pancreatically defective folk have to provide a sample of our finest blood cells in order to have a full MOT and service done. In fact they take 3 full tubes of my finest specimen and if you saw the reaction I give, you would know that I am very protective of those three little tubes (they don't feel little, that's for sure). But I do get a little reassurance from these. Not from the results actually, because if you are anything like me you have to all but bribe your GP/Specialist/Nurse into explaining exactly what things like 'electrolytes' and 'triglycerides' are. The result I don't actually get too involved in. If they call me in for a chat after, I need to change something. If not, I'm good. That may sound a cop out, but when you analyse numbers all day, knowing exactly how many triglycrides you have per milligram or decilitre - and what that actually means - seems unnecessary.

The reassurance I get is from the fact that whoever is unfortunate enough to be waiting to give their special donation to the blood collectors, will probably chuckle to themselves at regular intervals for the rest of the day about that funny young lady at the clinic (yes, young!).

From start to finish my visit at the phlebotomy clinic goes something like this:

(Waiting room) Take ticket, realise I have to wait. Fiddle, huff, puff, fiddle, squirm, stand, make funny noise, bargain with Jamie to let me do it 'next week' through using washing up/housework/sexual favours/good old fashioned begging. Touch arm, freak out about having just touched arm, squirm, huff, eye sight goes a little funny, think I might faint, come back round, bargain again, look at strangers with sort of desperate look on face as though I might offer to do all their washing up for the rest of the week if I am allowed to leave. Squirm, huff, puff.

I go on like this for however long I am in there for with increasing intensity until I am finally called into the phlebomotist's room. Avoiding looking at ANYONE who is mid blood test I head straight for the person who appears free and launch straight into a 'I'm afraid I am a bit of a wimp when it comes to this" and explain my bad experiences as a kid speech, all the while squirming and breathing slightly 'horror-flickishly'. I hope that my bad memories will appeal the the nurses good nature, because frankly I NEED them to be nice to me! They have a massive needle and the ability to jab! It could be Hitler taking my blood and I would still be nice to them at this point.

Throughout my blood test career I have always considered myself the worst patient you would want on a Monday morning and have taken pleasure in the notion that at least everyone else is likely to have a bit of a laugh at my expense because I make such a fuss (but not in a making everyone else scared way).

Well that was until today. Today I met the lady you would never want to have to give a blood test too!

In the middle of my squirming and bargaining attempts in the waiting room, from the phlebotomist's office there came some of the most world class snot-sobbing, shrieking and desperate crying I have ever heard. Everyone in the waiting room starts looking at each other as though they must be using a sword to get the blood sample, but all the while laughing amongst themselves. Problem is for someone who already hates this process, hearing someone 2 goes in front of you having such a freak out makes me all the more likely to pass out. At this point I am seriously considering just running away. Plain old drop my form and run for the door. Problem is as much as I hate this, it needs to be done.

Luckily for me the lady who took my blood was very sympathetic. She wasn't Hitler, there was no sword involved and she even gave me two biscuits afterwards. Lovely.

It's just a shame it never gets easier.

Snort, drink and smoke your way to an early grave.

I always said that I would write this blog honestly and openly and would never just write according to which posts were most popular to keep the clicks coming in. Nothing frustrates me more than reading blogs where all people talk about is the wonderful DOC (Diabetic Online Community) and how diabetes has made them grow as a person (I don't feel diabetes has made me grow as a person. I MADE ME GROW. Oh and biology had a little to do with it also). Anyway, I always said that I would write about both the good times and the bad, even if the bad is embarrassing (went out for the day without filling up my reservoir a few weeks ago - marvellous fun that one),or funny (thought I'd gone blind during a hypo) or sad (because sometimes, it is just bloody hard).

Well, I have decided to admit a deep, dark, sordid secret about a huge risk I take with my health. I do so because this habit of mine is well and truly ingrained in my behaviour and no matter how hard I try or how many times I read about people getting off it, I simply can't seem to shake it. And as a person who writes a blog and who you may well be listening to when I tell you my story, you need to have all the facts. I hope you can understand.

So, back to my admission. Any guesses?

Cocaine?

Heroin?

Cigarettes?

Marijuana?

Thankfully, my sordid secret relates none of the above. But it does relate to something which causes my sugars to soare each and every time I do it. I have a track record clearer than the shadows on the video of the moon landing. Clearer than the lack of WMDs in Iraq. And clearer than the paper mache on the Roswell 'alien'. Yet I still choose to engage in this activity in a self-destructive way which makes a mockery of the hard work my mother went through to bring my perfect little self into the world.

What is it?

Well, if I told you you should stay away from anything which is packed with anti-oxidants, what would you say? If I told you anything with natural fruit sugar and natural sources of fibre was off-limits, what would you do? If I told you this came from the earth and many countries base their primary economic income on it, what would you think?

Yep, you guess it. Fruit.

I love nothing more than to sink into a giant pot of fruit. Strawberries, blueberries, pineapple, watermelon, honeydew, gala. I could sink my teeth into a blood orange until the cows come home and enjoy every second unflinchingly.

The thing is, if I wasn't afflicted with a defective pancreas and blood sugars who love a good roller coaster style curve I would probably be considered very healthy. I have never in my adult life struggled to get my 5 a day because I love fruit and veg. But the impact of my reckless lifestyle is that my blood sugars - usually relatively stable - go completely haywire.

Every. Time.

My biggest diabetic frustration (other than the fact it picked me in the first place) is that when I eat any kind of fruit I jump from 7.5 - 13mmol (as I have done today). I could take my pancreas, rip it out and go all Tarantino on its ass. Trying to explain to non-D's that fruit is more damaging to a diabetic than a tub of lard is like telling Victoria Beckham that a sandwich never killed anyone and sometimes even accepting it myself is pretty tough. If I didn't need it, my testing kit could easily have been launched from my 4th floor office window today.

Today when I woke up at 6.30am, I was 7.4mmol (133 mg/dl).

At 7.30 before I ate my omellete. I was 7.8mmol (140 mg/dl)

At 9.45, after my omellete and just before I ate (and bolused for) my bowl of fruit , I was 7.0mmol (126 mg/dl).

Then, at 11.15am and after having thoroughly enjoyed my fruit, I was 13mmol (234 mg/dl).

I have read so many accounts of people who pride themselves on having fantastic sugars and swearing by a low carb diet lacking in any fruit, who claim to be healthier than all those who around them. I am sure that I could have kept up that 7.5 trend until dinner tonight had I not wanted that fruit so badly. But that's just it. I want to eat fruit. If we were talking straight up liquorice, sweets, cane sugar and milkshakes I could understand it.

But it's fruit!

I don't know what the answer to this one is and after 24 years, I doubt I ever will. But being honest about the fact that this diabetic issue both infuriates and baffles me, makes it a whole lot easier to manage.

Anna - off to eat a giant piece of melon and screw you Mr D!

Improving Access to Medical Technology

It's no secret that I love all things diabetes. Except having it that is which is no fun whatsoever, by the way. Other than having the odd funny hypo story or day when I get all under my blood sugar levels under 10 (which seems to coincide with a full moon, strangely enough), having diabetes is the biggest challenge I will ever face in my life. Fact. It can be worrying, frustrating, angering, tiring and annoying to say the least. And when you really upset the gods, these happen all at once.

But in recent years I have learnt that if I harness the energy I put into diabetes and channel it the right way I seem to meet fantastic people, I get involved in projects of which I am terrifically proud and I achieve things I wouldn't have thought possible.

This week was one such week. Thanks to an invite from Lesley Jordan from INPUT (the UK's largest patient advocacy service), I was invited up to Westminster to take part in (well, attend more than take part , really) one of the new All Party Parliamentary Groups (APPG) on Improving Patient Access to Medical Technology.

So what do these APPGs do? Well, until yesterday I wasn't sure myself. But with such a distinct and provoking title, I wasn't about to miss this one. After all, I make no secret of being very grateful for being one of the 'lucky' people to benefit from an insulin pump, but also that I find it frustrating that so many others out there are not afforded the same treatment. So with a title promising to make for extremely interesting participation, I gladly accepted Lesley's offer.

After jamming all my work for Tuesday into Monday, I boarded my train and headed for London feeling very excited but also admittedly baffled that I had somehow been invited to such an important event. I met with Lesley at Waterloo, where we had a quick Subway lunch (low carb and blood sugar friendly of course) and made our way to Parliament.

To give you a bit of background on the APPGs, they are a parliamentary group which are set up for any number of reasons and to discuss any range of issues: there is one for diabetes, there is one for climate change, one for dementia, breast cancer and even one for beer (with over 300 MPs in membership, I might add!). The list goes on. In order to set one up you need at least 20 MPs who are willing to be members of the group, which can be both a positive and a negative. The positive is that you can get some real weight behind you (see earlier beer group comment!) and get some big names into the group. The negative (pessimism informs me) is that it would be a mighty fine thing to put your name to, without really having to get deeply involved. But either way, the point of these groups is to discuss an issue, any issue, which deserves appropriate attention and to raise its profile in parliament. It allows those who attend to be better educated on current issues and hopefully in future to bring about change.

OK, that's the groups in a nutshell. Now for the specifics. This APPG appeared to have 21 MPs (including my local Lib Dem MP and Portsmouth City Councillor......) and in attendance were a number of key people professors, NHS Commissioners (the ones making and re-making decisions about your NHS), representatives from NICE (National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence), INPUT and The Chairman of the Medical Technology Group (MTG), Barbara Harpham. And what was the purpose of the group? Well, exactly what it says on the tin: to discuss reasons to improve access to medical technology. This particular meet was focused specifically on Orthopaedics, with fast-paced and fact-packed talks by Professor Peter Kay (no, not the rotund dude who owned the Phoenix Club and toured the country with his mate Paddy), but the President of the British Orthopaedic Association, Professor Tim Briggs (Medical Director of the Royal National Orthopaedic Hospital) and Ros Meek (Director of ARMA, the Arthritis and Muskuloskeletal Alliance).

Now you may think all that sounds great and all, but what does that have to do with Diabetes? Well, a lot it turns out. I arrived thinking this would be an exercise in experiencing what goes on in these kind of parliamentary meetings because frankly, at times we all [quite rightfully] question exactly what our government is doing. But it turns out that Diabetes isn't the only disease whose battles are plagued by NHS red tape and procedural flaws. The talks given highlighted the way in which the NHS is fast becoming an emergency service, rather than a health service and that often treatment is simply not given until people are suffering and complications have developed far beyond those seen at the point of diagnosis.

Sound familiar?

As the meeting progressed, I found myself grunting and nodding along more and more enthusiastically in agreement with the points being raised and if the words 'orthopaedics', 'knees' and 'hips' weren't being used, could easily have mistaken the discussion for one about diabetes. In fact I got so grunty I could even have been mistaken for an MP myself - having become quite used to giving a long "urhurumum" when I heard a point I agreed with. Funny how being in a parliamentary meeting turned me into a little parliamentary sheep.

So, the crux of the matter. Do you get a pump - proven to minimise diabetic complications, improve quality of life and offer much better glucose control - when you are first diagnosed? No, instead we need to be suffering debilitating hypos or have a raised A1c (a sure-fire path to complications). You have to be DAPHNE trained and prepped up to the eyeballs before you are even considered for a pump. In fact, Barabara Harpham summed it up perfectly when she pointed out (even though the discussion was orthopaedics) that in the United States there is a 35% take up of insulin pumps, in Europe the figure is 20% and in the UK, worryingly enough, this figure is just 3.5%. THREE POINT FIVE PERCENT!

The big message I took away from yesterday's meeting was that in fact the battles faced by diabetics are worryingly similar to those faced by every other sector of the NHS. And with the challenges faced at the moment, what new barriers will be introduced in order to cost-cut and penny-save.

It could be easy to walk away from a day like yesterday filled with hope that in the next 5 years every diabetic (even those currently ruled out type 2s) will have access to a pump. But politics is just that, political. It is hard to know who was present yesterday in order to take this issue forward and work towards creating a National Health Service which doesn't just meet basic needs (which we all know on many occasions it doesn't do), but offers services and provides technology which can not only improve the lives of the public, but also save huge amounts (we are talking billions) of pounds long term. As Prof. Tim Briggs kept re-iterating, it is about finding the right treatment for the right patient at the right time.

Yesterday was fascinating and the optimist in me sees such groups as a real opportunity to impress the importance of offering patients appropriate and life-saving medical technologies at the earliest possible stage, rather than how the system currently does it, at the point of no return. But I also have to remember that there were only 30 people in that room yesterday. The job is ours to take this forward and continue to impress on policy-makers the absolute importance of making the most of medical technology.

My biggest question resulting from yesterdays meeting was "What's next?", because I am all too aware that the seemingly passionate involvement of the people there yesterday could go no further than be shelved until the next meeting if we don't keep pressing this issue. But the fact is even if yesterday's meeting only served to educate one or two of the MPs in attendance that medical technology is key in saving money, improving lives (both medically and emotionally) and in creating a National Health System we can be proud of, then it is already an achievement in itself.

But the reassuring thing for me was to see people like Lesley in her absolute element and making a bee-line for the Chair in order to dive in and get straight to the nitty gritty. It was reassuring to see that medical technology - which is ultimately going to be the saving of us - being discussed with such passion, and it was reassuring to see Type 1, which dare I say is often forgotten or overshadowed in the media by Type 2, being given such worthy attention.

To see who else out there is fighting out corner, click here.