Food for thought

About a month ago, I discovered a blog. This in itself isn't anything special, seeing as my Internet D travels often lead me to stumble across others people's stories about their diabetes, either by virtue of recommendations, becoming 'friends' with another person with diabetes online, or via the old fashioned way - browsing. This was no different, I happened upon it with a few simple clicks of the mouse. But there was something different about the content of this blog. Instead of talking CGMs, pumps, frustrations and high points like most other blogs I follow, this blog talked about managing type 1 diabetes without the use of insulin. Now, I have seen my fair share of scams, fraudulent claims and tall tales around any number of so-called cures for diabetes and in all honesty, my initial reaction was that this must be another one. Perhaps they are selling another 'cure'. Drink this potion (at the very [un]reasonable cost of £79.99 per 20ml bottle) and you will be free of diabetes. But this was not the case - nowhere was the mention of potions or magic beans.

So I read on with interest - and in truth, a little caution - as I read about a little girl named Kylie. Kylie's parents had suffered the same traumatic news that many other parents across the world have had to come to terms with. My parents did. Maybe yours did, or maybe you are the parent who has had the same devastating news.

"Your child has diabetes."

Just as with many other parents, Kylie's learnt in time that their daughter would rely on daily injections, blood testing and countless appointments with specialists each year. Only this couple were different; they decided very early on that they would try anything and everything to spare their child from this fate. They started researching, reading and experimenting; they toyed and juggled with all kinds of foods, until they pinpointed which foods had the greatest impact on Kylie's BGs. Slowly they started to remove all those foods from her diet, until eventually, Kylie no longer needed injections. This, was the blog that started to change my view of food.

Contrary to my suspicions that this must be a one in a million case, I soon found others online who were also experiencing life without injections. Many were children, but there are also the odd adults here and there. They all had one thing in common; they had caught the disease and started lowering their carbs during the 'honeymoon period', when they're body still had a reasonable percentage of functioning cells. Something I doubt I have. But still I set about contacting as many people as I could, with a little [perhaps naive] hope that maybe one day I too could live without injections. As much as I love my pump and as much as it has changed my life and as much as I sing its praises, I would do almost anything to be free of the daily grind that is in effect, self harming for the purpose of living. But it comes at a price. Carbohydrate is all but a curse word for these families. Anything with carbohydrate, such as oats, potatoes, pasta, whole grains, most dairy and rice is just not possible if you want your blood sugars to stay level. How is it that these people manage it?

One of the immediate discoveries I made, was that all of those who followed these strict low carb, high protein diets, followed a plan by a Dr Bernstein.

Dr Richard Bernstein is a Type 1 diabetic himself. Over his years of living with diabetes, he had begun to suffer a number of complications. And we are not talking 'small' complications like tingly fingers or the odd blurry vision brought on by high sugars. Not that I think those are small per se, but in terms of what can go wrong, these are at the lower end of the scale, for me at least. But Dr Bernstein had neuropathy in both his legs, his sight was all but permanently damaged and most importantly, his kidney problems meant that he had a sell by date of 5 more years on his life - which he discovered through his own research into the condition he had. At this point, Dr Bernstein bought himself a home blood testing kit. Something that you and I take for granted on a daily basis. We read the results and either curse or rejoice. They can now be bought for little more than £10 and sometimes you even get them free. Way back then, before they were available for domestic every day personal use, Dr Bernstein had to enlist the help of his physician wife, and bought himself the 3 lb bulky device which cost hundreds of dollars and was by no means portable. But with this device, Dr Bernstein also embarked on a similar journey to that of Kylie's parents and the many other diabetics who have found a way to control sugars either by diet alone, or by diet and minimal medication, with minimal side effects in terms of hypers and hypos. The problem was, Dr Bernstein at the time wasn't a Doctor. He was an engineer whose claims about controlling diabetes through diet were shrugged or laughed off.

How could this man claim to know anything about diabetes? He may have it, but we have the knowledge of how to treat it.

Well, Dr Bernstein refused to give up here. He subsequently enrolled at medical school and gained the MD after his name that would allow him to finally influence the teachings of the so-called 'experts' of the time and devise his own A-Z guide of how to control BG using diet and finely tuned insulin administration.

Dr Bernstein's method is now one of the most widely advocated methods of treating type 1 diabetes in the US, and would appear to me, to be snowballing at an astounding rate. Thank you Mister Internet, because I for one would never have discovered this for myself without the use of my trusty keyboard and Google search engine.

I have been reading Dr Bernstein's book - 'The Diabetes Solution: The Complete Guide to Normalizing Blood Sugars' for about a week now, and have already learnt so much more than I could ever write in one post. Like the reason behind sudden sharp hypers after a meal when I 'stuffed myself', despite having carb counted to within an inch of reason.

I am now starting to experiment with my own diet, toying here and experimenting there - so far with reasonable success. In my first 4 days, I did not have a single blood sugar over 8.4mmol (151 mg/dl). I have not gone as far as cutting back as much as the book suggests, purely at this time because I am only on chapter 4 and don't know how or what to avoid at this point. I also have to admit, that right now I can't quite get my head around how cutting out whole grains and dairy can be good for anyone. I know that the rules of a healthy diet don't always apply to diabetics, but I have been trained for 24 years to know that low fat, high carbohydrate (without even a single mention of protein!) is the way to go. Without a doubt any change in diet takes some degree of choice and reason, but to cut most food groups out all together is something I am still unsure about.

But for someone whose obituary had all but been written (sorry for the coarse idea, but if you read the book you too would realise how severe some of the complications really were), this person turned their life around and still now at the age of 74, lives a healthy 'normal' life.

The jury is still out for me whether I would be able to fully remove carbs all together (other than those from specific vegetables). I am at present firmly in the school of thought that food is medicine, it is fuel - here for the purpose of keeping our bodies nourished. But I am also in the school of thought that food is medicine, it is our fuel. Confused? Are those not the same thing? Well, I truly believe that sometimes a meal out with friends is the best medicine. Sometimes when you have had a tough day, coming home to a nice 'naughty' dinner or a film with pop corn or ice cream as a treat, outweighs the 'damage' that it can do to all of us in the D club.

However, that being said, if Dr Bernstein managed to not only outlive his 'expiration date' by every 'professional's' opinion, but also reverse most of his complications particularly the more dangerous ones and still to this day manages his condition via insulin and a tailored diet, then why can't I? Is it all that dangerous to cut out certain foods? The fact Dr Bernstein is still walking this planet would suggest not...

I know that I will never be able to come off insulin all together. I know that after having had chronically high sugars for the majority of my teens has probably destroyed every last insulin producing cell I had left. But that is just toughr. Perhaps if I had caught myself in the very early stages of the disease, during the honeymoon period, just as Kylie's parents did, I would have stood a chance. Perhaps if my parents had had the tools I may have now found, it would be a different story. Perhaps today's blog would be about not having to inject, about having perfect sugars, about living without type 1.

Instead, today's blog is all about trying new things. I continue to read Dr Bernstein's book with fascination, sneaking a read at work, while my partner watches cricket or while I'm in the car. I continue to remain open-minded and hopeful.

I continue to travel on my diabetes journey and find new ways to tackle this disease.

So join me if you will as I begin to experiment with my own food regime, and use my experiments as a way to reach your own decisions about your condition. I hope that my future posts will offer some insight and clues as to what may be awry in your own diet. If not, then I am sorry. But if so, feel free to use me as your Guinnea Pig - I plan on doing it anyway!

Posts to follow!

Six things

I found out this evening that it is Universal D-Blog day (really? is there such a thing?) and as part of that all of us in the D-club are bound (not legally) to write about 6 things we want the Universe to know about Diabetes.

I have had a great time reading about all the things other people want the world to know, and many of them I wish I had thought of myself. So I will henceforth list my 6 things, and will attempt not to plagiarise any of the brilliant answers I have read so far.

1) You aren't made to wear an insulin pump, you choose it. OK, I'm in a restaurant with a friend I haven't seen in a while. The time comes to order my nosh and I begin my calculations of what I might need to dose. Anyone who has ever seen an episode of 'Scrubs' should recognise the facial expression, as mine is usually not dissimilar to the expression on 'JDs' face when he drifts off into his dream world. Only in my head, there are no crazy and entertaining fantasies. Instead I am doing something like this: 65 grams of cabs x 1.3 units of insulin (my evening bolus dose) + 1.2 units to correct for high sugars, delivered over 30 minutes equals...... Out comes the pump, and then the questions start. I usually quite enjoy this bit, because I get to talk about this unwelcome stowaway who dictates so much of my life. But if I could tell you the number of times I have had the question "It's got that bad has it." First of all, 'it' doesn't get worse. The complications might but diabetes itself is incapable of morphing into some three headed, blood sucking, red-eyed beast which now forces me to be 'put' on a pump. 'It' carries on for the most part as it always has done. Sometimes it is predictable and almost seems to like you. Sometimes it is in a mood which could only match that of Mariah Carey when she found out they painted her dressing room the wrong shade of white. Second of all, do I really look that bad?? Can you tell the diabetes has got 'worse' just by looking at me. Just for the record, I chose this lifestyle. Because it made my life easier, because it made more sense than blindness, kidney disease and constantly numb/tingling/painful limbs. I chose this because I wanted it.

2) Yes, I am allowed that. OK, to be fair and give credit where credit is due, this one is not technically the fault of the public. If you were to believe the poorly thought out media campaigns advocating a healthy, seed and grass eating lifestyle, for fear of developing the dreaded 'diabetes' (Type 2, TYPE 2, PLEASE, JUST ONCE SPECIFY TYPE 2!), we would all believe that people with diabetes shouldn't go outside, shouldn't eat anything except vegetables and ornamental garden grass with a tasty side order of Quinoa and shouldn't even look at that piece of cake. Granted, there are good choices and not so good choices. But the fact is I carbohydrate count to within an inch of my own life on a daily basis and have done for 12 years. And for that matter - am very good at it. I am good at guessing and I am good at calculating. For that reason, no food is outside the realms of possibility. If I know how and what to inject for it, the sky is the limit. So yes, I can have that!

3) Diabetic equipment gets EVERYWHERE. When my friend moved house about 5 years ago, she actually took the time to contact me to tell me that she had found 37 sterile needle lids on her floor underneath her bed. This is because I spent a substantial amount of time with her, on many a night out, weekend in and girly get together at her abode as a teenager. I had my own toothbrush and toiletry set at her house, because eventually it just didn't make sense to bring my 'stuff' every weekend. But with that also came the fact that for every day I spent there, there were about 6 blood testing strips, 4 needle covers (small flexible plastic lids which you peel off the lid of the needle before using it), sterile wipes, lancets etc etc etc, that all find there way into the thousands of nooks and crannies that a home has to offer. I was also recently on a walk with the same friend, when we sat on a bench and noticed a testing strip placed just next to our feet. Here, Lauren pointed out that I was a bit like the guy in 'The Shawshank Redemption', who empties out his pockets of stones in the exercise yard, only I do it with diabetic equipment on walks in the country. I cannot tell you how many times my cats have come leaping into the living room with any number of needle cases, cannulas and reservoirs which they have managed to find and mistakenly perceive as a play-thing.

4) Blood tests - SUCK! And not in some vampire-esque blood sucking joke way, but in a real way. I hate them. I seem to be able to all but pass out on every occasion,and while doing so freak out every poor bugger in the waiting room, because no matter how many times I have them done, it never gets any easier. I know they are for a good cause. I know I have to have them done. I know the result will paint a very clear picture of how I am faring against this disease. But it makes no odds to me. The twitching, sweating and shaking starts from the minute my DSN hands me the blood form. Even as she writes out my details on the form, I can feel myself squirming. She has seen me turn white on many occasion, but only on blood test day.

5) No two days are the same. This is perhaps one of the most frustrating things about diabetes, and people often laugh (they get shot down straight after) because they think I am kidding when I tell them that your BGs are affected by weather, sleep, time of the month, stress, food you ate yesterday, eating fruit, eating veg, even looking at a danish pastry. OK, OK, the last thing isn't proven, but ask any diabetic with a sense of humour and they would agree, it has been known to happen, it's just never been documented 'officially'. The fact is diabetes is affected by almost anything which affects your body, including external forces like heat, noise, and routine. It really is that mean.

6) Yes, you can have diabetes and still have a sense of humour. I have discovered that all of the things that drove me crazy and made me feel very alone, happen to EVERY SINGLE DIABETIC. And these things are possible to laugh at. I'm not saying laugh at diabetes or take it lightly per se, not by any means, but next time you find a testing strip (or 20 of them) at the bottom of your bag, remember this post and laugh about it.

Taking a break

OK, so I have been performing VERY poorly on the whole updating the blog thing. I guess there are a number of reasons. Firstly, in the past month I have had four family birthdays including J-dizzle hitting the big 3-0, a wedding, a holiday, a surprise party and all the secretive planning that has gone with it. So something kinda had to give. In this case it was the blog. Secondly, for some reason the diabetes has gone a little AWOL this month, with some of the strangest results I have seen. No doubt because of all the weddings and birthdays, which are of course filled with alcohol and cake, two little elements I spend most of my time avoiding.

I decided to allow myself a month off, a vacation - if you will - because the truth is when you manage something like diabetes, there can all too often be times when the blasted condition takes over. On a daily basis I do around 8-10 blood tests, 4 or 5 boluses, numerous calculations, the odd correction and numerous frustrating moments when I get a bit...'sweary' shall we say. Sometimes, to come home after a day of bad bloods, you just don't feel like writing about it. I always wanted this to be an honest blog about what it was really like with a silent (or sometimes not so silent) partner like diabetes lurking behind every corner, but I never intended this to be somewhere to rant and complain. Primarily because anyone reading a few posts may begin to stop reading the words - about what diabetes really entails - and start reading between the lines. Subtext is hard to ignore when the author of the words are angry, impatient and a little burnt out.

So I come back to you refreshed and ready to get on with it, after having had a busy month which has of course resulted in some downright confusing results. I admit that I have had the kind of month when I could have punched diabetes in the head. Problem is, it doesn't have one. So I have come through 'the dark days' ready to tackle this silly thing head on. The most effective way.

Over the past months not a lot has changed in my body; the weight has remained stable (if a little on the 'cuddly' size), my routine hasn't changed, I haven't been anywhere hot, I haven't changed my diet significantly, and yet somehow my blood sugars have been acting like they are having some kind of party in my body, with a more the merrier attitude. Apparently the worse and more frequent they are, the better the party!

I'll go on to explain a few of the ups and downs as I go on, but it certainly feels good to be back!

What would you do on your day off?

Every week there are a few days we all look forward to. Whether they fall at the weekend, whether they are nestled between Tuesday and Friday or even when they are dotted here and there, we all look forward to them. We make plans for them; we plan for a lie in, we plan to see friends, we go the the movies, we rest, we play, we enjoy.

But there is one thing that we as diabetics can never look forward to: A day off.

We may be allowed a day off from work, college or school. And we may enjoy all of the things that others can enjoy, no matter what our idea of fun is. But from the moment we wake, when our tired eyes open and take in the first snapshot of the day, we are planning.

The first blood test falls about a minute after waking. We pull back the covers, sleepy and a little unsteady. We reach for the light, flick the switch and begin our search. We find our blood testing kit and nervously prick our finger for the first, but certainly not the last time that day. The result of this test will tell us a lot about whether our bodies are going to be in a bad mood today. If the test is high, we have some damage limitation to plan. We must correct, we must hang back on breakfast, we must hazard a guess at what happened last night, we must wait. For this reason, the first test of the day is usually a nervous affair. Mine usually involves looking at the test with one eye closed - similar to how you would watch a horror film when you know you don't necessarily want to see the gruesome result.

5

4

3

2

1

The rest of the day trundles on; test after test, dose after dose. My food has to be weighed at every meal, my sugars analysed after each test. If I feel thirsty, I have to wonder why; did I bolus right at my last sitting, do I have a kink in my cannula, is my pump working.

There is no such thing as a 'day off' from diabetes. The closest we can get is not testing our blood for the day. Irresponsible and dangerous - it's but a break, if all else has failed and we just need a break. I think the last time I didn't test for a day was about 3 months ago, when I ran out of strips from testing too much the day before. Technically it was a forced holiday, but a holiday nonetheless.

But I often wonder about how things would be if there was a cure or even something close. How would my first minute of each day compare. When my sleepy eyes crack open, would I look forward to a morning run? One without the pre-jog blood test, sip of juice and portable supply of glucose tablets?

Maybe after I could tuck into a pancakes with syrup breakfast (even saying the word 'syrup' makes my sugars go up at the moment - God forbid some should ever touch my lips). But after tucking into that blood sugar-tastic breakfast for a king, what would be next?

I try not to dwell on these things too much, mainly because 'they' have been talking about a cure since I was diagnosed, all those 24 years ago. Quarter of a decade domineered by a disease which dictates many of my every day decisions.

I still don't know how I would choose to spend my first day off if they cured this disease.

How about you?

Compromise? If I must.

There are many things I have had to accept as a diabetic.

I have had to accept that until there is a cure, I will need to inject or wear an insulin pump to help me control my blood sugar levels. I have had to accept that blood testing, insulin pumps, injections and carb counting are going to have to be part of my daily routine, if I am to conquer this challenge. I have had to accept that no matter how small a part of me I once wished it would be, diabetes is a big part of my life, and indeed of who I am.

But there is one aspect of diabetes I have always struggled with: Food.

In truth I have never been the kind of person who takes instruction easily. In fact, if dictionary entries had faces of people who are a 'good example' next to them, I would no doubt be picked for several; stubborn, argumentative, opinionated and always right(!) spring to mind. And I'm sure my friends and family would most definitely be those who vote me in! If I could successfully argue that red was not red, I would give it a damned good try. The truth is I hate boxes. Not the kind my cats hide in, using them as some sort of feline fortress from which to attack passers by, but the kind that are often referred to as pigeon holes. You are this, you are that. You are diabetic.

But the fact is, while I always knew that I had to inject and had to carry out blood tests, food has always been the thorn in my side - because I love it. I have never felt hard done by when it comes to injecting. I have never felt as though blood tests were hard or unfair. They were just 'there'. Something which I show a bit of contempt for, each and every time my skin is pierced in the interest of the condition, but which don't really detract anything from my life. It is the only way I know.

But when it comes to food, and having to accept that sometimes you just have to say 'no', I have always swum against the current.

One of my biggest pet peeves is when people say to me, "are you allowed that?" I am not a violent person, but now and then some bright spark has caught me at a bad moment, and in the midst of my annoyance, which was being subdued somewhat by the fact that I was indulging in a much needed treat, I could have clean taken them straight off this planet!

But yesterday morning I had the final installment of my insulin pump trial assessment, with my wonderful but long-suffering DSN (Diabetes Specialist Nurse). I have been attending these sessions on a monthly basis since January, in order to review my success with the insulin pump. Something us Brits have to do if we want to successfully make the move onto the pump.

At the beginning of the trial, I had to work with the specialist team to set myself the targets I wanted to achieve by the end of the trial. Now some of these were personal targets, primarily set as a way of taking some emotional control over my diabetes. But some were physiological targets, such as lower my A1c and have less than one BS of more than 20mmol per month.

I have now successfully achieved 4 of my 5 targets. Excellent!

The problem is, that last little blighter always gets the better of me. It is always JUST out of reach. I have managed to lower the frequency of BS levels in the 20s by about 60%, which incidentally I am very proud of. But, on a monthly basis, there are always 2 or 3 which fall on exactly 20. No higher, but high enough.

Well, I tracked them back this month, and much to my horror (mainly because I had to accept that I was wrong - I know, can you believe it?), they were ALL on days when I had eaten something 'I shouldn't'. I'm loathed to say it, mainly because I want to prove all the judgmental onlookers who dare to ask me that question wrong, but I guess there are times when I really shouldn't have that.

Don't get me wrong, by no means am I planning on never having a treat again, and I certainly don't plan on allowing this revelation to change who I am. I will still argue that red is not red. I will still stand firm when I am asked what I think. I am still Anna.

But the fact is, if I wanted to get those sugars well and truly conquered, I think I now see that it isn't the end of the world if now and then, I let the diabetes win, and just say no.

I need to learn that treats are fine, but I have to experiment only now and then, so that I can find out exactly what and when I need to bolus, without sabotaging my monthly targets.

I guess you learn something new everyday.

I guess I can't win 'em all.

I guess it'll make the next time even sweeter - no pun intended!

Copied from someone elses blog! (Might as well be honest!)

OK, so the answers are mine, but I saw this on one of my favourite diabetes blogs and thought it might be a nice light hearted break!


What type of diabetes do you have: Type 1 , Insulin Dependent,

When were you diagnosed: December 1986

What's your current blood sugar: 11.6 mmol

What kind of meter do you use: Medtronic Paradigm VEO

How many times a day do you test your blood sugar: about 8 times a day unless something is wrong

What's a "high" number for you: Anything above 12mmol

What's do you consider "low": Anything under 4mmol

What's your favorite low blood sugar reaction treater: Pineapple juice! It's the only time I can guzzle it (within reason!)

Describe your dream endo: Understanding, non-judgmental and patient!

What's your biggest diabetes achievement: I consider making it to adulthood with no complications and a scrap of remaining sanity, an 'achievement'!

What's your biggest diabetes-related fear: Kidney Failure. I don't know if I could cope with dialysis

Who's on your support team: J-Dizzle, the mothership, my best, my pump!

Do you think there will be a cure in your lifetime: Even though it has been talked about for years with no actual cure ever appearing, I remain hopeful that yes, eventually there will be. There seem to be new ideas forming and evolving every day. I live in hope.

What is a "cure" to you: um, a cure, how many ways around it are there....

The most annoying thing people say to you about your diabetes is: You just have to watch what you eat and inject right? Wrong.

What is the most common misconception about diabetes: You get it from being fat. I was four. I was tiny. I was healthy. I was normal.

If you could say one thing to your pancreas, what would it be: Last one to start producing insulin is a loser. GO!

Hope, fear or terror?

Just recently, I have watched and read three different forms of media, which have brought the matter of how to tackle young people not taking their diabetes seriously, well and truly into my thoughts.

The first, was a documentary recently televised on Channel 4 about the risks young people take with their diabetes. Shot from the perspective of the toll this takes on the NHS, this documentary received a markedly varied response primarily - it seems - dependent on what the 'watcher' was expecting to see.

The second was a blog post written by the person who - in part - got me blogging. A blogger from America called Kerri Morrone-Sparling. In her post she talked about the way in which fear of complications is often used, perhaps naively, as a way to 'motivate' people to take more care of themselves.

The third appeared tonight, via facebook, in the form of a link to an article about a 47 year old type 1 diabetic. She was also a triple amputee, having had both her legs and one arm removed.

I was about to hit the 'share' button on the laptop, when I realised; this article had terrified me, did I really want to share it? The first thing I did after reading it was check my sugars. But the truth is, the article led the reader very much down the 'it's too late now' route, so even though I'm glad to say my sugars were 5.9mmol (106mg/dl), the article had already convinced me that no matter how they were now, I may well have already done the damage.

I now have that heavy feeling in my stomach. About my weight, about the fact I've been drunk, have smoked, didn't go for a run every night as a teenager. About the fact I am human.

The truth is I realised something just as I was about to hit that button. I realised that there are many people in this world. All of whom have different characteristics and different ways of reacting to something.

For some, that article may have filled them with motivation. Motivation to get up tomorrow and pound the hell out of their jogging shoes. For me, the fear doesn't work. It never did. Truth is, the article made we want to go out, get drunk, smoke a packet of cigarettes and give up all together. Just for a second.

I won't, but only because my attention span is matched only by high functioning amoebas and in all honesty, I knew I could run to my blog and anonymously (sort of), write down all my thoughts and allow them fall onto the screen.

But what about those kids in the documentary? If I had read that article as an angst filled teenager struggling enough to come to terms with the feelings puberty was throwing at me, I would probably have ended up in tears and considered ending my journey. What is the point - if the cards have already been drawn, if the chips are down?

I think I realised tonight, that I am very much in the 'anti-fear' camp. Telling someone that the disease which has already claimed such a marked percentage of their lives that if you don't take PERFECT care of yourself, it could also take both of your legs and you arm, is surely enough to make the strongest person withdraw and hang up their gloves for good. Or to at least send them into a mild surge of depression.

My motivation right now is the fact that one day I hope to bring children into this world; healthy children who can do all the things I could as a child. But more than that, my hope is that I will grow old to see them start play school, junior school, secondary school, college. I hope to see them fall in love, see them fall out of love, watch them find themselves. Hope.

The key word there is hope. I look after myself, because of HOPE. Hope isn't driven by fear or terror. It is driven by positivity and ambition. Perhaps I am naive to hope that I will still be in one piece similar to this one by the time my life draws to a close, but my vision of my future is based on me as I am now. If I was using images of myself with no arms or legs, kidney failure and blindness, what is there to strive for? Being able to feed yourself at the age of 50? Being able to walk at your child's wedding? Being able to get out of bed without help?

The truth is for me, hope is the only way I motivate myself. I know that this isn't the case for everyone, and that some people need that image of a amputee to spur them on. But I wonder how many people, realistically, who are already dealing with their fair share of challenges, are really able to look at that, and not allow it to fill them with fear and dread?

Am I the only one to feel troubled?

For me, hope comes in the form of a cure. That is the plain and simple fact. I know that doesn't reach out to everyone and I know that it is at best still just a dream. And I have no doubt that if by the age of 45 I have had to have legs and arms amputated, I will also be trying to spread the same message I am now arguing as problematic. Perhaps motivations and inspirations change through time - as we grow and change.

Whatever the case is. For now, I will store that article at the back of my thoughts. Tomorrow I will have a good day, because every new day brings a new chance. Maybe I'm already damaged, maybe I'm not. Right now I choose NOT!

That is my hope.