Supermarket Sweep. 


Shopping in a supermarket during the holidays with a friend turned into a game show. She would throw items at me and I would tell her the carbs or in some cases guess. We’d been discussing what to buy for a meal and she was asking me about what kind of ingredients I’d buy to make sure my son had the correct number of carbs. 

Luckily, we were in a town far from home and had left everyone at the pool. As we skirted up and down the aisles, my friend lobbed, tossed and violently chucked various food items at me, demanding the carb value:

Her: Catch, bread one slice?

Me: Ha! 15g per slice, if not too thick! Too easy!

Her: Pasta?

Me: Ouch! One cup of penne, 30g, one cup of spaghetti, 45g! Why? No carbs in air, mate!

Her: Choc bar? 

Me: Ooh, now you’re talking! Flick me a Flake at a good solid 15g. Easter’s coming with Creme Eggs coming in around 30g each. What, they’ve got them already? Gimme two, quick, for the car on the way home, of course!

Her: Apple?

Me: Small fist size, 15 g per apple! Haven’t you seem me groping my way through the apples like a dirty old man?

Her: Banana? 

Me: A bit like an apple but reference another body part! 15g for small!

We laughed, giggled and guffawed our way around the supermarket! Never has carb counting been so much fun! Getting back to the car, we packed the boot and jumped in. I handed my friend her Creme Egg and we sat blissfully munching. She admitted to not knowing much about carbs and I laughed and said I hadn’t either until we had to very quickly learn after diagnosis. I wrote this poem during that initial period of learning:


Goodbye 2015

Well, that was 2015!

We survived and thrived.

We shouted and forgave.

We laughed and sometimes we cried.

A year of learning that it’s OK not to be perfect.

A year of understanding that despite doing everything according to the plan,

Type 1 diabetes does not always play by the rules.

Increases in testosterone levels in the House of Testosterone

Mean there are now three males over 6 feet tall.

We took international trips and Type 1 diabetes did not spoil a thing.

Many cities were visited, carbs were guesstimated and new flavours were enjoyed.

Homework was done, after a fashion.

A new study was built to facilitate easier learning.

Yes, you may laugh!

Sport was regularly played through all the seasons,

With regular support and unwelcome reminders to check BGLs from the sidelines.

Rugby and football in winter were replaced by cricket, swimming at the beach and touch football in the summer.

We entered our third year helping our boy on his journey.

There’s an easy familiarity with the language around it.

There’s a realisation that control can be fragile

But there is nothing that has not been done.

Bring on 2016!

Disco Inferno (Otherwise known as a night out for parents of a child with T1 diabetes)



I wrote this after we had a great Christmas night out with all the people from my work. We still had a good time but I didn’t totally relax once that phone buzzed. My boy was only looking for some reassurance and I realised this the next day. 

I refound my mojo that night, even just for a brief while, and that was fun! It was all I needed to remind me that I love that man of mine too! He’s the Kel to my Kath! Best Christmas present ever!