Diabetes Camp Rocks! (365:1)

Diabetes camp can be one of THE most amazing experience for a child with type 1 diabetes. Fully supervised by medical professionals, with trained and knowledgeable staff, it provides an opportunity for d-kids to experience all the activities and fun of residential summer camp in a diabetes-safe environment. Plus it offers the added bonus of introducing kids to other boys and girls with type 1, so they can swap stories, compare histories, voice complaints about d, whatever they want, all to someone else who actually GETS it. Empowerment is the goal here, and camp staff teach and encourage kids to self-manage their diabetes,while fostering a growing sense of independence.

At camp pick up, holding his bag of d-supplies and sporting his new camp toque

This year was Dyl's 5th time at Camp Kakhamela on BC's Sunshine Coast, and his best camp yet. They had flawless weather, he made tons of new friends, and he even learned to sail! Can't wait for next year!

Kakhamela is one of 12 Canadian Diabetes Association overnight camps. For full info, visit www.dcamps.ca/.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday ~ Diabetes Camp Time

It's almost that time of year already: diabetes camp!! This will be Dylan's third year at Camp Kakhamela, a beautiful camp located on British Columbia's Sunshine Coast.

For anyone interested in attending Camp Kakhamela, I believe there are still a few spaces available for the first session, running in early July. Visit the Canadian Diabetes Association website for more info.

Hope vs Acceptance

When Dylan was first diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes six and a half years ago, I was adamant about doing everything I could to help to find a cure; I fundraised, I volunteered, I advocated, and, above all, I hoped. My hope that a cure would come in Dylan's lifetime was so unwavering that I would stop at nothing to see it into fruition. And we were not among the parents who were told by medical professionals that a cure would be found within five, or even ten, years. I clearly remember our endocrinologist saying that she felt a cure for Type 1 Diabetes would be available by the time Dylan was my age (I was thirty at Dylan's diagnosis, he was three days shy of his fifth birthday), but that there were no guarantees. Yet I jumped into my advocacy as if a cure was imminent.

Those first few years, Dylan and I used to talk often about what a cure would mean to him. He was young and a cure would mean freedom from this new restrictive lifestyle. It would mean no more injections, no more finger pokes, no more counting carbs, no more mom obsessing over his every move, no more constant worrying (well, the latter two would probably continue regardless, I am a mom after all...).

Then when Dylan was nine, he volunteered as a Youth Ambassador for JDRF and gave a number of speeches to corporations about what it was really like being a child and living with type 1 diabetes. At the end of each speech he always spoke briefly about what a cure would mean to him. His speech ended with,


"What would a cure mean to me? A cure for diabetes would make me feel free. Free to eat what I want, when I want. To eat my Halloween candy on Halloween and my Easter eggs at Easter, free to be just a regular kid. Right now there is no cure for type-1 diabetes, but we can change that with your help. This June, join me and the many other children, teens, and adults with diabetes as we walk to find a cure, so kids like me can live happy and free. I don’t let my diabetes get me down, but I do want a cure so I don’t have to deal with diabetes every minute, every hour, every day."

That was only two years ago, and yet so much has changed. At eleven years old, Dylan has become a young man, and has become so responsible with his diabetes care. The disease has been fully enveloped into our lives; it is routine, in a way. And sometime in the last two years, Dylan and I stopped talking about a cure. It wasn't that we stopped believing, or gave up hope. Maybe it was due to the fact that he could no longer remember life without diabetes; or perhaps it was that those conversations simply took a backseat to everyday life. Whatever the reason, a cure was no longer on the forefront of our minds. We went from hope to acceptance.

Fast forward to last week, when I got a mass email from the Canadian Diabetes Association asking individuals to share their stories. They want Canadians touched by diabetes to describe what a cure would mean to them, and post it to the CDA Facebook page. Readers will then vote on the stories, and the author of the story with the most votes will win an iPad 2. I really didn't think anything of it at the time, but later I realized how long it has been since Dylan and I had talked about a cure. 

That same evening I asked Dylan what he thought. I didn't ask him if he hoped for a cure, because we all know the answer to that question; I asked him if he still thought about a cure. His response came immediately, without any hesitation. "Every day," he said. "Really?" I asked. "Yes," he replied, "but I try not to worry about it too much. I've accepted that diabetes is my life, so I deal with it." That was it, end of conversation.

As the tears inevitably flooded my eyes, I stood up and left the room. I was literally unsure of how to feel about his response, and I'm still torn. A part of me is so proud of him for his mature outlook and acceptance, partly because it would break my heart to learn that he pines for a life he may never have, and partly because, in the long run, this attitude will likely lead him to take better care of his diabetes as he gets older. At the same time, however, hope is important; believing that a cure is out there somewhere can provide solace and comfort in times of need and desperation.

So I guess my question for readers is: At what point, if ever, do you give up hope for a life free of diabetes and simply accept the life you've been given?

To Fund or Not to Fund; the Shenanigans of the Alberta Diabetes Debate

Tuesday night I was watching my local 11:00pm news, reading a book while watching, paying limited attention to the stories until my ears perked up at the mention of the words "diabetes" and "insulin pump." I quickly found myself getting quite upset at the content of the story, so much so that I rewound the article twice to ensure that I had heard everything correctly. I then even hit record on the PVR so that I could re-watch the story in the morning with fresh eyes.

A bit of factual background presented at the offset of the article:
1) "Every 7 seconds somebody around the world dies of diabetes and that number is rising, even though the disease is largely preventable"
2) by the year 2030 there will be an estimated 5 million diabetes diagnoses
3) Diabetes is expected to rise 3% within the current decade
Now the story did not differentiate between Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes, but I am assuming (hoping) that point 1's reference to "preventable" was meant to describe Type 2 only, and that points 2 and 3 refers to all forms of diabetes, be it Type 1, Type 2, LADA, etc.

So here's the deal. In Canada, most provinces provide funding, at least in part, to help offset the outrageous cost of purchasing an insulin pump. They also help with the cost of maintaining the pump (including covering the cost of infusion sets and reservoirs. Sensor/CGM costs are not covered). In BC, where I live, this funding is a recent change, but a much needed one. The current issue involves the province of Alberta (next door to BC, and directly north of Montana) where the government has been debating whether or not they should join the majority of the other provincial and begin to cover insulin pump costs.

It all came to light Tuesday when the CDA (Canadian Diabetes Association) released a report stating that the Alberta gov't will not be providing any funding for insulin pumps, even though they have one of the highest rates of diabetes in the country. The reason stated by the government is that they would prefer to focus on "preventing diabetes" in the first place and that because type 2 makes up 90% of the diagnoses in Alberta, the government feels it's in their best interest to focus on prevention rather than treatment. The CDA has argued, and rightfully so, that over the next 20 years, an insulin pump program could save the province up to $10.8 million. 

The outcome: The Alberta health minister agrees that the statistics presented by the CDA are convincing and the government will continue to keep the issue "on its radar."

My questions for readers are twofold: What type of funding/subsidy options are there for insulin pumps where you live? And do you believe that the government should be responsible for helping families with the costs of an insulin pump and its supplies/maintenance?

Both the footage of the television segment, as well as the print article, can be found here: Alberta has high diabetes rate but won't fund insulin pumps.