Dear Diabetes...

El Acueducto, Segovia.

Just over three years ago now, you came and turned my world upside-down. 

At the time of diagnosis, I knew very little about you - whatever I learnt in GCSE Science just about covered my knowledge on you. Back then, I probably wouldn't have been able to even tell you where my pancreas is located. And you know what? I still can't - it's somewhere between my head and my toes.

But what I have gone and done is learnt how to live with you.

Yes, you make my fingertips rough and sometimes sore; that just means I get to invest in lovely-smelling hand creams.

Yes, you can cause scars, scabs and pin-prick marks on my thighs, stomach and arms; I never liked wearing shorts anyway, and I was never that comfortable with my midriff exposed either.

Yes, you can keep me up at 1am (my laptop is English time, but living in Spain puts me an hour ahead), like you are now, drinking tea and eating chocolate digestives, even when I'm not hungry, to get out of a hypo; chocolate digestives aren't a food I tend to turn down at the best of times!

Yes, you can make leaving the house a mission, what with all the extra kit I need on me - blood testing kit, insulin, needles, hypo treatments; that means I get to spend money on pretty make-up bags to put all that stuff in and I've never had an issue with carrying a big bag.

Yes, you can cause me to have mini-meltdowns with your constant highs and lows and general reminders that you're there; you've helped shape who I am today, so I get that you might want some recognition for that.

But what I won't let you do (or at least try not let you do) is change my attitude towards you; since you became a part of my life, so much good has happened and new friendships have been formed, and they've all been worth every blood test, injection, hypo and hyper (well...maybe not every, but a significant proportion of them are worth it anyway!) 

So thank you.