IT HAS BEEN SUNNY FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK!
IT IS STILL SUNNY!
I AM NOT COLD!
England, what is going on?!
On Saturday, Izzy and I headed into London to spend a day at Pineapple Dance Studios. For those who don't know what it is (i.e. my aunts, uncles, parents etc), it's one of the top dance studios in the UK...and also has a hilarious reality show about it :) So we headed in, ridiculously excited and stressing about what to wear. You can't just rock up to Pineapple in trackie bottoms and a ratty old t-shirt.
We did a Jazz class first off, which was really fun. It was 'Beginner'. but was definitely more of an intermediate level. The warm up was amazing and they really pushed you the entire class. The atmosphere was really good as well, our teacher was really into it and constantly yelled 'attack! attack it!' After walking around Covent Garden and soaking up the rare English sunshine, I headed back to take a musical theatre dance class...and ended up unintentionally walking into the 'Advanced' Class. Eeeek. I didn't know this until after the warm up, which had been pretty standard. The teacher (who was so so SO gay, he was the best) turns around, hand on hip, and yells 'four struts forward, pas de bouree, soutenu'...etc etc. I knew what all these words meant but it was all meant to be done in about a half a second!
Needless to say I struggled through the first half, but then as we kept going and I kept trying, I actually got it! By the end of the class I actually got it, was keeping up, and even landed a double pirouette (which is good for me, most days I can barely do one). I'll never walk into an Advanced class again, but I'm so proud of myself, there were people in there who were studying at LSMT. Walked out completely exhausted, and my abs hated me the next day, but totally worth it!
Sunday I headed to a water park and ice skating with Turner and Walker, the two older boarding houses. I'm the floating gap for Turner, which means that I help out once a week and join in on a lot of their activities, but I also tend to invite myself along whenever there are excursions. I got to ice skate (A. taught me how to do an arabesque on the ice!) and have races down waterslides with the Fourths, and call it 'work'. Of course, you've always got to make sure that your group is all there and the girls aren't being a nuisance etc, but it was so much fun.
(Just a little side note, the British population makes your self esteem shoot up. At the pool there were girls walking around in skimpy bikinis with their guts and muffin tops hanging out for all to see. Cellulite and pasty white skin galore...I felt like an absolute babe).
This week in general has not been the most thrilling, just a normal week.
- K and H, two of the Form 2s that I help with swimming, finally learnt how to kick their legs and move their arms at the same time during front crawl! I was so proud of them, they'd obviously been practicing and they beamed at me after they did a length without stopping (much). M also finally learnt how to do a forward somersault in the water after weeks of me kneeling by the pool with my arms in the pool and helping her turn. Ms H and I were very proud. Doing swimming is good for me, I'm actually learning how to swim properly as well...
- I had a training session with David (the headmaster) and the nurse regarding A, an Upper who is going on the Geography trip next week and is a Type 1 diabetic. That's the main reason I'm heading on this Geography camp, to help out A. It's certainly not for my geographical knowledge hahaha. I felt very smart as the nurse went through what to do if A had a hypo, ketones etc. Been there, done that. I think it will be really good for her to have me on the trip with her - when she found out that Miss Peters had Type 1 diabetes too she nearly fell off the playground in shock and joy. It'll be good for me as well, because we're testing and injecting together so it'll force me to be a good example! It makes you feel less different as well, if someone is doing it with you. Girls at school screamed and made disgusted noises when I tested or injected, and they were meant to be mature 18 year olds - it must be so hard for her having to hide injections and stuff from girls at school.
- The sun has finally shown itself and the weather is incredible. Sunny and bright! Doing games with the little ones is an absolute joy, and doing duty is so much nicer. Today I lay on the astroturf with the Fourths in the sun (making sure they were wearing sunscreen!). Everyone seems happier when it's this kind of weather.
-Speaking of doing games, I was doing football with Kindergarten and JH decided to set me up as the goalie and we showed the kids how they were going to dribble the football up to Miss Peters and 'try' and score a goal. Needless to say, JH has probably been playing football all her life, and I have not, so she shot for the goal and I quite obviously missed it. Didn't even try to miss it, I legitimately put 100% into trying to stop that goal. How embarrassing. A couple of the littlies scored against me as well. They are 6...really, how I ended up being 'sport gap' is beyond me.
-I accidentally taught M. the ‘f word’ on Tuesday...she’s Spanish, and we were working on past tenses (riveting stuff) and as she was reading aloud she said the word ‘factual’. With her accent it sounded like ‘fuck-tl’ and I gasped and asked her what she had just said. She was really confused at how grumpy I was about her saying a harmless word and said
‘Miss Peterzz, I didn’t say anyzing, it’s just like the word fact’ (which sounded just like the word fuck...)’
‘M, what you just said sounds like an English swear word, so say it with me again. FACT’
‘Fuck’
‘M!’
‘What? It is rude?! Ooooh!’ At that point M got really excited and started to say it over and over again...
‘fuckfuckfuckfuckfcuk’
‘M!!!!!’
Needless to say, I came out of that EAL lesson wanting to throw myself off the Highlands tower. I just corrupted an 11 year old.
- I seem to gradually be losing weight...about a kilo a month. YESS! I’m still a bit of a heifer though. Trying to stay off the puddings and stick to salads, which is so much easier now that the weather isn't shit and British. The fruit and vegetables here are crap. They have about half the flavour of Aussie produce (I'm fussy with my fruit and veg - you don't work four years at Chelt Fruit Supply and learn nothing about your capsicums...). It's like they've sucked half the flavour out of it and made it plastic. I hate to be one of those people who complain abut how much better their native country is, but I'm sorry, in this case Australia kicks Britain's ass. However the puddings here are to die for. Best rice pudding I've ever tasted!
- At Turner this morning the girls in Gucci (one of the dorm names...I know, I know, the others are called Dior, Prada etc) had a water pistol and I busted them having a waterfight. I asked for the pistol, held it out the window and squirted all the water out (they all screamed because they thought I was going to throw it out the window! As if I'm that mean) before giving it back to A. and making her swear not to use it again otherwise I would confiscate it. I had on my scary teacher voice, I'm fairly sure it's still at the top of her cupboard where I made her put it, because they all sped downstairs about a second after I left. They were a little bit shocked, I'm usually quite easy breezy about most stuff. I'll overlook crumpled duvets on the top bunk (it's hard to make a top bunk!) and a drawer that's sticking out from under the bed but not water pistols!
I won't blog for about another week and a bit - I'm off to Cranedale (the Geography trip) on Sunday, so I will be away from all forms of phone reception and internet. Yippee!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
languages day
Today I had a 'day off' work...instead of normal classes we had Activities Day, where each year level did something different. I decided to spend my day with the Lowers, doing a whole day of languages! (I was so keen to help out with the Uppers' drama day it was embarrassing,but unfortuntely no gaps were needed. Sob.). I also got to wear nice clothes today, because for once in a blue moon I wasn't doing P.E! I broke out my brown heeled boots and purple dress, I felt like a human being again, as opposed to the fat blob that I feel like in my trackies and hoody. A comfortable blob, but a fat blob all the same.
I actually had the easiest job in the world - my job for the whole day was to sit in on the classes and take pictures. It's a hard life, being a gap teacher...
The first class was Mandarin, which was so interesting, because I have absolutely no idea about it. Up until last year I was still unaware that Mandarin and Cantonese were different things, and called them both 'Chinese'.....I'm such a white girl.. Anyway I learnt that for one word in Mandarin, it can mean 4 different things depending on the intonation of your voice. Additionally, when you write a character it all has to be in a certain order. I'm totally sticking with French at uni, I nearly died.
The second class was German, where the girls learnt a song about 'mein hut' which has 'drei ecken', and I sang along enthusiastically, delighting Frau A. but making the Lowers laugh hysterically.
'Miss Peters, you're not supposed to sing!'
'Girls, Miss Peters can sing as much as she wants'
Winner! On break duty we made up a little dance about 'mein hut' - I am actually 10 years old. I sang the song to Janet at lunchtime and she couldn't understand me because my pronunciation was so appalling hahaha.
After break we had Spanish, which I nearly fell asleep in because I'd eaten the entire dining hall contents at lunch. Nothing much to report there, except I realised that I can't pronouce Spanish either. French major it is!
Following those three classes, we took them upstairs to do a massive general-knowledge-about-languages quiz. It turned into something like house trivia at mac.rob - very loud, very competitive and very stressful (but minus a Mr. Richards sitting at the desk looking overwhelmed while we screamed 'OREADS ARE CHEATING!' at him). One team was steaming ahead because they had native french and spanish speakers - of course the other girls complained but they had to contend with me giving them extremely obvious hints, like subtley pointing to my head when they were stuck on what 'la tête' meant. Some of the answers were hilarious - at least three groups replied to the question 'Who was Salvador Dali?' with 'a chef'' ('I'm sure he's a chef Miss Peters, I'm positive!')
Lunchtime passed by with me taking photos (and numerous jumping photos) of the girls in their costumes. Some were fantastic, they had really gone to a lot of effort. I lent C. my scarf and she was stoked, she was so careful with it until she gave it back at 4, it was so cute!
To finish off the day the girls made mosaics. It was very messy and very glue-y, little bits of coloured paper were flying everywhere and I spent the first 10 minutes sorting out fights.
'I want to do a dragon but A. wants to do the german flag and now C. is crying and I hate this and...' ARGH. I rediscovered my inner child and sat down with the shy, quiet group and helped them finish their mosaic of a dragon. It turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. I had a little hypo at about 3.50 (tested at 2.2, yuck), so had to head outside for a bit and wolf down a jam sandwhich - I felt really bad because it looked like I was slacking off to eat.! :) Fatty boom-ba much.
Come 4.00, I headed back up to the flat, relaxed, then headed off to babysit S. at 5.30. S. is in Transition (aussie version = Prep) and is one of the sweetest little girls in the world. She's so much fun, I did her spelling and her homework with her, then played a very one-sided game of monopoly ('Take another chance card S, we'll just ignore that 'go to jail''). Her house is amazing - I'm rethinking my money isn't everything philosophy, because living in a house like that would make life a whole lot easier! It wasn't like a lot of rich people's houses where it seems like you've stepped into a magazine - it was really homey but beautiful, with a massive backyard, pool, and carpet so soft you easily could have slept on it.
I headed back to Godstowe, came down to the computer rooms and watched some Glee with the others. New episode...amazing. Darren Criss is the most amazing, incredible person in the entire world and I want to marry him. I have never had a celebrity crush this massive, I am a 13 year old again. The site we were watching it on died halfway through and we screamed so loud that I'm suprised Australia didn't hear.
The problems of a gap year student - glee episodes stopping halfway, no more milk in the fridge, going down to dinner and realising it's sausages...the list goes on :) Tomorrow I'm back to a normal day, with swimming and P.E and Turner House in the morning, which means having breakfast with the Turner girls and sewing hems/filing/folding laundry for 2 hours. Yes! I love Thursdays!
I hope you're all enjoying Uni and lectures and free food on campus and all the rest of it - if you're in a lecture now STOP READING AND PAY ATTENTION. Jaymee Klonis I'm looking at you.
I actually had the easiest job in the world - my job for the whole day was to sit in on the classes and take pictures. It's a hard life, being a gap teacher...
The first class was Mandarin, which was so interesting, because I have absolutely no idea about it. Up until last year I was still unaware that Mandarin and Cantonese were different things, and called them both 'Chinese'.....I'm such a white girl.. Anyway I learnt that for one word in Mandarin, it can mean 4 different things depending on the intonation of your voice. Additionally, when you write a character it all has to be in a certain order. I'm totally sticking with French at uni, I nearly died.
The second class was German, where the girls learnt a song about 'mein hut' which has 'drei ecken', and I sang along enthusiastically, delighting Frau A. but making the Lowers laugh hysterically.
'Miss Peters, you're not supposed to sing!'
'Girls, Miss Peters can sing as much as she wants'
Winner! On break duty we made up a little dance about 'mein hut' - I am actually 10 years old. I sang the song to Janet at lunchtime and she couldn't understand me because my pronunciation was so appalling hahaha.
After break we had Spanish, which I nearly fell asleep in because I'd eaten the entire dining hall contents at lunch. Nothing much to report there, except I realised that I can't pronouce Spanish either. French major it is!
Following those three classes, we took them upstairs to do a massive general-knowledge-about-languages quiz. It turned into something like house trivia at mac.rob - very loud, very competitive and very stressful (but minus a Mr. Richards sitting at the desk looking overwhelmed while we screamed 'OREADS ARE CHEATING!' at him). One team was steaming ahead because they had native french and spanish speakers - of course the other girls complained but they had to contend with me giving them extremely obvious hints, like subtley pointing to my head when they were stuck on what 'la tête' meant. Some of the answers were hilarious - at least three groups replied to the question 'Who was Salvador Dali?' with 'a chef'' ('I'm sure he's a chef Miss Peters, I'm positive!')
Lunchtime passed by with me taking photos (and numerous jumping photos) of the girls in their costumes. Some were fantastic, they had really gone to a lot of effort. I lent C. my scarf and she was stoked, she was so careful with it until she gave it back at 4, it was so cute!
To finish off the day the girls made mosaics. It was very messy and very glue-y, little bits of coloured paper were flying everywhere and I spent the first 10 minutes sorting out fights.
'I want to do a dragon but A. wants to do the german flag and now C. is crying and I hate this and...' ARGH. I rediscovered my inner child and sat down with the shy, quiet group and helped them finish their mosaic of a dragon. It turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself. I had a little hypo at about 3.50 (tested at 2.2, yuck), so had to head outside for a bit and wolf down a jam sandwhich - I felt really bad because it looked like I was slacking off to eat.! :) Fatty boom-ba much.
Come 4.00, I headed back up to the flat, relaxed, then headed off to babysit S. at 5.30. S. is in Transition (aussie version = Prep) and is one of the sweetest little girls in the world. She's so much fun, I did her spelling and her homework with her, then played a very one-sided game of monopoly ('Take another chance card S, we'll just ignore that 'go to jail''). Her house is amazing - I'm rethinking my money isn't everything philosophy, because living in a house like that would make life a whole lot easier! It wasn't like a lot of rich people's houses where it seems like you've stepped into a magazine - it was really homey but beautiful, with a massive backyard, pool, and carpet so soft you easily could have slept on it.
I headed back to Godstowe, came down to the computer rooms and watched some Glee with the others. New episode...amazing. Darren Criss is the most amazing, incredible person in the entire world and I want to marry him. I have never had a celebrity crush this massive, I am a 13 year old again. The site we were watching it on died halfway through and we screamed so loud that I'm suprised Australia didn't hear.
The problems of a gap year student - glee episodes stopping halfway, no more milk in the fridge, going down to dinner and realising it's sausages...the list goes on :) Tomorrow I'm back to a normal day, with swimming and P.E and Turner House in the morning, which means having breakfast with the Turner girls and sewing hems/filing/folding laundry for 2 hours. Yes! I love Thursdays!
I hope you're all enjoying Uni and lectures and free food on campus and all the rest of it - if you're in a lecture now STOP READING AND PAY ATTENTION. Jaymee Klonis I'm looking at you.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
national netball tournament!
This morning at the bright and early time of 7am, I headed off with the Under 12s and 13s to the National netball finals at Roedean, a girls boarding school in Brighton. Not because I had to, but because I got asked to come and I really wanted to! Day spent watching netball? Yes please. Netball tragic? Little bit. I blame my mother.
This is the school --> http://www.roedean.co.uk
I seriously want to win lotto, then enrol in this school and pretend I am 16 again. I would go through A-Levels to go to this school. It was amazing. It was on the edge of a cliff overlooking Brighton Beach, with the biggest and most beautiful grounds I have ever seen. They had the hugest theatre and about a million netball courts - it was straight out of 'St. Clares', but so much better.
(Brighton is awesome. Although I only saw it from the inside of the bus, I am booking a weekend there ASAP!)
Watching netball in England is pretty much the same, it just feels a lot more posh! Parents and coaches were calling 'Play up! Mark up!', which I figured out meant something like 'Play better' - I always thought it was something Enid Blyton had put in her books for shits and gigs, but apparantly people do say that! The bodysuits that we all wear back home have just made their way over here, but because it is ALWAYS SO COLD in this country they wear them with long thermals, which makes them look like they're wearing some kind of weird onesie...hahahaha.
About the tournament itself, there isn't much to say except that our girls played really well. They didn't get through to the play-offs, but just missed out! There were a few injuries (the first aid kit became my best friend...), but it was nothing a bit of R.I.C.E (rest,ice,compression,elevation) wouldn't fix! Every game was so close, the PE teachers and I couldn't watch at points, it was so tense. I spent a bit of time comforting some of the girls whose confidence had shot down a bit thanks to a loss or two - epecially the boarders, it must be hard for them at times, because you really want your parents to watch you at times like these! During the breaks I bonded with the teachers or huddled under blankets with the girls, eating their food and giving them life advice (with my whole six more years of experience...). They are just gorgeous girls, so much fun, calls of 'Miss P! Miss P! Watch this!!', followed by a crazy attempt at shooting from somewhere in the centre third went on all day!
The tournament was a prep school tournament, which you could guess by the cars! Walking back to the bus, we passed so many Volvos, Range Rovers and generally expensive cars (my car knowledge is crap, it's restricted to adjectives like 'shiny' and 'red') that it became a little bit hilarious. It got funnier when we passed a woman wearing a fur coat and heels - she looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion house. To be completely honest, she probably had but still, she was at a netball tournament! Heels? Seriously?
(There was also a seriously fit guy staffing the gate. So fit. I died. If only I wasn't wearing 100 layers and didn't have windblown hair...)
Now I'm home again, all netball-ed out, sitting in the library with Izzy and Aisling, contemplating whether I have enough energy to go upstairs and make myself pasta...
This is the school --> http://www.roedean.co.uk
I seriously want to win lotto, then enrol in this school and pretend I am 16 again. I would go through A-Levels to go to this school. It was amazing. It was on the edge of a cliff overlooking Brighton Beach, with the biggest and most beautiful grounds I have ever seen. They had the hugest theatre and about a million netball courts - it was straight out of 'St. Clares', but so much better.
(Brighton is awesome. Although I only saw it from the inside of the bus, I am booking a weekend there ASAP!)
Watching netball in England is pretty much the same, it just feels a lot more posh! Parents and coaches were calling 'Play up! Mark up!', which I figured out meant something like 'Play better' - I always thought it was something Enid Blyton had put in her books for shits and gigs, but apparantly people do say that! The bodysuits that we all wear back home have just made their way over here, but because it is ALWAYS SO COLD in this country they wear them with long thermals, which makes them look like they're wearing some kind of weird onesie...hahahaha.
About the tournament itself, there isn't much to say except that our girls played really well. They didn't get through to the play-offs, but just missed out! There were a few injuries (the first aid kit became my best friend...), but it was nothing a bit of R.I.C.E (rest,ice,compression,elevation) wouldn't fix! Every game was so close, the PE teachers and I couldn't watch at points, it was so tense. I spent a bit of time comforting some of the girls whose confidence had shot down a bit thanks to a loss or two - epecially the boarders, it must be hard for them at times, because you really want your parents to watch you at times like these! During the breaks I bonded with the teachers or huddled under blankets with the girls, eating their food and giving them life advice (with my whole six more years of experience...). They are just gorgeous girls, so much fun, calls of 'Miss P! Miss P! Watch this!!', followed by a crazy attempt at shooting from somewhere in the centre third went on all day!
The tournament was a prep school tournament, which you could guess by the cars! Walking back to the bus, we passed so many Volvos, Range Rovers and generally expensive cars (my car knowledge is crap, it's restricted to adjectives like 'shiny' and 'red') that it became a little bit hilarious. It got funnier when we passed a woman wearing a fur coat and heels - she looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion house. To be completely honest, she probably had but still, she was at a netball tournament! Heels? Seriously?
(There was also a seriously fit guy staffing the gate. So fit. I died. If only I wasn't wearing 100 layers and didn't have windblown hair...)
Now I'm home again, all netball-ed out, sitting in the library with Izzy and Aisling, contemplating whether I have enough energy to go upstairs and make myself pasta...
Monday, March 7, 2011
what doesn't kill you makes you stronger
Today is my one year diabetes anniversary.
This time last year I was in a hospital room, with drips coming out of both arms and wondering what the hell was happening to me. Now it's a year since then, and I can't believe 365 days has gone that fast. 7 March 2010 was the day that changed my life forever.
I hated it, and I still hate it.
I hate that after my diagnosis, I cried myself to sleep for months.
I hate that I spent the first few months of my year 12 in hospitals, waiting rooms and doctors’ offices instead of bars and clubs. Turning 18 is not as fun when you’re spending your Friday night with your endocrinologist.
I HATE that my ATAR was lower than it could have been, because I spent my year trying to stay on top of study and a chronic illness. Try battling high blood sugars and a pile of international politics reading at the same time – it’s the furthest thing from easy.
I hate that everything I do – dancing, sport, even an extended walk to the shops - has to be calculated down to the degree, because the tiniest margin of error can result in my entire body flipping out.
I hate that before I go to bed, I have to check my blood glucose level just to make sure that I don't hypo and die during the night. Seriously? Should I really have to do that when I'm 18? That should be reserved for when you're 70 and about to kick the bucket. (Just a side note, it's very weird to literally have your life in your hands. I don't take my insulin, I die next week. I inject too much long and short acting insulin before bed, I die during my sleep. That's way too close for comfort)
I hate that I constantly have to deal with people asking 'Can you eat that?' I don't know, can I punch you in the face? You wouldn't go up to a fat person and tell them that eating that second helping of cake will kill them, why do people think it's ok to tell me? I know what I’m putting into my body, its no-one’s business but my own.
I hate that travelling during my gap year brings me a whole lot more complications than everyone else I’m with. Getting through customs with 3 months supplies of needles, then trying to keep your insulin at the right temperature when you're tramping through some European forest is not fun. The worst part is when I’m making new friends in a bar somewhere, and everyone is sitting down to eat some £2 pizza, but then I have to slink off to the toilet and inject like some druggie because I don't know them well enough to whip my needle out.
I hate sticking a needle into myself every time I eat, and pricking my finger 6 times a day.
I have pricked my finger around 2190 times and injected myself 1825 times since this time last year. My stomach and fingertips are like a permanent pin cushion, I have never had so many bruises at one time. (My pet hate is now people complaining about injections. Don't do it around me, there is a high chance I will take my own personal needle out and stab you with it.)
I hate hypos. Hypos suck. They always happen during an exam, an important talk with someone, or somewhere really inconvenient like the middle of assembly or meeting new people. Maintaining a conversation when you can't feel your hands and feet, and you're seeing triple, while your heart beats a million times a second and your skin goes clammy is not the best way to make the greatest first impression. I hate that this is chronic, and will never go away.
I hate that it never takes a break. I have to worry about my health 24/7. If I take a break, I get very sick. I can't forget about my diabetes, it's constantly there, and at times that is so hard that I want to pack it all in.
Most of all, I hate that diabetes makes me ask for help. I have to be reliant on other people when I can't take care of myself anymore. I'm supposed to take care of others, not the other way around! Having a hypo on the floor while a friend runs for my jellybeans makes me feel so tiny and useless, I can't stand it.
However, I've also learnt a lot this past year, and in some ways diabetes has been a gift.
I have realised how lucky I am to be healthy (well, relatively speaking!). Sure, I may get complications in the future, but at the moment I am your typical 19 year old. I work, travel, drink cheap beer and sleep in until 2 on a Sunday afternoon. I'm not constantly stuck in a hospital, and I don't have a terminal disease. Sure, it's lifelong, but I can live with it.
I have discovered what amazing, incredible people I have in my life. My family found that handling me going through year 12 and diabetes was difficult, to say the least (understatement of the year!). Dealing with my massive hypos, bitchy-blood-sugar-is-28 Georgie, regular breakdowns and listening to me sobbing on the floor when I ‘just couldn’t do it any more’...there are no words to describe how much I owe them. Without my family, I don't know where I'd be. My aunts, uncles, grandparents – I am the luckiest person in the world to have a family like mine, and it has taken diabetes to show me that.
I don't know what I would have done without the support of my friends this year. When they looked at me injecting for the first time, and didn't look away in disgust but gave me a hug and said how brave and 'bad-ass' I was to do that, it meant the world to me. Even the jokes we made about my diabetes helped! I was the resident ‘insulin junkie’ and the willing scapegoat whenever we went out. What do we do to excuse our inability to ever be on time? 'Sorry we're late, Georgie's had a hypo again, we had to stop off at 7/11.' (Lies, we're just constantly late and constantly hungry.). The amount they cared was incredible, asking what to do when I went hypo, and doing it every time, no questions asked, was so much help to me. They even offered – no, insisted – on learning how to inject me with glucagen if I fell unconscious! Calling my hypo fixes 'special Georgie food', checking if I was low whenever I was quiet, sad or just not looking quite right...taking on my issues when they all had their own as well?! Amazing. Diabetes made me realise how incredibly lucky I am to have friends like I have. They accepted it as a part of me, and made my year a whole lot easier.
Diabetes made me grow up. I took on stuff I shouldn't have to, but at the same time I've come to a realisation that I am blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life, so many incredible experiences, and that I am a lot tougher than I think. As one of my very best friends told me in the weeks following my diagnosis, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Happy diabetes-versary to me.
This time last year I was in a hospital room, with drips coming out of both arms and wondering what the hell was happening to me. Now it's a year since then, and I can't believe 365 days has gone that fast. 7 March 2010 was the day that changed my life forever.
I hated it, and I still hate it.
I hate that after my diagnosis, I cried myself to sleep for months.
I hate that I spent the first few months of my year 12 in hospitals, waiting rooms and doctors’ offices instead of bars and clubs. Turning 18 is not as fun when you’re spending your Friday night with your endocrinologist.
I HATE that my ATAR was lower than it could have been, because I spent my year trying to stay on top of study and a chronic illness. Try battling high blood sugars and a pile of international politics reading at the same time – it’s the furthest thing from easy.
I hate that everything I do – dancing, sport, even an extended walk to the shops - has to be calculated down to the degree, because the tiniest margin of error can result in my entire body flipping out.
I hate that before I go to bed, I have to check my blood glucose level just to make sure that I don't hypo and die during the night. Seriously? Should I really have to do that when I'm 18? That should be reserved for when you're 70 and about to kick the bucket. (Just a side note, it's very weird to literally have your life in your hands. I don't take my insulin, I die next week. I inject too much long and short acting insulin before bed, I die during my sleep. That's way too close for comfort)
I hate that I constantly have to deal with people asking 'Can you eat that?' I don't know, can I punch you in the face? You wouldn't go up to a fat person and tell them that eating that second helping of cake will kill them, why do people think it's ok to tell me? I know what I’m putting into my body, its no-one’s business but my own.
I hate that travelling during my gap year brings me a whole lot more complications than everyone else I’m with. Getting through customs with 3 months supplies of needles, then trying to keep your insulin at the right temperature when you're tramping through some European forest is not fun. The worst part is when I’m making new friends in a bar somewhere, and everyone is sitting down to eat some £2 pizza, but then I have to slink off to the toilet and inject like some druggie because I don't know them well enough to whip my needle out.
I hate sticking a needle into myself every time I eat, and pricking my finger 6 times a day.
I have pricked my finger around 2190 times and injected myself 1825 times since this time last year. My stomach and fingertips are like a permanent pin cushion, I have never had so many bruises at one time. (My pet hate is now people complaining about injections. Don't do it around me, there is a high chance I will take my own personal needle out and stab you with it.)
I hate hypos. Hypos suck. They always happen during an exam, an important talk with someone, or somewhere really inconvenient like the middle of assembly or meeting new people. Maintaining a conversation when you can't feel your hands and feet, and you're seeing triple, while your heart beats a million times a second and your skin goes clammy is not the best way to make the greatest first impression. I hate that this is chronic, and will never go away.
I hate that it never takes a break. I have to worry about my health 24/7. If I take a break, I get very sick. I can't forget about my diabetes, it's constantly there, and at times that is so hard that I want to pack it all in.
Most of all, I hate that diabetes makes me ask for help. I have to be reliant on other people when I can't take care of myself anymore. I'm supposed to take care of others, not the other way around! Having a hypo on the floor while a friend runs for my jellybeans makes me feel so tiny and useless, I can't stand it.
However, I've also learnt a lot this past year, and in some ways diabetes has been a gift.
I have realised how lucky I am to be healthy (well, relatively speaking!). Sure, I may get complications in the future, but at the moment I am your typical 19 year old. I work, travel, drink cheap beer and sleep in until 2 on a Sunday afternoon. I'm not constantly stuck in a hospital, and I don't have a terminal disease. Sure, it's lifelong, but I can live with it.
I have discovered what amazing, incredible people I have in my life. My family found that handling me going through year 12 and diabetes was difficult, to say the least (understatement of the year!). Dealing with my massive hypos, bitchy-blood-sugar-is-28 Georgie, regular breakdowns and listening to me sobbing on the floor when I ‘just couldn’t do it any more’...there are no words to describe how much I owe them. Without my family, I don't know where I'd be. My aunts, uncles, grandparents – I am the luckiest person in the world to have a family like mine, and it has taken diabetes to show me that.
I don't know what I would have done without the support of my friends this year. When they looked at me injecting for the first time, and didn't look away in disgust but gave me a hug and said how brave and 'bad-ass' I was to do that, it meant the world to me. Even the jokes we made about my diabetes helped! I was the resident ‘insulin junkie’ and the willing scapegoat whenever we went out. What do we do to excuse our inability to ever be on time? 'Sorry we're late, Georgie's had a hypo again, we had to stop off at 7/11.' (Lies, we're just constantly late and constantly hungry.). The amount they cared was incredible, asking what to do when I went hypo, and doing it every time, no questions asked, was so much help to me. They even offered – no, insisted – on learning how to inject me with glucagen if I fell unconscious! Calling my hypo fixes 'special Georgie food', checking if I was low whenever I was quiet, sad or just not looking quite right...taking on my issues when they all had their own as well?! Amazing. Diabetes made me realise how incredibly lucky I am to have friends like I have. They accepted it as a part of me, and made my year a whole lot easier.
Diabetes made me grow up. I took on stuff I shouldn't have to, but at the same time I've come to a realisation that I am blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life, so many incredible experiences, and that I am a lot tougher than I think. As one of my very best friends told me in the weeks following my diagnosis, ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Happy diabetes-versary to me.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Awkward moment of the week - Watching netball on Wednesday night, I was cheering on the U12s and started up a conversation with the parents next to me. We were chatting away until one of them says 'So, which one is yours?' I spluttered, nearly choking on my tea and said 'Excuse me?'. The mother looked really confused and said 'Which one is your daughter?'. I laughed and told her that I was a gap teacher, and I have never seen someone go that red in my entire life! Poor lady.
Thursday and Friday I was at the IAPS tournament with the Godstowe netball squads. It's been lovely, I've taken two days off 'work' and have watched a million games of netball instead!
It was very weird though. Standing on the sidelines here, I was minding hotpacks and holding blankets for when the girls came off to keep them warm, whereas back home I would have been holding a water spray bottle to cool them down! On Thursday I ended up doing the timing for the entire tournament...all day...I was freaking out, if I rang the siren at the wrong time (I rang it for the start, half time and the end), there would be furious coaches and mothers upon me in seconds. Angry PE teachers are not to be crossed. It was freezing, the girls repeatedly exclaimed 'Miss Peters, your lips are like, blue!' I had 6 layers on...thermals, singlet, long top, rugby jumper, hoodie and fleece jacket - and I was still cold. The girls didn't go so well, but they had fun!
Friday was really fun :) the U12s and U13s came runner-up, which means that they're through to Nationals!! That's this weekend, and I'm pretty sure I'm heading up to Brighton with them for that. The games were only 10 minutes long so it was intense, LH and I were jumping up and down screaming and clapping and running into big team hugs whenever we won a match. They played so well, and tried their absolute hardest, I'm so proud of them!
This weekend was Open Day on Saturday, so all the teacher gaps had to work :( but Rose and I helped out with Cookery :) All we had to do was help the girls make cookies, and then eat the cookies, so pretty much I got paid to eat mixture and put cookies in the oven. Yummm. After we had all had lunch and Open Day was over, I headed down with the boarders to see 'Goodnight Mr. Tom' at the Wycombe Swan Theatre. It was beautiful. I love that book, and seeing the play was fantastic. Such a good book!!
Saturday night Aisling and I headed into London to Shepards Bush (such a funny name hahaha) to meet Kate and Em, and a couple of their friends. It was such a fun night, details of which will be disclosed in emails and letters, not on blogs! We stayed at Kate's, then headed home today. We met the boarders coming down the hill to go to the cinema as we were doing the walk of shame up it, so we went down into town with them and saw a movie :)
Not an incredibly exciting couple of days, but I thought I should keep blogging, so I don't fall out of the habit and I have this to remember this time next year!
Thursday and Friday I was at the IAPS tournament with the Godstowe netball squads. It's been lovely, I've taken two days off 'work' and have watched a million games of netball instead!
It was very weird though. Standing on the sidelines here, I was minding hotpacks and holding blankets for when the girls came off to keep them warm, whereas back home I would have been holding a water spray bottle to cool them down! On Thursday I ended up doing the timing for the entire tournament...all day...I was freaking out, if I rang the siren at the wrong time (I rang it for the start, half time and the end), there would be furious coaches and mothers upon me in seconds. Angry PE teachers are not to be crossed. It was freezing, the girls repeatedly exclaimed 'Miss Peters, your lips are like, blue!' I had 6 layers on...thermals, singlet, long top, rugby jumper, hoodie and fleece jacket - and I was still cold. The girls didn't go so well, but they had fun!
Friday was really fun :) the U12s and U13s came runner-up, which means that they're through to Nationals!! That's this weekend, and I'm pretty sure I'm heading up to Brighton with them for that. The games were only 10 minutes long so it was intense, LH and I were jumping up and down screaming and clapping and running into big team hugs whenever we won a match. They played so well, and tried their absolute hardest, I'm so proud of them!
This weekend was Open Day on Saturday, so all the teacher gaps had to work :( but Rose and I helped out with Cookery :) All we had to do was help the girls make cookies, and then eat the cookies, so pretty much I got paid to eat mixture and put cookies in the oven. Yummm. After we had all had lunch and Open Day was over, I headed down with the boarders to see 'Goodnight Mr. Tom' at the Wycombe Swan Theatre. It was beautiful. I love that book, and seeing the play was fantastic. Such a good book!!
Saturday night Aisling and I headed into London to Shepards Bush (such a funny name hahaha) to meet Kate and Em, and a couple of their friends. It was such a fun night, details of which will be disclosed in emails and letters, not on blogs! We stayed at Kate's, then headed home today. We met the boarders coming down the hill to go to the cinema as we were doing the walk of shame up it, so we went down into town with them and saw a movie :)
Not an incredibly exciting couple of days, but I thought I should keep blogging, so I don't fall out of the habit and I have this to remember this time next year!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Berlin half-term
Let's just start off by saying that I was NOT keen on Berlin on the first day. I have never been that cold. In my entire life. My circulation. which is already shitty, completely went to pieces. $10 my fingers drop off in the next 5 years.
First impressions were pretty good. After catching the plane to Tegel Airport and finding the bus to get us to Mitte, then driving past the Brandenburg Gate (which looks amazing at night, finally arriving at our hostel (which was amazing!) made me really excited. Aisling, Yve and I discovered a black and white photobooth acorss the road, so that was definitely the highlight of that day! We all hung out in the bar for a bit and got to sleep at about 1am - sitting down on planes, trains and buses makes you exhuasted!
On Sunday we headed to a Flea Market, but got lost along the way and ended up conveniently at a Berlin Wall museum. We walked the whole way that day, it was so ridiculously cold and I stupidly decided to wear flats..DON'T DO IT. Flats are meant for Australia and that is it. Anyway there was a bit of the Berlin Wall preserved as it was, and the 'death strip' right behind it, so it was very cool and weird to touch a part of something which used to be so important. It was also weird taking a photo in front of it - do you smile in front of something like that? You can't exactly pull a sad face, that would just be silly. After walking through the memorial gardens next to it we finally found our flea market, which was very German. I bought a vintage 60s brooch for €5!
We had dinner, then Aisling and I decided to go for a wander. It was 10.30 on a Sunday night, so we found a couple of cool bars (and one very dodgy one) but eventually decided to head back to the bar to meet some of our fellow travellers. We ended talking to this guy from Chile called JP and scoring some free drinks, and a couple of his mates who were American. We were, and until we left, the youngest people in the bar, lots were around 23,24, with a fair few being 27! Before we headed up to bed we bumped into J, who we ended up seeing somehow every night until we left!
Monday we headed to Checkpoint Chairlie and the Jewish museum. I sacrificed the balls of my feet for warm feet - wore my heeled leather boots, and have never felt more European in my life, walkng along cobblestone streets in -6! Checkpoint Charlie was awesome, although it is very touristy. Year 11 history came flooding back, Aidling and I got so excited reading about things we had written essays about. The Jewish museum was cool, very modern on the inside and really made you think, especially this modern art installation by an Israeli artist. There was this huge dark room about 4 floors high, full of strange angles and shadows, which contained 10 000 'faces' - heavy iron rudimentary faces representing the victims of war. Eventually I got lost and we all made our way back to the Brandenburg Gate and the Holocaust Memorial, just around the corner. The Holocaust Memorial is actually called the 'Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe'. There are other memorials around the city to other victims of the holocaust - there was one recognising people that were persecuted because of being homosexual, but I never got to see it. I can't really describe th memorial - it's really touching, has to be seen.
We got back, I took a 4 hour nap (being cold is tiring!) then a couple of us headed back up to the bar, and spent th night with some Americans and Canadians. It was a good night, lots of chatting, beer and jagerbombs and we headed to a club around the corner afterwards. They played Monty Python, so I was sold. I came home high as a kite and checked twitter before I went to bed, then saw that Christchurch had had another earthquake, so spent a very stressful hour looking at breaking news articles and seeing if people we knew were ok - I never really appreciated how much it meant to me until we moved away! Seeing the image of the cathedral and main square nearly broke my heart...
Tuesday we did a walking tour, which was really really good, gave me a much larger appreciation of the city I was in. Our tour guide was great, really passionate about what he does, and Aisling and I promptly decided to buy a postcard to send to Mr. Allan, to thank him for making us into such history nerds. I learned so many more things about WWII, the Cold War and Soviet Germany, so interesting. One of the best bits (although best is probably not the best word) was standing in Bebelplatz - crazy! That night we met some Argentinians and a Brazilian, good night!
(can you tell I'm getting tired of typing...)
Wednesday we went to a concentration camp about 40 minutes out of Berlin, called Sachsenhausen. After chatting to our new American friends on the train we hopped off and walked down to the camp, along the same streets as the prisoners would have (I'll just say now that's it's a weird feeling wrting about a concentration camp in a travel blog, it left a real impact on me and it's very hard to describe). Later on we found out that many of the houses along those streets were built by the prisoners for the German officers. As we walked through it it felt really strange - the fact that where we were standing was where tens of thousands of prisoners stood, shivering and near death, was nearly imposssible to imagine. Our guide took us around the whole camp and explained the general ins-and-outs of a concentration, some of which I knew already thanks to History and my general nerdiness, but a lot of which I didn't. For example, when the soldiers executed a political or important prisoner, they would cremate them and dump the ashes into a massive pit full of other peoples. They would then send a note to the person's family saying 'We have executed your spouse, for a small fee we can give you his remains.' The family would pay that fee, and the soldiers would literally go to this pit full of ashes, dip an urn in and fill it with the ashes of several people, none of whom would be the deceased. Is that not horrible? The whole dehumanisation of the prisoners, when their hair was shaved and their possessions taken from them, as well as their name, made me feel sick.They were degraded beneath human dignity, torn apart from their families...I can never imagine being in that position. You can see why some people still maintain the Holocaust didn't happen, because the stark reality of it is makes you want to be sick.
We spent nearly a whole day there, as it was quite large. There was an extermination chamber, as well as medical facilities where experiments were carried out. I don't particularly want to write anymore, there's not much else to be said except that visiting somewhere like that is something everyone needs to do, because it makes what the Holocaust so much more real.
Thursday Aisling and I spent the day being tourists in Berlin while the others went to the TV tower. We walked to the East Side Gallery, which took forever but was totally worth it once we got ther. I still haven't uploaded photos of it, promise I will soon Mum! It was the longest stretch of the Berlin Wall I had seen, and the art on it was awesome - wooo political art! We headed back, had dinner, then after a couple of hours at the bar we headed out with the Australian boys and American girls, plus a few Englishmen for good mention, Oh, the Australian boys? From Melbourne. One from Melbourne High. Typical. We go to Germany and we still end up bumping into MHS boys. That night was the best yet. We ended up in this club in some warehouse in East Berlin and didn't get home until 6am. WOOO!
Friday Aisling Janet and I slept in until 3, and felt horrible because while we were sleeping off our big night the others had gotten up and headed to Potsdam, some place outside Berlin with lots of beautiful old palaces. Bad tourists. Anyway we made the most of it and had a leisurely lunch, then headed up to the bar for one last big night before we left. I can't really remember much of it, but Aisling and I didn't sleep...
.....so going back to England was not fun. Aisling, Janet and I had been out all night, so getting on a train, then a bus, then a plane while hungover and cold was not fun in the slightest. I slept the whole way back to England, and the whole way on the bus back to High Wycombe.
I had babysitting that night, which went quite well apart from the fact that they got backat 1.30 and I had to sit on the cold tiles to keep myself awake! :) The house was amazing, their loft was from the 14th century....what?!
Phew! and that's Berlin. I feel like I've done a marathon, but typing style!
First impressions were pretty good. After catching the plane to Tegel Airport and finding the bus to get us to Mitte, then driving past the Brandenburg Gate (which looks amazing at night, finally arriving at our hostel (which was amazing!) made me really excited. Aisling, Yve and I discovered a black and white photobooth acorss the road, so that was definitely the highlight of that day! We all hung out in the bar for a bit and got to sleep at about 1am - sitting down on planes, trains and buses makes you exhuasted!
On Sunday we headed to a Flea Market, but got lost along the way and ended up conveniently at a Berlin Wall museum. We walked the whole way that day, it was so ridiculously cold and I stupidly decided to wear flats..DON'T DO IT. Flats are meant for Australia and that is it. Anyway there was a bit of the Berlin Wall preserved as it was, and the 'death strip' right behind it, so it was very cool and weird to touch a part of something which used to be so important. It was also weird taking a photo in front of it - do you smile in front of something like that? You can't exactly pull a sad face, that would just be silly. After walking through the memorial gardens next to it we finally found our flea market, which was very German. I bought a vintage 60s brooch for €5!
We had dinner, then Aisling and I decided to go for a wander. It was 10.30 on a Sunday night, so we found a couple of cool bars (and one very dodgy one) but eventually decided to head back to the bar to meet some of our fellow travellers. We ended talking to this guy from Chile called JP and scoring some free drinks, and a couple of his mates who were American. We were, and until we left, the youngest people in the bar, lots were around 23,24, with a fair few being 27! Before we headed up to bed we bumped into J, who we ended up seeing somehow every night until we left!
Monday we headed to Checkpoint Chairlie and the Jewish museum. I sacrificed the balls of my feet for warm feet - wore my heeled leather boots, and have never felt more European in my life, walkng along cobblestone streets in -6! Checkpoint Charlie was awesome, although it is very touristy. Year 11 history came flooding back, Aidling and I got so excited reading about things we had written essays about. The Jewish museum was cool, very modern on the inside and really made you think, especially this modern art installation by an Israeli artist. There was this huge dark room about 4 floors high, full of strange angles and shadows, which contained 10 000 'faces' - heavy iron rudimentary faces representing the victims of war. Eventually I got lost and we all made our way back to the Brandenburg Gate and the Holocaust Memorial, just around the corner. The Holocaust Memorial is actually called the 'Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe'. There are other memorials around the city to other victims of the holocaust - there was one recognising people that were persecuted because of being homosexual, but I never got to see it. I can't really describe th memorial - it's really touching, has to be seen.
We got back, I took a 4 hour nap (being cold is tiring!) then a couple of us headed back up to the bar, and spent th night with some Americans and Canadians. It was a good night, lots of chatting, beer and jagerbombs and we headed to a club around the corner afterwards. They played Monty Python, so I was sold. I came home high as a kite and checked twitter before I went to bed, then saw that Christchurch had had another earthquake, so spent a very stressful hour looking at breaking news articles and seeing if people we knew were ok - I never really appreciated how much it meant to me until we moved away! Seeing the image of the cathedral and main square nearly broke my heart...
Tuesday we did a walking tour, which was really really good, gave me a much larger appreciation of the city I was in. Our tour guide was great, really passionate about what he does, and Aisling and I promptly decided to buy a postcard to send to Mr. Allan, to thank him for making us into such history nerds. I learned so many more things about WWII, the Cold War and Soviet Germany, so interesting. One of the best bits (although best is probably not the best word) was standing in Bebelplatz - crazy! That night we met some Argentinians and a Brazilian, good night!
(can you tell I'm getting tired of typing...)
Wednesday we went to a concentration camp about 40 minutes out of Berlin, called Sachsenhausen. After chatting to our new American friends on the train we hopped off and walked down to the camp, along the same streets as the prisoners would have (I'll just say now that's it's a weird feeling wrting about a concentration camp in a travel blog, it left a real impact on me and it's very hard to describe). Later on we found out that many of the houses along those streets were built by the prisoners for the German officers. As we walked through it it felt really strange - the fact that where we were standing was where tens of thousands of prisoners stood, shivering and near death, was nearly imposssible to imagine. Our guide took us around the whole camp and explained the general ins-and-outs of a concentration, some of which I knew already thanks to History and my general nerdiness, but a lot of which I didn't. For example, when the soldiers executed a political or important prisoner, they would cremate them and dump the ashes into a massive pit full of other peoples. They would then send a note to the person's family saying 'We have executed your spouse, for a small fee we can give you his remains.' The family would pay that fee, and the soldiers would literally go to this pit full of ashes, dip an urn in and fill it with the ashes of several people, none of whom would be the deceased. Is that not horrible? The whole dehumanisation of the prisoners, when their hair was shaved and their possessions taken from them, as well as their name, made me feel sick.They were degraded beneath human dignity, torn apart from their families...I can never imagine being in that position. You can see why some people still maintain the Holocaust didn't happen, because the stark reality of it is makes you want to be sick.
We spent nearly a whole day there, as it was quite large. There was an extermination chamber, as well as medical facilities where experiments were carried out. I don't particularly want to write anymore, there's not much else to be said except that visiting somewhere like that is something everyone needs to do, because it makes what the Holocaust so much more real.
Thursday Aisling and I spent the day being tourists in Berlin while the others went to the TV tower. We walked to the East Side Gallery, which took forever but was totally worth it once we got ther. I still haven't uploaded photos of it, promise I will soon Mum! It was the longest stretch of the Berlin Wall I had seen, and the art on it was awesome - wooo political art! We headed back, had dinner, then after a couple of hours at the bar we headed out with the Australian boys and American girls, plus a few Englishmen for good mention, Oh, the Australian boys? From Melbourne. One from Melbourne High. Typical. We go to Germany and we still end up bumping into MHS boys. That night was the best yet. We ended up in this club in some warehouse in East Berlin and didn't get home until 6am. WOOO!
Friday Aisling Janet and I slept in until 3, and felt horrible because while we were sleeping off our big night the others had gotten up and headed to Potsdam, some place outside Berlin with lots of beautiful old palaces. Bad tourists. Anyway we made the most of it and had a leisurely lunch, then headed up to the bar for one last big night before we left. I can't really remember much of it, but Aisling and I didn't sleep...
.....so going back to England was not fun. Aisling, Janet and I had been out all night, so getting on a train, then a bus, then a plane while hungover and cold was not fun in the slightest. I slept the whole way back to England, and the whole way on the bus back to High Wycombe.
I had babysitting that night, which went quite well apart from the fact that they got backat 1.30 and I had to sit on the cold tiles to keep myself awake! :) The house was amazing, their loft was from the 14th century....what?!
Phew! and that's Berlin. I feel like I've done a marathon, but typing style!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)