A Boring Case
After the finger escapade, I kind of assumed life would slowly return to its usual rhythm of mildly chaotic normalcy, albeit with the addition of a bunch of injections and an added 200 or so daily decisions to make, and in a way it did.
29 January 2025
By this point, I’d become a regular with the plastic surgery and hand therapy teams, but it was finally time for my first appointment with the diabetes services team. Here I met my diabetes specialist nurse (DSN) for the first time, who assures me that I have been coping with my diabetes exceptionally well but that I may well be in the honeymoon period. This is when your pancreas is still clinging on, producing a bit of insulin, and generally masking your errors as you try to balance the amount of insulin you take versus the amount of carbs you’re shoving in.
We started to look through my tests results and then the DSN paused. Apparently my bloods didn’t show any of the usual antibodies linked to pancreatic cell damage, which is a little unusual but not entirely uncommon, as autoantibody-negative type 1 diabetes is a thing. However, it occurs to them that one of the consultants is sitting free in the room next door, and they instruct me to wait whilst they go and fetch them.
After a brief spell of ear-dropping, as I can hear what’s being discussed through the wall, the DSN returns with the consultant. They ask me a few simple questions, one of which inevitably touched on me being a recovering alcoholic, a fact I will never shy from and indeed bring up fairly promptly. The consultant mused for a bit and then asked, “Would you mind doing some extra bloods for us?” to which I nodded in the affirmative. Off they went to arrange them, and I could practically hear the consultant’s lightbulb turn on in the next room.
They bounce back into the room, and this time ask if I’d be happy to have a CT scan, but warned that it’d need an injection. I couldn’t help but laugh; as an insulin-dependent diabetic, another needle isn’t exactly going to be a problem.
I start to apologise to the consultant that my condition is being a little bit complicated, but I was quickly interrupted and told: “actually Mark, you’re quite boring.” And honestly? I thanked them. It was the most reassuring thing I’d heard in weeks. Their confidence, to me anyway, meant they were pretty sure that my diabetes was likely caused by pancreatitis or similar, thanks to my previous alcohol abuse, and that nothing more exotic was going on. A CT scan of my pancreas and abdomen was booked, with a few appointments with the DSN and the dietician a couple of days beforehand.
19 February 2025
The appointments before the CT went fine, and indeed, again I was complimented on my extraordinary glucose management (85% in range) and once more it was suggested that this could be because of honeymooning. For the first time I was asked about my GI health, and I did highlight that I was having some issues with the digestion of fat, and the dietitian suggested that we should probably look at starting to use pancreatic enzyme replacement therapy, but they weren’t entirely convinced it was necessary as I was still putting on weight.
21 February 2025
CT day comes and goes, a mildly pleasant experience to be honest with a very nice radiographer and nurse combo.
And then… nothing. A few weeks fly by and still nothing other than an appointment to see the diabetes consultant again towards the end of April. This radio silence felt quite reassuring, to be honest with you, and as we’ve all heard: “no news is good news!”.