Saturday, 26 October 2013

Diabetic conversations

When I was diagnosed with type one I was attending school at the lower site of my school because I was only in Year 8, when I got to Year 9 another type one diabetic girl had just come into Year 7, she was always in the room with me whilst we did injections. Suddenly I wasn't alone any more. Well, the only problem was that she was slightly rude and not easy to talk to at all; very dismissive. 

Anyway the time rolled around and I moved up to the upper site because I went into Year 10. Now two years later, the diabetic girl has moved up to the upper site too. She's much nicer now. 

I saw her in the corridor last week and she came up to me and said hello, and she said;

"Are you on a pump now?"
"Yes I am"
"Oh cool"
"Are you?"
"No I'm not" 

That was it. That was as far as the conversation got but my friend then turned to me and said, "That's a conversation only diabetics can have!" and it's true. Who else can randomly have a conversation in the middle of the corridor about an insulin pump? I know I can't have a conversation like that with my friends even if it's a short conversation. 

I had a message on my phone a few days ago from my diabetic best friend, Paris. She lives in the USA and we have been talking since March. We clicked instantly and I have talked to her pretty much every day since. She is a twin like me, her twin doesn't have diabetes; just like my twin. I love Paris because even though we haven't met and have been talking for less than a year, I feel like I've known her for years.

The message read: "Your Par Par is tired of diabetes Ellie." 
I felt sad, because I've always seen her stay so positive about type 1 but she's been having a rough time lately and I guess- sometimes it just gets too much. This is the rest of the conversation:

"Me too Paris"
":'( :'( :'( :'("
"What's been happening with it?"
"My blood sugars are soo BAD! 400* all the time. My energy is gone too, so tired and those needles are so painful. I don't even have energy to eat so I just eat candy to keep my blood sugar up the last three days"
"Aww:( Yeah I feel like that a lot." 
"Yeah! I went to wash my hair and in the middle of it I just shut down and I lay there for a while. My mum keeps saying to have vitamins but it's not working" 
"Aww, some days I feel like giving up too. I cry sometimes and I feel angry because it's hard and everyone around me doesn't understand" 
"I know!! My mum is so mean about it and it makes it worse. Everyone thinks they know what they're talking about. I cry every single day. I feel like I'm going to give up" 
"My mummy isn't mean to me about it- but she said the other day 'It's not difficult Els, just do it!' but I really can't sometimes"
"Exactly! Especially since we're teenagers and diabetes is a huge responsibility. My mom tries to help me by searching for ways to keep my blood sugar balanced but if I tell her something is wrong she just says 'oh' no words of support or wisdom"
"My mummy gives me words of wisdom and tries to help me but :( I feel like nothing is helping me now. I'm so totally stuck" 
"Meeee Tooooo!!! I need a vacation or something needs to change :'( :'(" 
"We need a cure"
"Yeahh:( Sometimes when I think this is a life-long thing I freak out. We need a cureeee!
"Yeah:( Even as soon as I leave the house I can never relax because I'm thinking about diabetes 24/7. It's so annoying!" 
"Yeah and people say it isn't your life and it's just 'a bit on the side' but it is my life. It's what could take my life and looking after it is what's going to allow me to live my life" 
"Exactly. I hate when my doctor says that. I feel like it's completely my life sometimes." 

*Paris said 400 because in the USA blood sugar is measured in mg/dl.

I don't know about you...but I know this isn't a conversation two teenage girls should be having.

But the amazing thing about this conversation is how much we understand each other. It's so easy to talk to Paris because she knows exactly how I feel and I know how she feels. That's what I love about talking to other diabetics. 

But my point for this blog post is that it's an amazing feeling when you talk to someone and everything they say you just think "Exactly!" It's a weight lifted off my shoulders to know that I'm talking about diabetes to someone who truly understands what we go through every day. That also goes for the people on the #DOC and for the times when my family understand- even if it's just a little. A little goes a long way. 

Saturday, 19 October 2013

Who am I?


I'm Ellie,
I'm sixteen years old.
I was born on July 18th 1997.
I live in London with my mum, dad, brother and twin sister.
I have a cat, Fudge- and two bunnies called Fred and Perry.
I'm really family oriented, but I have great friends.
My mum is my inspiration.
I'm obsessed with the sky, I think it's so pretty.
My favourite season is Spring.
I'm really afraid of wasps and bees.
I like listening to music, I get through way too many headphones.
I'm in Year 12.
I study History, Psychology,  Media and English Literature.
I really like the colour, Coral.
I'm tall for my age at 5 ft 10.
I like early summer mornings- the air is really fresh.
I'm more of a fruit-eater than vegetables.
I love sunny evenings- I like to sit in the garden as the sun sets.
People say I can type really fast.
I'm quite sarcastic.
I like to read although I don't read nearly as much as I should/want to.
I got a red belt in Karate a few years ago- then I quit.
I got an A* in GCSE History.
I love sausages and mash.
I'm afraid of heights.
I don't like loud noises- they hurt my ears.
I used to love Roller-coasters...then I realised I was afraid of heights.
I find twinkly lights really pretty.
I'm normally quite reserved.
I'm a pretty crazy person if you spend enough time with me.
I'm a cat person. I like puppies but...cats.
I'm obsessed with skittles.
I'm a July baby.

I'm a twin.
I'm a daughter.
I'm a friend.
I'm a niece.
I'm a cousin.
I'm a younger sister.
I'm a granddaughter.
I'm a great- granddaughter.

I'm also Type one diabetic.

There's more to me than Type one diabetes.


Sunday, 13 October 2013


I didn't struggle with it when I was first diagnosed. When the doctor in A&E told me I had Type one diabetes I sort of just...sat there. I accepted it, though. I knew what I had just been told, or did I?

Did I really, truly realise the bigger picture on Type one diabetes aside from the finger pricks and injections? At eleven years old? Nope. No I didn't. Because if I did, the next four and a half years would have been a breeze because maybe, just maybe, I would have been prepared. I mean I guess I was prepared in the sense that I knew high and low symptoms, I knew how to inject, I knew how to test my blood sugar- but it was all still superficial stuff. Stuff that was on the surface. It would probably be better if doctor's and nurses would explain the whole "You will have to inject for the rest of your life. But it will be okay" speech better. Because, yes it will be okay...but four and a half years after that sentence I realise it takes a lot of strength and vigilance to make sure it will really be okay.

You leave the hospital with a false sense of what you had just been thrown into. I don't remember being told that I will have days when I can't manage, that it will upset me sometimes and on a few days of the year I would outright hate it. The implications of a monotonous, 24/7 routine are not yet known...until you learn for yourself. It's all a learning curve, even if it's learning what to do in the event of a low blood sugar, or what to do when you hit a mental block and want to give up for a day.

But I also learned that I can do it. I learned that I can over come these "mental blocks" where my brain almost switches diabetes off all together and says "I'd rather not deal with diabetes today, or the day after, or the day after that" I come to points in my life with Type one diabetes where I feel like things almost become too overwhelming at times- being a teenager I'm constantly on the move with school and the like, so I don't find time to "squeeze" diabetes into a free time frame that I have because I'd rather be doing something else.

That's what I can assume anyway...
Assume? How can I assume something that came straight from my own mind? I can only assume because I do not know.

I don't get why I don't do my blood sugars or give insulin like I'm supposed to, I don't understand why feeling thirsty has become a general everyday feeling for me and some days the feelings just aren't there at's just the blood sugar. The blood sugar that creeps up like a tiger hunting it's prey; it pounces when least expected and it's predictability is unaccountable. Then again neither is mine.

Some days I will have motivation to do what I'm supposed to. I will find my fighting spirit and it will be stronger than ever some days. Then, the next day things can completely change and I will fall out of the routine having only just got back into it the week before- and then I'd have to start all over again. It is tiring, it is tough dealing with an incurable disease that is literally a 24/7 thing. At sixteen years old I feel even more torn.

I don't normally make posts about negative subjects but I have struggled A LOT this year with Type one diabetes more than any previous years.

I am the type of person who does not like to depend too much on others, I don't like to feel like I need help to do something. I know my parents, family and friends all want to help me and I love that they do- I just have a hard time accepting it...probably most because I don't want to burden them with the real, physical (blood sugar checking insulin-giving demands) Type One. It's bad enough that they see me deal with it and it affects them too but then add on them actually having to take on some of the demands- I just couldn't put that strain on them. Ever since I was diagnosed a few weeks shy of my 12th birthday I have seen myself as old enough to do it on my own- and I have done, with my parents love, support and supervision.

Then I ask myself...why now am I feeling as though I need help more than ever now? And it's because I will openly admit that, yes...I am struggling right now.

I know I'm never alone because I have my parents, family, friends and the #GBDOC. And everyone is always there to help me and of course I accept it most times; I just find it difficult to.

Then I always think my parents don't even understand how I feel enough to help me...I'm glad they don't understand it fully, because obviously that means they don't  have D. Then again it makes me sad and I know it upsets them when there always appears to be this glass pane separating our emotions...mine feeling raw in the face of diabetes 24/7, theirs feeling raw in watching it and worrying for me. But I feel it physically and emotionally. Theirs is emotional but I guess maybe the pounding heart and headache stemmed from stress...are physical. But I don't want my parents to be stressed! So I am so TORN. Do I let them help me and effectively throw an extra truck load of worry and responsibility on their shoulders? or not let them help me but try and re-assure them in saying that I will be able to manage this, one day- and the day will come soon.

Although I say they don't understand they are still affected by type one. But they cannot see inside my head, or feel the worry or the fear or the frustration that I feel at not managing my type one the way I should be. I love my parents so much and would never reject their help because I don't want them to help me- of course I do, but then I want to be able to do it on my own and not have to rely on them- it's unfair on them all the more.

I don't even know if that even makes sense.
*Enter frustrated keyboard nonsense here*: bfsngkrfojsejgorengifsjfringijsofrjfsl.

I feel frustrated at the moment and still haven't been able to figure out how I'm going to manage this. The important thing right now is that I have my parents, family and friends all supporting me and encouraging me and doing their VERY best to help me even though they don't fully understand how it all is for me right now. I need to get into a mind-frame where they don't have to understand quite so the moment the way things are going with me and diabetes right now are things even I don't understand.
But I will get there soon, and I am getting there. I'm working on it.


Thursday, 10 October 2013

Diabetic ketoacidosis

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday.
One of the most boring days of my life. This week I had an unfortunate encounter with DKA- for the third time. Third time lucky? No. The third time was actually the worst bout of DKA I've had. From the vomiting, to the extended stay in hospital, to having to be on the adult ward and being bored out of my mind.

And lets not forget my "ward buddies" Pam, Eleni and Maria- all of whom were three very confused old ladies. 

Let me take you back to Sunday.
Sunday morning I woke up at 4am- thirsty. Go downstairs, pet the bunnies, have a drink. Check blood sugar: 12.4. Ok not too bad, just correct and go back to sleep. Obviously diabetes had other ideas for my Sunday. 

When I woke up in the morning I had a really bad headache, blood sugars hardly budged. Staying high at 11.9. I ate breakfast, but not much because I felt sick. Then I did my best to carry on with my day but I was so unbearably weak that I just wanted to sleep by the time it reached midday. I checked BG, my eyes nearly fell out of my head when 16 screamed back at me. Took out the pump for the billionth time, and entered in my blood sugar so I could correct. Then, I waited. 

And fell asleep for ten minutes...and woke up; feeling incredibly groggy. By now my blood sugar had crept up to 20 and decided I should check my ketones with the ketone meter. 
I know that any blood ketone reading above 3 is really bad so my heart skipped a beat. I went downstairs, guzzled two cups of water and changed my infusion site. All the while whilst thinking "Please work please work please work" 

1pm rolled around and I checked my blood sugar. 26.9. WHAT. I was in despair; I had absolutely no idea what was going on and was really fed up by this point. Anyway I asked my mum to get me some more water and we also did a correction with my injection pen- having drank all the water in about ten seconds. I felt the dreaded nauseous feeling and before I knew it I was hunched over the toilet and it felt like my insides were about to fall out. 

Ketone test: 6.6 
Ok, this is bad now.Hospital. 

Here is pretty much how it went after that:

Drive to the Hospital. Bicker with receptionist to be seen quicker than three hours. 
Fifteen minutes later- "Ellie Huckle?" Finally. 
Triage nurse. Blood sugar 26. Heart rate 144 b/pm.
Go through to A&E. See funny Australian doctor. 
Questions asked "How do you think it happened?" "What happened?" blah blah. 
Get I.V's started and sit through painful attempt to take blood from hand, for the record it took two attempts, my veins were not co-operating. Yes I did mean to put the 's there. I had one I.V drip in each arm. How fabulous for me- I literally couldn't move my arms or the FOUR different I.V pumps that were attached to me would start to beep like there was no tomorrow. 

I was in A&E from 2pm till about 10pm on Sunday night. Then I was moved to CDU- Clinical Decisions Unit. Apparently because I am 16 years old now I am seen as an "adult in the eyes of the NHS" so that ws pretty unfortunate because I was literally the youngest person on the ward. I had my blood sugar tested every. single. hour. and had my blood pressure done every four hours. Yes, by every single hour I mean all the way through the night too, but I suppose it was fine because I couldn't sleep anyway, for various reasons... And now you get to hear all about Pamela, Eleni and Maria- the three old ladies who were in the same bay as me. Yippee...

Let me just tell you that Pamela and Maria were highly confused and for the most part did not even know where they were. Maria was cute for the first few hours, then she got incredibly confused. Pamela screamed bloody murder all night and day and well Eleni was just really cute and every time someone spoke to her, the reply was "Meep" 

Maria was irish from what I could gather and very chatty once you got speaking to her...the only problem was that she didn't quite understand what she was actually talking about. She thought she was in a hotel and that we should all go "downstairs for breakfast" so she could get to her room and make herself some tea because it was "raining outside and when it rains you really just want to be in your room with a kitchen and make yourself a drink" I had no idea what to say to her so I just sat and listened. Eventually she would stop chatting away and attempt to get out of bed where she would be greeted by some very panicky nurses repeating "You're in hospital not at home!" 

This all happened on Monday. 

I hardly noticed her on Sunday night- mainly because it was very late and she came in late. I also actually managed to sleep for a little bit on Sunday night, apart from the times I woke up for blood sugar testing and had a venous blood test at 3am Monday morning. The doctor came in at 3am.

-"Ellie, sorry I just have to take some blood!" 
-*wakes up in a bit of a daze* "Okay" 

He took about two minutes pressing on the veins all the way up and down my arms looking for a vein to stab. I had I'V drips in both arms so this made it especially hard for them to find a vein. He had to peel of the I.V adhesive slightly so he could poke the veins that were around there- he literally had to dig the needle around in my vein in the hope that it would give some blood. Nope. Attempt number two. More manipulation of my veins, tiny amount of blood. "That should do!" 

Half an hour later.

"Ellie I'm really sorry but the machine wouldn't process it so I have to do it again!" 

Attempt three- 3rd vein. Third time lucky this time? Yes! Although this time it was taken from a vein further down my arm and it was even more uncomfortable. Oh well at least I could get back to sleep...ha ha what was I thinking? I had about an hours sleep before the 900th blood sugar check and from there on I couldn't fall back to sleep. 

I had my chat with Maria that I mentioned earlier. Then my mum and sister came to sit with me for a while- then mum had to go to work but the Nurses let Lauren stay with me because I was "the baby of the ward" Aw, cute. The 3am blood test showed that I was still slightly acidotic so I had to stay on the I.V drips. Then rolled around the most painful blood test I have ever had. I'm not scared of blood tests but this one freaked me out a little. 

A young (and good looking should I mention) doctor peeked his head round the curtain and once again "Sorry, I'm here to do your blood test!" So he came over to me and noticed the "dilemma" that was, I had two drips in each arm. He disappeared off again and a few minutes later he came back, then he left again and came back with another young and good looking doctor, yes. I'm sorry but they were both good looking! 
So the second doctor sat at the end of my bed and felt for my veins and then he said 

"Okay, there is a different way that we can do this, because you have the drips in both arms. We will have to do an ABG anyway and take blood from your wrist" 
That didn't sound to I just said okay and let them crack on with it. 
He asked for my hand and I had to turn over my wrist to expose all my juicy veins for the needle to violate. 
ABG stands for Arterial Blood Gas. This was no ordinary blood test, they had to get blood from the artery deeper in my wrist and this required a bit more patience, a higher pain tolerance and a longer needle. 

At first it felt, okay...because he only put it into my wrist slightly. Then the next thing you know, he pushes it even further down. It felt like my wrist was cramping up- whilst he was doing this he was basically teaching the other doctor that "this is how you do an ABG" Surprisingly, despite the pain, I didn't flinch. Luckily my pain tolerance is quite high, but my sister was squirming as she watched. He mentioned that I was "dealing with it quite well"...yeah I was dying inside. 

This blood test showed that the acidosis was gone. 

My arm is still suffering the after effects. The bruise was just developing there. My wrist is all the colours of the rainbow now.

I was supposed to go home on Monday but they wanted to keep me in for another night until I got back on my insulin pump and they wanted to make sure my pump kept my blood sugars level and that they stayed stable. I was very sad because I was so bored and Pamela was starting to scare me because she would just randomly wake up and start screaming or being really verbally abusive to everyone. 

Monday night was even worse than Sunday night despite being off of the drips, being back on my own pump and being able to use my OWN pricker to test my blood sugars with because hospital finger prickers are brutal. My fingers are still feeling bruised and it's been nearly two days since I got home. It was only worse because Maria the confused old lady was especially active and decided she would come over to my bed, having wandered around the room- played with Pamela's medicine and shut all of the windows.

"There is someone out there! When you see her at the window, let her in and see what she wants" Guys I am telling you I nearly passed out. She was creeping me out. Obviously I knew there was no one out there but then you get flashbacks of scary films were everyone thought the old lady was crazy but turns out she was actually a witch or something. She was so confused. I mean, earlier on Monday she took her cutlery, stood up feebly, then ran off like speedy gonsalez! I'm telling you, she was constantly on the run. 

I had a 2.8 and a 21.6 on Monday night. Which was really annoying because my sugars had to stay stable in order for me to leave. So I hardly slept at all and woke up properly at about 6am. The nurse had the cheek to say "Good Morning" at 5:30am. I was thinking, are you kidding me?! The sun is not up therefore in my books this is not morning. It's the middle of the night. 

The doctors did their rounds. 
The usual. Hourly BG checks. Ketones gone. Blood sugar 4.5. No more I.V's. Energy back. Eating and drinking. Come on, let me go home! The lady doctor who came round in the morning wanted me to have lunch and see if bg stays stable then I can go home. But then the lovely man from the diabetes team came down to see me and got them to let me go home because he said there was no point in them keeping me there. YES. I was so happy. I got the cannulas taken out of my arms, packed up my stuff and waited for the discharge papers. 

Eleni said meep one more time before we left and Maria and Pamela were snoozing away. I said bye to all the nurses and doctors and was so happy to see the back of that place. The sun was shining and it was a great time. Once I got home I said hello to my bunnies and my sister and I had lunch. Then we both crashed out on the sofa for like, four hours. I showered, went on my computer, checked my e-mails, informed my family and friends on my arrival home and finally got to catch up on cuddles with my mummy and daddy (hehe) and watch TV.

It felt SO good to sleep in my own bed too. Even if mine and my sister's room was very messy it was home. I went back to school the day after I was discharged, on Wednesday. Boy did I have a story to tell all my friends! 

My arms are still sore a couple of days on but I'm okay. My blood sugars are under control and I'm so glad to be out of that hospital. 

DKA is one of the worst things a diabetic could go through. But I survived and although I was getting fed up by day two I kept my head up. I always try to remember that I was given this life because I am strong enough to live it. 


Sunday, 6 October 2013


Sometimes I feel like a large part of our lives depends on, decisions. In the morning, do we decide to have toast or cereal? At school, do we decide to talk or actually listen to the teacher? Do we wear a dress or trousers when getting dressed? All of these are, decisions.

But these are the simple ones- the decisions we make subconsciously, the decisions which may or may not have an impact on our day but I suppose in some cases that's up to us. If you decide not to eat breakfast you'll probably be feeling a little bit embarrassed about a rumbling stomach during a quiet lesson or a meeting. If you decide to listen in class then you will know just that little bit more by the end of the day than you did at the start.

Decisions can be positive...or negative. Like for example making the decision not to help out an elderly person or deciding not to be nice to the people around you for a day. We're normally aware of our negative decisions; the decisions that could reflect on you as a person- the decisions you make might be the judging panel for your peers, for the people who you interact with every day.

There is general decision making. Then, (for me, anyway) there is diabetes decision making.

I have struggled a lot this past year especially, to get to grips with my diabetes control. I haven't been bolusing, I haven't been testing like I should. And then, when I try to explain it in clinic, or to my parents I can never figure out the reason why- then this brings me to question- are we always REALLY aware of our negative decisions? My answer is, no.

The decisions that I made to not do my testing or my bolusing- have not been decisions I was aware of. I know I have been in a state of not wanting to deal with diabetes, but I don't know why. It hardly ever crossed my mind that I wasn't doing what I'm supposed to do. Sometimes it feels like- I'm not diabetic, but I am.

Now after my appointment in clinic on Tuesday I have a bit more decision making to do, especially after two urine tests came back positive for protein twice in a row. My annual review urine analysis test showed positive for protein- so they did another because sometimes it can be a mistake, and the second came back positive. However, it could even be an error on the second time around so I'm doing another in 6 weeks when I go back to clinic- and if that one is positive then it could be kidney damage and that means medicine to protect my kidneys...if it's negative (which I'm sure it will be) then I'm all clear.

My doctor gave me six ideas...on how I can get back under control because my Hba1c is also still 11% and it's just getting to the breaking point now. I just can't carry on barely making it through the days because I always feel so drained. I just feel so irresponsible that I don't do what I'm supposed to, but sometimes I literally cry at the fact that I have NO idea why I don't do it and I can't seem to find my motivation from anywhere. But, I still keep my head up and on Tuesday my doctor said "Don't try to rationalise it. It's like me with my finances, I push them all to the back of my mind even though I know I can get money out of it- but I have no idea why I can't be bothered to do them when it means I'll get something good out of it. But don't try to figure out why you can't do it" so I said okay, and I won't.

Then the DSN saw my ring.

DSN: I bet when you first put on that ring it was really annoying and you really wanted to take it off.
Me: Yeah.
DSN: But you still put it on every morning no matter how annoying it was because it looked good?
Me: Yeah I don't normally wear rings but I've gotten used to them now.
DSN: And now you hardly even notice it because it's routine to put it on.

Then towards the end of the conversation I realised she was using my ring to refer to diabetes. I have lost all sense of routine with my diabetes and I desperately need to get it back.
Anyway here are the six ideas:

1. Work with parents or friends to do boluses each meal.
2. Come to clinic more often
3. Admission to ward to help get back in control.
4. 21 times in a row to get back into routine.
5. Switch back to injections either long term or short term (pump holiday)
6. Meet with our psychology team to help you find motivation.

Let me just explain what is meant by number four. There is a saying that you have to do something 21 times before it becomes a that is why he said that. I'm trying number one at the moment.

I decided that I was going to try and let my family and friends help me do my boluses- and they are reminding me and helping me out, but whenever I do this with them all I realise how much I really don't like it. I don't know why and it's not as if they're all on my back but I just feel like (for me anyway) that it makes diabetes into something bigger for me. They obviously don't do it on purpose but I still feel like maybe, they're taking it as "forcing" well, not forcing I can't really think of the word...but basically, I don't feel like that one is working. Plus, I don't want to be dependent on everyone else I want to really, truly be able to do it on my own. 

And even with them all telling me "make sure you do your blood sugar even when it's not meal times and give yourself your insulin" I still don't do it as much as I should because I just can't find it in my brain to be like "Ellie you have to do your insulin now because you have to" I annoy myself about it because dealing with diabetes isn't at the forefront of my mind even when I eat and that's bad. It should be, and I want it to be. Sort of. 

I wish things were a straight forward answer sometimes. I feel like I'm just being awkward and fussy about it all when I say it's not going right for me- but clearly it's not that easy for my brain just to switch straight back to being "control over diabetes" mode. Wish it was...

Plus, sometimes I just feel like there is too much to distract me from being diligent with diabetes. Like, friends. At school I'm always moving around or doing something so I feel like I never even bother to squeeze in the few minutes that it takes to do my blood sugars. Then all my friends are eating around me and I think "ugh I don't want to test or give insulin" I know that's bad too but it's just the way it is for me. It's kind of the same thing at home too. But at home I feel like it's too easy for me to hide the fact that I don't do what I'm supposed to, it's not because my parents don't pay attention or watch out for me because they do- but yeah. I'm not sure if you get what I mean by that but all this is kinda hard to explain. I wish that I could just let them help me because I know that they really want to but I feel like I need to get back into this routine on my own. Obviously I will still get encouragement from my family and friends but I have to try, to get back into routine independently or I will depend on them to do it all the time and I can't let that happen or put that strain on everyone around me. 

And that makes me lean towards number three...that has been one that I thought I would never consider but after a lot of thinking I feel like it may just be the only one that can help me.

I don't know.

I have to do a little more thinking.

Then maybe I will be able to make my decision.