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Editor’s Note from Christian Martell (Pancreas On Vacation)
I am incredibly honoured to introduce our very first guest writer: Joanne Joan Henning, also known as Lady Wolf Rose. She’s not only a brilliant artist and fellow Type One Diabetic — she’s also my partner. Her story is powerful, poetic, and raw, and it moved me deeply.
This is a story about resilience, pain, humour, and love — and it deserves every moment of your time. Please welcome Joanne to the Pancreas On Vacation crew.

Winter Greetings From South Africa!

By Lady Wolf Rose (Joanne Joan Henning)

Yes, it’s winter in my timezone (and country)! This is my first time being a guest writer for a blog — well, one that isn’t my own — and I am truly honoured to have been invited.

Now you’re probably wondering who I am, right? Well then, let me introduce myself, dear reader. My name is Joanne Joan Henning, also known as Lady Wolf Rose (my artist name). I’m 28 years old, a visual artist and graphic designer, and a fellow Type One Diabetic.

And just one thing — and it’s a big one…
Ready?

I am super proud to say that I am the loving and caring girlfriend of Mr. Pancreas On Vacation himself, Christian Martell.

Christian invited me to write an article for his blog, and I’ve chosen to tell my story — how I became a Type One Diabetic — and close with a very special revelation.

So get comfy, grab some tissues (but don’t check your sense of humour at the door), and read my story with care and understanding.
Let’s begin:

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A Toddler’s Fall — The Day My Life Changed

I had an accident when I was two years old that changed everything. I want to tell this as an educational scenario, especially for any parents reading. It’s a story about a mistake — one that could’ve been avoided — and I urge you not to repeat it.

It was a normal day in our household. My older brother Richard went to work (he worked at a Jewish butchery, though we weren’t Jewish), and my mum, Lauraine, worked from home as a seamstress. I was playing on my brother’s bed — his room wasn’t far from where Mum worked, so she thought I was safe.

But, as toddlers often do (and admittedly, I still don’t listen very well as an adult), I started jumping on the bed. I was having fun until… I fell off. I hit the back of my head hard on the floor. I passed out completely. Thankfully, my mum heard the fall and rushed to me. She scooped me up and ran to the outdoor tap by her workroom. The cold rush of water brought me back — confused and dazed, but conscious.

Over the next few days, I became extremely lethargic, constantly thirsty, needing to urinate, and disoriented. I kept falling over trying to walk. The once-lively toddler was gone.

Worried, my mum took me to the local clinic. They checked my blood glucose — the symptoms were clear. It was 33 mmol (595 mg), and I needed urgent hospitalisation. I was slipping in and out of consciousness.

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A Hospital Christmas — and an Alien Named Dub

I was admitted to Johannesburg General, the very hospital I was born in, on the verge of death. This was December 1998.

The doctors needed to draw blood — something I still hate. When they managed to get a few vials, I kicked the tray and shattered the glass. I panicked, thinking they were hurting me. Nurses had to hold me down, and I screamed. It was, quite literally, a bloody mess.

Later that day, I was moved to the children’s ward. My mum never left my side. The other mums in the ward were kind enough to make a little bed for her so she could stay with me. I was her baby girl — the youngest of three, with a sixteen-year age gap from my brother, and fourteen from my sister (whom I don’t speak of).

I stayed the entire month of December, even celebrating Christmas there. But there were moments of light. I made a friend with a little girl in the bed next to mine. For Christmas, I received dress-up jewellery and a plush alien toy from a cartoon I loved — his name was Dub.

My friend got a toy tea set with a plastic donut, and since Dub loved donuts in the show, I traded all my jewellery for that donut. Later, my brother even glued it to Dub’s hand so I wouldn’t lose it. (And yes, I still have Dub to this day.)

My brother also brought in a little black-and-white TV so I could watch cartoons. I became quite popular in the ward.

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A Lifelong Diagnosis and a Daily Battle

I was diagnosed with Type One Diabetes a few days into my hospital stay. My life would never be the same. In South Africa, getting supplies and medical support is tough — everything costs triple what it does in other countries. I rely on my government for insulin and treatment.

Here’s a point I need to stress:
Type One Diabetes can be caused by sudden physical shock to the body.
That fall changed my entire life. Parents, please — be watchful of your children, especially under age ten. Small accidents can have life-altering consequences.

Since then, life has been a challenge. I can’t remember what “normal” ever felt like. I’ve faced death many times but never gave in — not even on my darkest, sickest days. I owe everything to my mum and brother for being there during countless emergencies.

I still get anxious.
I still get weird readings.
I still mess up sometimes.
But that’s okay. I’ve accepted that I’m different — and that’s its own kind of superpower. We Diabetic Warriors face daily dragons — and we keep showing up.

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The Unexpected Gift of Love

You may be wondering why I wouldn’t trade this life for a “normal” one.

Simple: I never would have met Christian.

Last month, I decided my social media would highlight more than just my art and Ko-fi blog. I started posting about Type One Diabetes, especially after receiving gaslighting messages like “you can’t be that sick.” Ironically, the week I almost stopped posting awareness facts… is the week Christian found one of my posts on Threads.

He commented, I replied, and not long after, I received a kind — and nervously written — email asking about collaborating. I said yes. He was respectful and approached me the right way.

Soon after, I sent him my Snapchat OR code. What I didn’t know was that God and the Universe had a deeper plan.

Despite the distance (Arizona, USA for him, and Modimolle, South Africa for me), we began falling in love. I didn’t believe there was someone out there for me, but God showed me differently.

Being with someone who gets the complexity and mental toll of Type One Diabetes is incredibly rare. This connection is once-in-a-lifetime. The shared understanding, even in silence, is deeply beautiful.

I believe we’ll meet one day — maybe even marry.

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From Cursed Gothic Princess to Found Heart

I thought I was a cursed gothic princess.
Turns out, I was just missing my heart.
And Christian found it.

Thank you for welcoming me into the crew. I’m ready to set sail with you, Captain Vacation, wherever the adventure takes us. Thank you for letting me share my story, and show your readers just how much you mean to me.

🖤
Lady Wolf Rose
—Guest Contributor, Pancreas on Vacation