Hosted by young Aussies Isabella Magee and Sebastian Harris, Life on the level is a podcast that keeps things honest. No sugar-coating, no lectures — just open conversations about what it’s like to live with type 1 diabetes as a young person. The challenges, the awkward moments, the wins you don’t always talk about —it’s all here.  

If you’ve ever felt like no one really “gets it”, this podcast will remind you that you’re not on your own. Or if you know someone with diabetes, it will give you new insights into what it’s really like to live with.  

Season 2 in a nutshell  

This season shares stories that are relatable, reassuring, and inspiring. Isabella and Sebastian chat with guests who manage their diabetes alongside study, work, sport, relationships, mental health, and everything else life throws your way. These episodes make you think, laugh, or just feel seen. 

You can expect conversations about: 

• Navigating a diabetes diagnosis  

• Adjusting to life with type 1 diabetes 

• Managing motivation and mental health 

• Trying new things (and sometimes messing up) 

• Finding confidence, balance, and support 

• Living your life — not letting diabetes call the shots. 

During this season, you’ll hear from young men and women with different experiences, backgrounds, and perspectives with each willing to share their story in the hope that it helps others living with diabetes.  

Who’s joining us this season?  

Here’s a sneak peek at some of the people on the podcast this season: 

• Brodie Sargent on being a country kid and a marathon world record chaser – Kick back with Brodie Sargent, tattoo artist, rugby player, marathon runner, and proud T1D advocate.  Brodie shares his laid-back (but driven) approach to life with type 1, from smashing goals on the field to raising awareness with 50km runs. We dive into his journey, getting inked and why a diagnosis doesn’t define what’s possible.   

• Nikki Findlay on mental health and a life full of adventures – Talking about burnout, anxiety, depression, and other mental health challenges isn’t always easy, especially when you feel invisible. Nikki Findlay is changing that by using her voice to advocate for real, lasting change. In this episode, we sit down for an open and honest conversation about mental health, including discussions around suicide. It might be heavy and, if this one’s not right for you, that’s completely okay. 

• Brett Findlay on parenthood, brain injury, and resilience – At 25, Brett Findlay was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and later experienced a traumatic brain injury due to his diabetes. While his mates were out living their 20s to the fullest, Brett was forced to rebuild his life. In this powerful episode, Seb and Isabella sit down with Brett to talk hypo awareness, healing after trauma, and finding new ways forward. It’s honest, moving, and a reminder that there’s strength in starting again. 

Brett Findlay had just started a new job when he learnt he had type 1 diabetes. He figured he could manage diabetes by keeping his blood glucose levels consistently low. Then, one fateful day, he had a severe hypo. In this raw episode of Life on the Level, Brett talks about hypo unawareness, rebuilding after trauma, and the enduring strength of family.  

A surprise diagnosis in his twenties 

“Aged 24, diabetes was not the diagnosis I expected,” Brett says. “I was managing a busy hotel venue on the Gold Coast, and I thought I was simply working too hard. I went to the doctor because I knew something wasn’t right. When the doctor got my test results, he called me straight back in.”  

Over the following years, Brett chose to manage his diabetes himself, rarely consulting health professionals. He thought that by running his levels constantly low, he could stay on track.  

Developing hypo unawareness 

Brett and his family relocated to Coffs Harbour, where he joined his brother in the banking industry. While he felt like he was on top of everything, Brett had developed hypoglycaemia unawareness, a dangerous condition when you become unaware of the early warning signs of a hypo. 

In 2023, Brett was shopping with his children when he had a seizure, losing consciousness and hitting the floor so hard that he fractured his skull. While Brett has no memory of the event, his six-year-old daughter grabbed her younger brother, covering his eyes. When the paramedics arrived, she told them her dad was a type 1 diabetic.   

Traumatic brain injury: a long road back 

“I woke up in the hospital yelling at everyone,” Brett recalls. “I didn’t understand what had happened.”  

Brett spent months in the hospital and rehabilitation in Sydney. Back at home, he receives support from the local brain injury rehabilitation service. While Brett tried to return to work six months after his injury, it didn’t go well. He is currently on a career break and planning a gradual return to work.  

Finding new ways to manage life with T1D and TBI 

Brett knows his story could have turned out differently had it not been for the Australian health system, income protection and his family. He’s keen to never put his loved ones through the trauma of another severe hypo. Brett now uses a continuous glucose monitor and insulin pump, aiming to keep his blood glucose levels within a healthy range.  

“I want to be sure I’m here for my wife and kids,” Brett says. “It’s taken time to build up their trust again and show them that I can manage my diabetes.”  

Tune in: Brett’s full story 

In this episode of the Life on the Level podcast, Brett shares the pivotal experiences that forced him to re-evaluate his life and health. He also highlights the positives that have come from his journey, such as having more time for socialising and volunteering as a speaker to support other brain injury survivors. His story is a stark reminder of the importance of prioritising what matters in life and the resilience of the human spirit.   

I am 11 years old and live on the Gold Coast. I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes after a normal weekend. On the Sunday I had a really good thickshake with ice cream and all the toppings, but then sort of passed out on the couch, like I was super tired.

That night Mum and Dad noticed I’d lost some weight and on reflection thought about how much water I’d been drinking lately. The next day we saw a GP who tried two finger testers but got no number, so we were sent to the Emergency Department at Tweed Hospital and I was diagnosed there. My blood glucose was 44 and my ketones were high. I was in DKA. It was really difficult to get a line into my veins because I was really weak and so skinny. 

Since diagnosis, after a great week in hospital with heaps of training, I haven’t really looked back! I play Rugby League for Tugun Seahawks, I play kit drums in three bands at school and I have a very active social life!  

I have been using a pump for nearly three years. Using a pump means I don’t have to give myself a needle every time I want to eat. It also means I can be more independent from my parents. Now I know a bit more about how to use my pump I can spend time at friends’ houses and go on school camps, all without having to worry about the needles, safety of needles, and the injections.

At the moment I can have a pump because of Mum and Dad’s health insurance (which is in excess of $600 per month). Sometimes I worry about what kind of job I will get because if I don’t get a good job I won’t be able to afford the insurance I need for a pump.

If the government make accessing a pump more affordable I can grow up confident that I will have the option to choose the best care for myself, the care I want, whether it be needles or pump therapy. I also know lots of DiaBuddies who can’t afford insurance and don’t have a pump. It would be nice if they got access to one too.

Two weeks before my 30^th birthday I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.

I had been losing weight, felt very tired and could not seem to quench my thirst. I thought perhaps I had developed type 2 diabetes as it was during the COVID-19 lockdowns and I had been eating a lot of high carb food. But my blood test showed type 1 diabetes.

It has been a big learning curve. I have had to learn how to count carbs, know what is in the food I eat, and adjust my lifestyle to include giving upwards of four needles a day. 

Since July 2022 when the government began to subsidise the sensors, I have used a CGM to track my glucose. But I have never used a pump due to the price.

I know there is technology available that would be greatly beneficial to my daily life, but the cost of type 1 diabetes is high enough already without having to try and find money for devices. 

Not having affordable access to technology has placed a huge burden on my mental health as I am always thinking about how to manage my diabetes. This includes having to inject myself with insulin multiple times a day, even when out in public, and going to the restrooms to inject so I don’t offend anyone. 

If the government made access more affordable, I would feel so much more supported. It would help prevent long term effects of hyperglycaemia, which in turn would mean less trips to the hospital or my GP. It would also reduce the mental load and really help me avoid burnout and the need for psychological appointments.

I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in August 2023. It came as quite a surprise as I had no idea that adults could get diabetes.

It was very challenging at first because they couldn’t confirm immediately if I was type 1 or type 2, and that period of uncertainly felt like I was in limbo. Once they confirmed type 1, it was like being transported into a completely different world where everything had changed. I just had to accept it and move forward.

I was initially doing fingerpricks after I went home from the hospital but as I am very interested in technology I did a lot of research after my diagnosis and decided to try the Dexcom G6 continuous glucose monitoring (CGM) device. I received a trial directly from the Dexcom website and, for a couple of weeks, I wore both Dexcom and another CGM. Not having to scan with the Dexcom G6 made it an easy choice for me.

Being able to monitor my glucose levels is very helpful for managing my condition and the tech enthusiast in me loves having access to all the data a CGM provides. It’s amazing to be able to see what my body is doing in real-time, something that most people never ever think about. It allows me to learn so much more about my body than I ever would have otherwise. For example, seeing how simple activities like hanging the washing can affect my glucose is fascinating.

With CGM, I’ve been able to integrate all the data into a live display at home. We have three devices around the house showing my glucose levels. This setup allows my partner and I to monitor my levels without constantly looking at my phone which helps me avoid unnecessary distractions.

The data technology provides is very empowering. I’m fortunate to have been diagnosed with diabetes when access to modern technology was available. I’m very grateful to have the subsidies we have in Australia, but pump technology is expensive and still out of reach for many people.

As someone who is passionate about technology – I host a podcast interviewing people about science, technology, engineering and maths, and all the amazing and inspiring things that they do – I find it frustrating seeing new innovations being available overseas while they have yet to be approved in Australia.

It has been a very long journey.

I was initially diagnosed with gestational diabetes, but I mostly ignored it as my (infrequently tested) blood parameters did not show anything alarming.

I later moved to New Zealand but was carrying a lot of weight and regularly indulging in secret eating. It was at this point I needed to go on to tablets and they helped for a while. It wasn’t until 2009 when retinopathy started to rear its ugly head and the HbA1c climbed to an alarming 9 that I paid heed to what my symptoms were telling me.

I was under considerable personal and professional pressure at the time but more cognisant of where things were going wrong. I took the decision to go on to insulin injections and quite soon thereafter went on to receive intraocular injections in my eyes as well.

On my return to Australia I decided to travel my own path rather than follow all the well-meaning, but often stigmatising, advice thrown at me.

I clearly remember the day when I was watching television and my husband, a medical specialist, asked me why I was breathing so heavily. He wondered aloud as to whether it could be attributed to my excess weight.

I broke apart and yelled at him: “What would you know? All your medical know-how and patients with comorbidities should give you the kind of insight you need to be a husband to me and understand what goes on with me.”

He quietly came and sat in front of me, took my hands in his and simply said: “How can I help?”

Strange but these words changed my life… I told him I wanted to make my own decisions, design my own diet, and have my own exercise regime. His role would be to provide a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen with, and to give advice, when asked.

My journey took a dramatic turn that day. Over the next few months I lost 15 kgs through walking and eating half portions (I would literally serve myself and then remove half of what I took). I had stomach pains but I kept myself too busy to care. Every kilo lost equated to a unit less of insulin. My HBA1c came down dramatically to 6.2. I then had an operation to remove the excess skin around my abdomen and lost another 6-7 kgs. The following year I lost another 10 kgs. Wow, 35 kgs lighter! I went from walking 1.6 kilometers in 30 minutes to 5.8 kilometers in an hour.

I have managed to keep most of the weight off but inevitably about five kilos has made it back.

Through my journey I discovered that my body reacts differently to different foods and my glucose levels vary not just with food intake, but the lack of it too. A reliable CGM would be invaluable as an aid to motivate and keep those glucose levels steady but the lack of funding makes it prohibitive.

CGM is something that is potentially lifesaving for people who want to manage their blood glucose to as near normal without risking hypoglycaemic episodes. The costs are currently prohibitive and there is no help for people with type 2 diabetes or people who deal with hypoglycaemia to gain access to these.

I can no longer closely monitor my glucose as my fingers are sore and the will to constantly check wanes. I often wake up with lows and have to take glucose which inevitably leads to me feeling unwell for the whole day.

Being able to access CGM would be huge. It would mean I could more closely monitor my glucose levels and titrate the insulin dose without needing to bother my GP, and function better overall.

I was diagnosed with brittle diabetes* shortly after my 8th birthday in 1981. I was bullied terribly all through school because I was the only child in the region with diabetes. I had to miss many days because of the condition and had an average of 60-70% attendance rate on all my report cards. 

At 21, I lost my job due to diabetes and a few other minor health issues, and was placed on the disability pension.  

At 25 I was told I needed an insulin pump otherwise I’d be lucky to see my 30s let alone 40; back then I was convinced there’d be a cure by the time I was 40. I had no way of affording a pump but was told I might find a health insurer that would cover it. I had to explain to the insurers the difference between an insulin pump and a blood glucose monitor! Needless to say, I only found a couple that were willing to help but the premiums were almost half of my pension, so I gave up and didn’t give it another thought. 

In 2005, when I was 32, I got a phone call from my Endocrinologist Dr Thornley telling me that şÚÁĎÍř NSW were donating a limited number of Dana insulin pumps. He applied on my behalf and got one for me.

Fast forward to 2011 and I was sitting in Dr Thornley’s office with my partner Chris (we’d only been together a few months) discussing options for getting a new pump as the five-year warranty was running out that year. I still couldn’t afford to buy one outright and assumed health insurance was still going to be difficult and too expensive.  

Dr Thornley turned to my partner and said: 

“Do you know how often that pump has saved Kylie’s life?”  

Chris looked at me and said: “We’re getting you health insurance.”  

For the first time in a very long time someone had put me and my health first. 

Dr Thornley recommended HCF and even though it was still almost a third of my pension (because they insisted on their highest-level hospital cover) we signed up and I spent the next 12 months hoping my old Dana pump would make it. 

I have been on an insulin pump and CGM ever since.  

For 30 years medical professionals often dismissed my case as too difficult or implied that I was merely lazy. Finally, last year, an independent medical review confirmed that the decision to put me on the disability pension because of diabetes all those years ago was justified. A great burden was lifted from my shoulders. 

With a combination of finally finding a good medical team who didn’t put me in the too hard basket, plus a few other major health improvements, I am sitting here at 51 looking forward to a very bright future. I now volunteer for WIRES, I am learning to play piano, and I have just been accepted into university to study Visual Arts. These were the things I wanted to do most when growing up. 

With National Diabetes Week coming up I suddenly remembered something that was long overdue, thanking my Endocrinologist Dr Thornley, and my excellent medical team which includes my GP, Heart Specialist, Respiratory and Sleep Specialist, Psychiatrist, Psychologist and Physiotherapist. As well şÚÁĎÍř NSW for donating a pump initially, and my partner Chris who has saved my life multiple times. 

Kylie Taylor 

*A term used to describe type 1 diabetes that is characterised by wide swings in blood glucose levels 

I was 11-years-old when I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. I remember feeling extremely tired and dehydrated. My vision was blurry, my head was in constant pain, and I had lost an immense amount of weight which I was ignorantly praised for.

My diagnosis came as a shock to the whole family as, to our knowledge, there was no history of type 1 diabetes in our bloodline. Yet, as I lay in the hospital emergency room with Blood Glucose Levels (BGLs) sitting upward of 20mmol/L, it was hard to refute. It was also very hard to accept.

Beyond being a prepubescent young girl facing the standard societal struggles each young person faces, I was dealing with a chronic illness and that meant I was different.

I felt like I stood out and I hated it. I tried to hide having type 1 diabetes. I just wanted to fit in and destroyed myself trying to do so.

The younger me wanted to cater to this unrealistic beauty standard I’d been told would solve all my problems. A standard I now know I cannot reach without destroying myself.

A beauty standard no one can reach – failed pancreas or not.

After years of self-neglect and misplaced shame, I’ve decided to start loving and accepting my body.

I wish someone could have told me as an 11-year-old or even as a 21-year-old: “You are unique, but you are not alone.”

In all my vulnerability and grown self-confidence, these images are me at my rawest living life unapologetically.

I hope this series of photos helps someone else out there. I hope you hear my voice. I hope you know how amazing you are.

Isabella Magee (@isabellagmagee), lives with type 1 diabetes

By Jenna Cantamessa

Mum was in the doctor’s room with me when I was diagnosed with diabetes and the support I had, and continue to have, from her is what helped me get through those first critical months. She collected all my supplies that day (and still does now). She sat down with me to carb count meals and was there to wipe away my tears of frustration at the condition. She did a lot of the research, and a lot of the worrying, while keeping a brave face. In the following years, after talking to many other parents of children living with type 1 diabetes, I have learnt that a brave face is so incredibly hard to keep. I remember her saying the night of my diagnosis when I was locked in the bathroom crying: “darling, I wish I could take this off you and have it myself”.

I’ve spoken to many mothers over the years, who are the primary caregivers of their child/children living with type 1 diabetes, and I’m in absolute awe of them. The physical, psychological, emotional, social, and financial toll that can be experienced by families caring for a child living with type 1 diabetes is extremely high.

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wrote an article that struck a cord with me, and this quote summed up the difficult truth:

“Mothers work around the clock to keep their children ALIVE. With no medical degrees. With no daily help from a doctor. I decide how much life-saving medicine to give my child all day, every day. And by the way, too much of this said life-saving medicine could kill them. Try to wrap your head around that! But then people look at my child and see this vibrant, healthy-looking child and they think I’m exaggerating, or worse, using my child’s condition to get attention. And so, more often than not, I just keep quiet, but at what cost? Keep quiet when I feel desperate, exhausted and scared about this huge responsibility that I didn’t get enough training for and that I never get a break from.”

I’ve been keeping in touch with a mum whose beautiful little girl was diagnosed at 11 months old, with no previous family history of type 1 diabetes, and her stories have opened my eyes to the challenges that diabetes poses on babies. Things such as diabetes devices on her little body, diaper changes that cause malfunctions with her devices, and the challenge of getting extra supplies subsidised due to meeting the capped amounts of CGMs etc quicker. The mother told me, “I dream of those newborn nights when I thought being awake throughout the night would soon be over, but it’s constant. I don’t know how she feels because she can’t communicate her feelings to me. The condition has changed our lives irrevocably. Not a single aspect of life remains the same.”

Another beautiful mum had both of her daughters, who are three years’ difference in age, diagnosed with type 1 diabetes just five days apart. Again, no family history and she is suddenly having to navigate diabetes with two children. I could go on. There are so many stories that reflect how life-changing type 1 diabetes is on a family, especially a mother.

It’s through speaking to the mums who live as carers of a child with type 1 diabetes that I’m incredibly grateful for my diagnosis at 19 years old. My mum didn’t have to experience this pain and stress every moment of the day because I was able to start managing it myself from the word go. But it is her support and unconditional love that has got me through.

Then there are the mums who live with type 1 diabetes themselves and have to manage motherhood with type 1 diabetes. Does that mean their own diabetes health takes a backseat? It must feel like you are constantly juggling so many balls at once, and more often than not you would put your child’s needs before your own.

In recent months I have been talking to friends who live with type 1 diabetes who are preparing for pregnancy and I’ve been in shock with how rigid and prepared a woman must be with diabetes management before they even consider trying to fall pregnant, let alone throughout pregnancy.

To all the mums reading this – you are incredible, and the absolute definition of a superwoman. 

By Jenna Cantamessa

şÚÁĎÍř contacted me last year to ask if I’d be the Australian Young Leader in Diabetes (YLD) for the International Diabetes  Federation’s two-year YLD program.

I didn’t have to think twice about the opportunity! I’ve been part of the online diabetes community for more than five years now and it has brought me incredible opportunities to connect with people living with diabetes around Australia and internationally.

Early in December last year,  YLD representatives including me travelled from 50 countries to Lisbon, Portugal, for the World Diabetes Congress and the YLD Training Summit.  The YLD cohort were incredible, and I can’t quite find the words to express how special it was to be in the same room together, communicating our lived experience with type 1 diabetes. We all share a common goal to improve the lives of people with diabetes.

Being in that room, I was overwhelmed with gratitude for the success that Australia had in 2022 within the diabetes space. In July, the Federal Government rolled out the Continuous Glucose Monitoring (CGM) and Flash Glucose Monitoring subsidy. From December 1, the Omnipod Dash subsidy was also available.  All Australians living with type 1 diabetes are eligible for the subsidies.

Other representatives from many countries who were with me in the room haven’t been so fortunate. Devastatingly, many low to middle income countries don’t have access to diabetes technology, with some lacking access to the bare necessities that keep those of us living with type 1 diabetes alive, such as insulin and basic glucose monitoring supplies. Access to these items should absolutely be a human right, but currently it isn’t.

Living with type 1 diabetes is like having a second full-time job. It requires constant attention, 24/7, with no breaks. “You’re quietly living through this daily grind that few people know about – it can be quite isolating,” said another YLD delegate, Alexander Zverev.  Type 1 diabetes is a complex condition that demands constant human manual input on a daily basis, (blood glucose level testing several times a day, multiple daily injections/pump cannula changes etc).

In Australia at the beginning of February there are 136,810 people living with type 1 diabetes, according to the National Diabetes Services Scheme map, and almost 1.3 million Australians are living with type 2 diabetes. More than 300 Australians develop diabetes every day. That’s one person every five minutes, as quoted by şÚÁĎÍř.

I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at 19 years of age and decided five years in that I wanted to contribute to the ever-growing online diabetes community as I felt strongly about giving this invisible disease a visual and voice.

I felt I could do this through digital art and words. People living with diabetes are tired of the many misconceptions and negative stigma attached to diabetes and hope that with education and awareness these misconceptions will eventually be eliminated.

The YLD Program saw us in sessions from early morning until evening over four days.

We heard from the International Diabetes Federation (IDF) President, discussed global diabetes initiatives, and engaged with pharmaceutical companies such as Novo Nordisk and Dexcom.

We heard directly from the World Health Organization (WHO) about the global diabetes commitments and formed discussions on how they were going to be implemented and evaluated.

We heard from members of the T1D Index and IDF Diabetes Atlas and how to best use these vital tools for data to drive advocacy efforts. It was great to be a part of a group of young advocates from across the globe working together and building networks of support to advance our advocacy and efforts within our countries.

Over the next two years I’ll be working with and supported by şÚÁĎÍř to deliver a series of projects both online and within Townsville. I can’t thank this instrumental organization enough for the work they do in our country for people living with diabetes.