Spring Cleaning

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I decided to organize my container with all of my diabetes supplies in it today, and I found all four of these  o_O (I actually use a FreeStyle Lite.)

Among other things, I also found a bottle of Ketostix that expired in 2006.

Maybe I should clean more often.

The Exhaustion of Hyper-Awareness

I am in a constant state of self-evaluation.

A steady stream of questions, of assessment, buzzes through my mind at all times:

Am I okay? When did I eat last, and what did I eat? How many carbs, how much insulin did I take? Too much, not enough? Do I have glucose tablets, just in case? When will I eat next? I’m thirsty- is it just thirst, or is my blood sugar high? Why can’t I think straight? I’m tired- or am I low? Am I seeing floaters or is the fluorescent light in this room just too bright? Am I lightheaded because I stood up too fast, or is my blood sugar plummeting? Did I eat enough beforehand to sustain running another mile? Should I eat a snack before bed, even though I’m running a little bit high, just in case? Will I be okay? Am I okay? Am I okay?! 

My inner monologue is exhausting. Being so hyper-aware of everything all the time, yet actually feeling like I’m in the dark as to what is really happening in my body, is exhausting. And frustrating. Sure, I test my blood sugar 6+ times a day, but what the hell is going on in the gaps between finger pricks- while I’m trying to, oh, I don’t know…. live my life? I have no idea- and especially lately, it’s been driving me crazy. I don’t feel good about it.

So today, I decided to do something that I’ve been putting off for many reasons: I made an endocrinologist appointment for next week. I want to try out a continuous glucose monitor. I’ve been ambivalent about it for so long because (to be completely honest, gulp) part of me just still hasn’t accepted wearing diabetes- being attached to something that so physically acknowledges it. I’ve been diabetic for almost 9 years, and it all still requires constant processing. There is a constant, ongoing battle of acceptance. I like feeling free; detached of sensors, pumps, and wires. But right now, although my body is free of monitoring devices, my mind isn’t. It’s on overload. And if glorious technology can help me to gain even just a little more insight into what is happening, I will try it.  I know it won’t solve all of my anxieties, but I hope that it will help. At this point, any slant peace of mind would be warmly welcomed.

do something

 

 

I’m Reviving My Blog from the Dead

I’m graduating college in a terrifyingly small number of days.

I really just don’t know how to even feel about it, but luckily I’m so busy that I don’t really have time to feel anything! In all seriousness, I’m very excited for many reasons, and one of them is that I will finally have time to do things that I enjoy again! Juggling two part-time jobs as a full-time student doesn’t leave much time for that. One thing that I’ve tried to do like 8 times (rather unsuccessfully) while in school is maintain a blog. But school’s out and here I am! I’m still working on putting it together, but I think it’s gonna be good.

All of my old  Coffee & Insulin posts (although there weren’t many) from Tumblr magically transferred over here with the press of one button (technology!) so some of my very old, sporadic posts from years ago are on here. So pretty much all of the posts before this are strictly about diabetes because that’s all I focused on with my former blog. But I don’t want to do just that anymore. I also don’t want to go to the other extreme that I did with my travel blog, which was never mentioning diabetes. In my real life, it’s not that black and white. In fact, it’s all grey area.

I mean, the thing with diabetes is… there is no separation. It it is in every step  I take, every move I make, every single day, every time I pray (just kidding, I’m going to stop there with the Puff Daddy reference) but seriously- it’s always there. So even when I’m talking about travel or cooking or gardening or graduating college, it is there by default. It is there because I am there.

So, my posts won’t all be “Here I am to write about diabetes.” But some of them will be.

Others will be more along the lines of, “Here I am to write about my life, and I am no longer going to skip mentioning the parts about diabetes because I think it will bore people” or  “Here I am to write just about France or brussels sprouts or how humid it is because my whole life doesn’t revolve around an autoimmune disease” or “LOOK AT MY ROOMMATE’S CAT, ARGONAUT. HE TAUGHT HIMSELF HOW TO PEE IN A TOILET.” (No really, look at him) :

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Basically, I’m looking for balance. In my writing, in my blog, and in my life.

A person tolerating pain is not a person free of pain

Doctors stopped warning me years ago

that a shot might pinch a little.

Assuming, I average 6 shots a day,

by now I must be immune to their sterile sting.

But when the needle breaks my skin,

I still fight the urge to flinch,

and when the needle leaves my body,

I still bleed.

 

 

Dear Type One Diabetes,

In 3 days, I will have officially known you for 8 years. Not yet half of my life, although it feels like you’ve infiltrated my whole life. Looking back, I can’t remember a time when you weren’t on my mind. I can’t believe I’ve lived without you almost twice as long as I’ve lived with you, although I won’t always be able to say that. You’re here to stay as long as I am.

 You’ve been with me through the craziest years of my life. You introduced yourself a mere 2 weeks before I began high school. A mere 4 days after my 14th birthday. Before I really knew you, you made me thirsty. You made me pale. You made me lose 15 pounds in 2 weeks. You made my head hurt. You made my mother worry, and take me to the doctor. You put me in the hospital for 4 days, and by the time I left, you had spread to every tiny part of me. My arms, my legs. My mind, my body. Where I go, you go. Always.

 You’ve been a great teacher. You’ve taught me responsibility. You’ve taught me body-consciousness. Nutrition. Carb counting. You’ve taught me human fragility and human strength. Awareness. Highs, lows, spikes, crashes. You’ve taught me acceptance in the fact that I’m playing a game with no concrete rules. You’ve also taught me guilt. Lots of guilt.

 Out of the past 2,920 days, not one has gone by without me worrying about you. Adjusting for you. Trying to stabilize you, tame you, make you do what I want. Some days I succeed, others I don’t. There is no real winning against you, there are only good moments and tough moments. Sometimes scary moments. But lots of small triumphs, and those are what keep me going.

 After 8 years with you, you seldom surprise me. I’m glad when I feel in control of you, but when I don’t, the rest of my world doesn’t disintegrate. A blood sugar of 342 won’t cause a mental breakdown. It will cause a dull disappointment, a pang of guilt, and a 3-unit insulin injection. It will add to a tall pile of high blood sugars that will eventually, if piled too high, result in dangerous consequences down the road.

 “Down the road” is an ambivalent term with you. “Down the road” makes the present moment seem safe. It eases the guilt of a high blood sugar, because as long as I don’t have another one, the “down the road” consequences will magically remain “down the road” forever, right? How far is “down the road” really? How is it measured? By years? By high blood sugars? By finger pricks? I have a feeling “down the road” just happens one day, as quickly and painfully as you did.

 The weight of you really weighs me down. The instability of you causes instability for me. We are one, you and I. Fighting you will only hurt me. Closing my mind to you will only turn my mind against me. You know, “down the road.” When I was diagnosed with you, the doctors told me I would experience something like the 5 stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. I didn’t experience you like that, though. I’ve experienced all of these moments with you at some point, but, as in everything with you, there is no straight line. You are all grey area.

 Sometimes I’m angry at you. Sometimes it hits me out of nowhere, like that day when I was 14, that I have you. Sometimes the realization of the gravity of you, the seriousness of you, knocks me to the ground. But most of the time it doesn’t. I can’t walk through life carrying you on my shoulders, or on my back. I certainly can’t walk through life pretending you don’t exist. So, to the best of my ability, I walk through life acknowledging you lightly, but not dwelling on you. Respecting you and your needs, which are my needs, too, and working with you. We share the only space I have to live in, and I won’t allow you to take it over.

 I don’t want to fight with you. It doesn’t make me feel good. I also don’t want to cave into you. I don’t want my life to cater to you. I don’t want to prick my fingers 10 times a day and stick a needle in my stomach for you. I don’t want to wince for you, and bleed for you. But, beyond all else, I sure as hell don’t plan on dying for you.

 So, I will bend for you, but I won’t break for you. I’ve made room for you because I had to, and I will make adjustments accordingly because I love myself more than I hate you. We’ve known each other for 8 years now, bucko. You’ve been better, and you’ve been worse, and that’s just how it goes, but lately I’ve been thinking a lot about you and our relationship and I’ve been challenging it. Maybe there’s a better way to treat you. There is no easy way, but there are other ways, and I will no longer accept you as what you are with no questions asked.

 So, in the near future, you might be a little off balance. You might be confused and disoriented (and I might be, too.) But if there are better ways to treat you, I plan on finding them. I don’t want “down the road” to come any sooner than it must, and every time that the tips of fingers go numb, or a floater passes my eye, or I struggle to think straight, I remind myself that although I have you, you do not have me, and I will do everything in my power to keep it that way.

Infinitely,

Sarah

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