Monday, April 22, 2013

Dearest Diabetes

*Warning: This post has some vulgar language though I tried to keep it to a minimum.*

I wrote a letter to diabetes the other day and decided to post it. Keep in mind this was on a good d-day. I was happy. This is my happiness.

Dearest diabetes,
You are such a little piece of shit. I love you and I hate you at the same time. You make my skin crawl. I wish I could give you away but I would never want someone else to have you. You play with my emotions. You make me vomit (literally) and sweat all in one day. I really hate you sometimes. But sometimes I love you. I love that I've gotten used to you. I love that I don't get sad every time I see a high number or a low number. You have taught me to appreciate the little things. Today when I woke up, I was 99. I was so happy. Thought I could be in some sort of commercial or advertisement for diabetes supplies. Oh, but I hate you. I hate you for breaking my sleep. EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. I know you don't make me get up but my paranoia makes me set alarms to make sure you aren't being a little bitch.  I greatly appreciate you teaching me to be more health conscious. I like to run now. But maybe sometimes I run too much. I run away my anger and fears and I keep going even when I'm too tired and I'm almost about to vomit and my legs give out. I never quit. See, you taught me that. You taught me to never quit. And I won't ever quit. Even if it becomes borderline disorderly. I can say no to that slice of pizza now. But not because I want to. It's because I'm afraid of what it'll do to my blood sugar. And I'm afraid of what my blood sugar will do to my body...and what my body will do to my life expectancy. But before you, I didn't really care about my body or my life expectancy. It's a funny thing, diabetes. You try to bring me down sometimes but I won't let you. Not for too long, anyway. Yesterday, my endo said he was proud of me. He told me not to be upset that my A1C had gone up because I had eliminated a lot of the lows he was worried about. He hugged me. He said diabetes is hard but I'm kicking its ass. DID YOU HEAR THAT, DIABETES?! He said I'm kicking your ass. So please, don't you ever think for a second that I'm not thinking of new ways to kick your ass. Operation no midnight highs is in full effect. Think you can stop me? Think again.
Much love,

1 comment: