FUT1D

That's right.

Eff You, Type 1 Diabetes.

I'm literally over you.  You've been in my life for 30 years.  My longest relationship.  You have bossed me around. Controlled me.  Made me feel badly.  Made me cry.  Put me in pain.  Made me scared.  Made me sick. Made me feel hopeless.  You have made parts of my body give up.  You have made me stress out and become anxious.  You make me think of you first. You have made me depressed.  You have made me suicidal.   You have made me not give a shit about my life. You have hurt my friends, my family, my partners and random strangers.  You have been a selfish prick.  Literally.

I wish we could break up.

I am a middle aged woman, who is currently peri-menopausal, and has just received that dreaded post-bloodwork call from her Dr. My A1C raised to 7.7.  UGH!  Seriously????  I am doing NOTHING different.  NOTHING!!  I am eating that same.  In fact, I've been on the same damn diet for 30 years.  I have been wearing the same pump, counting carbs, watching treats, exercising more, taking my meds, checking my blood sugar....doing everything humanly possible for you, Diabetes.  Everything.

So, why do I have to suffer?

Why do I have to feel guilty and angry and sad, and etc etc and so on and so on because my A1C sucks?!?!

It's not fair.

Oh, and then my Thyroid is jacked up again?  Too low?  3 months ago it was just fine.  The meds were perfect.  Now they aren't?  Now I need a higher dose?  Because of my hormones again?  Because of my Diabetes again? WHAT?!

I'm so frustrated and sick of this effed up relationship.  I can't even take a break!  Go on a vacation, alone!  Get 5 minutes without the D bullshit invading my life.

The worst thing is that 'normal' people, 'non-Diabetic' people don't get it.  It's not only what I eat.  I know the lot of you are under that misconception and I cannot BEGIN to tell you how wrong you are.

It's what I do, how I feel, if I'm stressed, if I'm happy, if I'm emotional, if I'm over worked, if I'm tired, if I'm sick, if I'm busy, if I have sex, if I don't have sex, if the planets are aligned, if the stars are out, if it's raining on the West Coast and sunny on the East Coast.  It's every stupid thing that a person experiences or does in life.  Every single thing effects my Diabetes and my blood sugar.  I can't breathe without wondering if I b reathe too deeply will my freaking sugar drop!

Again.  Bullshit.

I'm over it.  I, and the other 1.2 million Americans who have T1D try so hard, every moment of every damn day, to get this relationship under some sort of control so that we can just live.  It doesn't matter that there isn't a cure.  It doesn't matter that our lifespan decreases by 13 years right out the gate.  It doesn't matter that we have more medical supplies in our homes/purses/cars/desks than we do anything else.  It doesn't matter that we spend billions on caring for this disease.  None of that matters because we have no choice.

Then let's talk about how much money I've raised for this disease?  For the hope of a cure. How much I have given over to JDRF.  Has anyone at JDRF helped me?  No.  Has anyone paid my hospital bills, ambulance bills, doctor bills, specialist bills, pharmacy bills, medical supplies bills, dental bills, food bills, insurance bills?  No.  Yet, I'm always asked to raise more money.

So, not only is my relationship partner a dick, so is it's family.

This is my life.

This is my relationship.

Until death do us part.

FUT1D.  I freaking hate you.

*Peace.

Party In My Pants....?

Written March 16, 2009

I love my Endocrinologist. For the first time, in 23 years, I can say that. Whew! Took me long enough to find Dr. Berelowitz. You always have to wait an hour past your appointment to see him but he’s totally worth it. One of the many things I love about him is he talks into his laptop. Instead of typing, he talks. I love when he says ‘Period. New Line.’ It makes Amanda & I giggle.

I went to see Doc B on Friday to review my pump progress and blood work. Plus, I had several questions for him, as usual. He came in with his South African accent, hair all flustered, laptop in hand, ready for business. He always shakes my hand. He apologized for running behind and got straight to work. My A1C is a 6.8. Woooo!! My A1C hasn’t changed in 9 months. That’s fantastic for a Type 1! For those who don’t know, an A1C is measured by a blood test which shows your average blood glucose level over the past 3 months. The goal for Diabetics is to be under 7%. A normal person should have an A1C below 6%.

Doc B then gave a little lesson. He grabbed his marker and went to the whiteboard. I previously drew a shamrock on his whiteboard because I was bored. He laughed, gave it a checkmark and said he was moving me to the head of the class. Then he began to teach. He said things that I had already learned on my own but hearing him say it was worse than I imagined it would be.

He began: ‘Let’s break a body into ‘self’ and ‘non-self’. Non-self’ referring to things such as the flu virus. ‘Self’ referring to things such as your pancreas. Antibodies sense ‘non-self’ and send out troops to attack. Thereby fighting off the flu and such.’ Doc B was drawing, writing and speaking like an English professor. ‘When you were in your mother’s womb, your antibodies started to attack your ‘self’, namely your pancreas. This caused Diabetes and is why it is considered an anti-immune disease. You’ve had Diabetes for 20+ years and it’s been having a party in your body. Now, it’s starting to invite all the cousins to the party. You have Hashimoto’s Disease. Your antibodies have begun to attack your thyroid. This we can control using Synthroid and have already begun this process. Your antibodies have also begun to attack your B12. It’s at a low normal level so I want you to go to Trader Joes and take some sublingual B12. Later, we will move on to shots. The good news is that you don’t have Celiac.’ That cousin is not invited, I say aloud. I mentally say ‘Hashimoto’s! Huy!’

What is so funny is that I had written on my list to ask him about B12 shots. It’s like I self-diagnosed my problem before I was even told. I’m awesome.

I loved that he took the time to explain everything to me and let me know what is going on. I really do. It was my fault that I became dramatic after I left the office. I am so busy being strong 24 hours a day, 7 days a week that I forget the end result. I forget..or push back into the depths of my soul…the magnitude of my lot in life. The full spectrum of what my body fails at. For the most part, I am still under the misconception that I am invincible. It’s a rare and gut wrenching moment when reality sets in and I realize that I am sick. I have a disease. An incurable disease that will undoubtedly be the death of me. I started wondering if my body is finally breaking down. If what is going on inside me is finally starting to win. I had visions of pills, needles, procedures…I had visions of doom, destruction and demise. It sucked. I allowed them to fester until I was ½ way home.

It was then that I emerged from my doomsayer musings and looked at my daughter. I remembered why, no matter how much is wrong in my life, no matter who is invited to the party inside my body, no matter how bad it gets….the good is so much better. My life is an amazing thing to be lived, by anyone, and I’m so glad it’s mine.

So, I took a deep breath, pushed back the tears and negative thoughts, gave Diabetes the finger and drove home to have a real party with my friends.

*Peace.