Every once in awhile I’ll picture my future without diabetes. I’ll envision me eating cake at my wedding without digging through my dress for a pump in some hidden pocket, or shooting up insulin under the table. I’ll imagine a honeymoon without a white pump set blemishing my tan thigh. I’ll picture me caring for my patients without needing to stop to care for my own medical needs. I’ll picture me remodeling my first home I own without taking hypoglycemia induced juice breaks.
And then logical, non-day-dreaming me kicks in and diabetes tarnishes the picture. It’s not that I ever thought diabetes wouldn’t be there. It’s just that diabetes has such a subtle effect on my daily life now that I don’t blatantly think about it enough that it enters my daydreams. Or maybe it’s just that my subconscious stifles these thoughts as a coping mechanism? While diabetes has a subtle effect on my life, it has an effect nonetheless. It’s always there. And I can live with it. Until I start thinking about it always being there. And then the thought becomes overwhelmingly unbearable. And while I may not purposefully think about diabetes, it someone always manages to creep into my automatic thoughts. It’s like stopping at a red light. Or tying a shoe. I don’t need to think to do it. My mind just has those things so hard programmed it happens.
And I’ve only had diabetes for four years. And I’m exhausted.
Sometimes I think I want a break from my pump. I look at my tired abdomen full of bumps and spots. I feel my pump clip pinch my stomach when I go to sit down. I rip a thigh sight out when using the bathroom. And I think I want a break from my pump.
Then I wonder when to take such a break. I definitely don’t want to be without my pump if I have an exam. I don’t want to be without it at work. Or while skiing. Or at the gym. Or on a vacation. Or while out for drinks with my friends.
No, it’s not my pump I want a break from. It’s diabetes I want a break from.
And it’s most heart breaking when I think about life, and realize insulin is always going to be there in some form, none of them especially desirable.
Not that I’m not thankful for insulin. Of course I am. I’m thankful for it like a dog for a leash. It let’s him get outside and see the world, but he’d sure prefer to not be tethered.
What’s worse about this is that being pissed off by a need for exogenous insulin is just a tiny tip of a gigantic iceberg. It doesn’t touch how I feel about impending complications, or society’s attitude that diabetics brought it on themselves, or constant hypoglycemia, or the weight of my purse, or blood sugar testing, or something changing the second you think you may just have finally gotten it right, or waking up low or high, or how I feel low or high, or constant doctors’ appointments, or logging (God I hate logging), or the amount of money I spend on diabetes, or….
No, that stuff is all for another post.
Are these daydreams a form of hope? Maybe. But I’m not especially hopeful for a cure in my lifetime. I’m too realistic for that. I’m too informed on the barriers preventing Cure.
No, I don’t think it’s hope. It’s just a variation on denial.
*An insomnia inspired blog post