On hope.

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”

Martin Luther King said that. Talk about someone who understood finite disappointment.

I can’t even quantify the amount of disappointment that I’ve had to deal with this week. Relationship (still, I know, I’m working on it), work, school, life in general… in fact, the only thing that hasn’t been going horribly wrong is my diabetes care. For once in the time we’ve been together, D seems to be behaving itself when I need it to the most.

I want to write about hope today because I had a moment last night while hanging out with friends. Some asked me what time it was, so I pulled out my pump to look, and he says, “I didn’t know you were diabetic.” It cuaght me off guard because I was pretty sure that almost all of my friends were aware about D. I like to keep an open channel with folks mostly because it means less explaining when things go wrong. And they do, sometimes. “Oh yeah,” I said, “I’ve had it for a couple of years.” (I felt like a superhero revealing my secret identity.) He smiled. “That’s really cool.”


You’re right, handsome male friend. It is cool. It is SO COOL.

It filled me with such hope to know that I really am more than this disease. It is sometimes so difficult to see myself through the diabetes mess, but to know that someone saw me, in that moment, as just plain old me is so… refreshing. While I’m not ready to date again quite yet, I feel like this little moment of hope infused me with the strength to accept that others are going to accept me. Diabetes is a tough pill to swallow — believe me, I know. I can imagine that finding out that the person you are romantically interested in has D is almost like what we went through at diagnosis. But I also hold out on the hope that there is someone out there who will accept my D as a part of me because, well, it is just that. I’ve said it before: love me, love my diabetes. (Like you have a choice, anyway.) We’re a package deal. No promise that it’s going to be easy, but we’ll make it.

I’m going to go watch (read: cry over) some more videos over at the You Can Do This Project.
If you’re living with D yourself, or love someone who does, you need to hear what these folks have to say.

Life is beautiful. 🙂


On breakups and eating habits.

My numbers have been really great lately. Like below 200 great. I should be happy about this, but I haven’t really felt like eating a whole lot lately, so my boluses are super-accurate (read: non-existent). On my best days, I usually stick to a very low-carb diet, only consuming carbs that come from natural sources like dairy and fruit. I’ve cut almost all bread and bread products out because I have entirely too much trouble bolusing for them, and the way they spike my blood sugars is simply unreal. Sometimes it feels like no amount of insulin infused at any rate will affect the spikes, so I just do without. It isn’t a hard diet to follow, really; I’m not a big carb eater as it is. I have been known to splurge (as we all have at some point, right?), so there’s always a little wiggle room. Sometimes I miss the way I used to eat pre-D, and then I have to take a moment to thank my pancreas for all of it hard work in the past.

The other thing that I think affects eating habits is who we hang out with. My boyfriend and I were big foodies, like $160 at a fancy restaurant was a good night out. Since we broke up about a week ago (he gave me some BS excuse along the lines of “I don’t love you anymore” which, to me, sounds a lot like, “our relationship is great but I like being single better”) I just haven’t been eating… anything. The motivation to make food or go out and get food just isn’t there. I wouldn’t say that I’m depressed, necessarily, just really really sad. I liked this guy. A lot. I thought on more than one occasion that he could be it for me, and that I would be okay never dating anyone else. Needless to say, I’ve been pretty sad as of late. It’s been a real challenge for me to want to check my BG and do any daily diabetes-related things. My ex was really involved in my D-care, so that’s adding another level to the situation as well. The ways in which diabetes affects my life continue to amaze me — this is my first breakup post-diagnosis that had nothing to do with D, so that’s refreshing, but now there’s the prospect of having to re-enter the dating world, which is something that genuinely terrifies me. My mother says that D shouldn’t even come up while dating, but it does, and it will. I mean, I wear a pump for crap’s sake. It’s there. It’s in the open. Anyone that I date is also going to have to know about D because it is a really crucial part of what makes me who I am — it’s just as important to me as my family or what I do for a living. 

I guess I still have a lot to learn.