Life has changed, and it really isn't the same in any respects.
It is settling into a more normal rhythm for me, though.
This morning I woke up at around 8.
*Whhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*
Hi-pitched buzzing filled my ears.
I almost miss the hospital - no mosquitoes. (And I had a big screen TV!)
Sleep impossible, I rolled over, feeling happy and luxurious in the same little day bed I've had since the 4th grade. My comforter was comfy, my pillows were fluffy, and sleep has just felt so GOOD lately - it was nice, even with the insect alarm-clock.
It is at this point that I remember I am diabetic and it is time to test my blood sugar. That always nags at me a little in the morning now - I am a little hesitant to sleep in too late, worried my blood sugar might be off and I'm slowly killing myself with my laziness.
I open my eyes - perfect vision without glasses, again - the doctor said my eyes would be strange for a while and he is definitely right about that.
Well, that was nice. You have no idea how amazing that is to me. I usually cannot even see my hand in front of my face without it being blurry but lately my eyesight is close to - okay, not quite - perfect. Isn't that so... WEIRD?! Unfortunately, I seem to be having a hard time focusing on close-up things - so it's like I've gone from nearsighted to farsighted literally overnight, after suffering from myopia (nearsighted-ness) for eight years. I hope my eyes get back to normal soon (Or better yet, I don't need glasses/contacts anymore!) I'd be perfectly happy with that - tit for tat, you might say, as if gaining back perfect vision might compensate a little for having diabetes now. I wonder if diabetes has always affected my eyesight for the worse or if this is just my body's way of evening out again. Probably the latter. Anyways, for the record, I would rather be nearsighted than farsighted. All this straining is giving me a headache. But I digress.
I get up and pick up the familiar black case with my blood-glucose testing supplies. My room is like a walk-in pharmacy now. Ketostrips, alcohol wipes, lancets, extra blood glucose testers, diabetes textbooks, calorie and nutrition fact books, syringes, needles, glucose tablets, insulin pens, emergency glucagon kit - you name it, I probably have it. I clean my finger with alcohol and make sure my lancet is ready to go - I pick a relatively un-pricked spot on my finger, press the lancet down, hesitate for a second. This is going to hurt. But the longer I wait, the harder it is, so I brace and press - there now, that wasn't so bad. Hardly hurt at all. I squeeze my finger until the blood pinprick pools and then slip a testing strip into the meter. Test. My blood glucose is 107 this morning, nearly perfect. (Normal blood sugar is 80 - 110 for a person without diabetes). That is probably the best it has been in weeks. I felt great, and now I had the blood sugar to prove it. "Mom!" I yelled excitedly. "My blood sugar was only 107 this morning!" It is amazing what manages to please me now.
Ah, the little things.
I take a shower first. This may seem random but this is actually a well-planned strategy. If I take my insulin first, I have to eat, but then I can't take a hot shower for at least 90 minutes because the insulin might not absorb properly. So I take my shower first, get ready, then make my breakfast. I get out the ingredients, counting carbs on the nutrition labels. I plan to start making a list of my favorite Diabetes-friendly foods so I can better control my blood sugar in the future. For now I am still experimenting. This morning I decide on an egg sandwich. I need to be careful and try and eat lean meats when possible, as diabetics are susceptible to heart disease. So I try to get the yolk out and only eat the white; but when I fork out the yolk, there is just about nothing left to eat! That can't be right. I sigh, give up, and just crack another whole egg into the bowl. Screw lean meats, I will eat my egg this morning. I fry it up, toast some bread and plop the egg onto the bread. Ta-da; a yummy sandwich! I prepare to take a bite.
"Oh wait," I remember.
I forgot to take my insulin shot.
I sigh and grab my dose table, alcohol wipe, needle, and insulin pen. Picking a suitable place and swabbing at it with the alcohol, I press the needle to my skin, wince, and pierce it. I press down the button to inject all of my insulin, careful to hold the needle under the skin for at least 10 seconds to make sure I got it all. Yesterday morning I accidentally missed a few drops of insulin and my blood sugar had to high levels to show for it. I am now free to eat my breakfast.
I spend the rest of the morning enjoying myself and playing catch-up on the week of school I've missed. Finals are this month but as stressed as I SHOULD be, the rest of life has taken to the backseat for now as diabetes seems to come first these days. It's funny, I am so much more mellow about things than I used to be. I find I am far less easily irritated, stressed, or upset. I just sort of roll with things now. They don't seem to be as big a deal as they once did.
In a way, it's a blessing - it's like I've matured 10 years in the past one week. I find myself appreciating blunt honesty nowadays rather than beating around the bush like my old, bottle-it-up self used to do. I find I am far more willing to be vulnerable and open up with people about my emotions and my life, whereas before I treated my private life as one big, exclusive secret under lock-and-key. I am thankful for every little thing, from my heart beating another day to my wonderful relationship with my boyfriend, which has felt so fluid and easy and happy these past few days it's really been impossible for me not to be in a good mood. Even my relationships with the rest of the people I live my life close to seem to have improved. I'm easily happy over the little things and brimming with topics to have a conversation with. It's funny and strange how diabetes has warped my perspective and changed who I am - but not in a bad way. I feel as if, even though it is a terrible illness, part of me was always waiting to find out I was diabetic so that I could grow up and learn from it. I am learning and changing and shaping again, hopefully for the better.
I check my blood sugar for lunch. It is over 300. "Ugh." I sigh. And I was doing so well. A little disheartened, I adjust my insulin and give myself a bigger dose to cover my higher blood sugar levels. Lunch is a tuna fish sandwich and an apple. Tuna is a very heart-healthy meat, I've been told, so we will likely see a lot of each other in the years to come.
My mother and I leave for a clown job. I grab my usual face painting supplies and this time, my "diabetes kit", which is a pack I put together holding all of my insulin and necessary testing supplies, nutrition book, and emergency kits. We face paint for three hours on a hot field, where the kids are sweating faster than we can stick the face paint on. The sights and smells of the festival are tempting and I find it is hard for me to look at many of the teens my age on the field, living perfectly healthy, non-diabetic lives. I enviously yet subtlety observe people as, carefree, they enjoy hotdogs and treats of cotton candy and popcorn, things I cannot eat unless I carefully fit them into my eating schedule and check to make sure they do not have too many carbs. I sip my diet coke in quiet and go on painting faces. I am hot and sweaty and sure this will make my blood sugar go down.
When we are done I test my blood sugar and I am right, it is now down to only 85. I am due for something to eat so we stop at Panera. Insulin pen and nutrition book in hand, I peruse the menu to find a meal not too high on carbs and then sigh as I go over to the drinks and get myself some UN-sweet iced tea. I pour in artificial sugar, try it, and make a face. "Gross," I say, dumping the concoction out, and settling for an equally less-satisfying diet pepsi instead.
One of my biggest regrets is not pigging out more before I got diabetes.
Our order comes up, and I excuse myself to the bathroom. I walk into the handicap stall, lock the door behind me, and hitch up my clown costume. Prepping my insulin pen, I pull it out of my pocket and give myself my quick and necessary injection before going back out to the main room. I am getting the hang of insulin shots but I still mourn the ease and simplicity of a normal life.
Truth is, I am terribly jealous of all of you reading this - most of you, hopefully, perfectly healthy individuals. It is hard to watch people be normal and then exhaust myself over making my body pretend to be. And still that is not always good enough. I am prone to kidney failure, heart disease, blindness, feet problems, and many complications if I do not keep my blood sugar in check. I need to start getting my highs and lows in check and stop having my blood sugar bounce all over the place. I do want to live a long and healthy life and I am learning that one of the hardest part about diabetes is not just simply getting used to needles and a strict diet, but doing what is necessary to keep my blood sugar in check as much as I can, at all times. It is very exhausting to manage that through a balance of good eating, correct amounts of insulin, exercise, and yet not overexerting myself. I feel like I am on a scale and I just can't get it balanced - it keeps rocking back and forth, back and forth, and I can't get it to hold steady in between.
So now I have concluded my day and I am craving an entire box of Krispy Kreme Donuts.
No, not just one donut.
The.Entire.Freaking.Box.
Screw calories, screw however pig-like and utterly disgusting it might be, give me a day without diabetes and I would freaking eat the ENTIRE box of donuts simply because I CAN. No joke. I would STUFF MY FACE WITH JUNK FOOD!
So go. Go out there, and go live. Here's my advice: go get something extremely calorie-laden, extremely unhealthy, and go eat it. Go ENJOY it. Right now. Because you never know if you will ever be able to enjoy something like that again. Because, trust me, life-changing things can happen literally in a day's time.
Never take milkshakes for granted.
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