I wake up sweat-drenched, and everything seems normal for just a second. Christmas carols play softly on the radio. The clock reads 2:32 AM.
2:32 AM? Why am I awake? And why am I sweating so badly?
It's been a long time since I've been woken up in the middle of the night by a low. I've almost forgotten what it feels like. And then it hits me; I'm low, and I startle into consciousness. I shake so badly as I weakly grasp for the meter thankfully lying within arm's reach on the nightstand. I struggle to sit up as I test. My blood sugar is 47. I can hardly find the strength to get up and walk two steps to the minifridge. My movements are about as fluid as maple syrup. By some miracle I had remembered just that evening to buy more snacks in case of lows; otherwise I would have been out, and I don't know what I would have done. I fall back onto the bed with my snack in hand, leaning against the wall to try and support myself as I munch on the snack. I feel awful. My heart pounds. I shake it off, but after the snack I am going to take a while to recuperate still. There is nothing left to do but turn off the light and roll back over to sleep; it takes the least amount of energy.
Sometimes, although rarely, I can ignore Diabetes.
In the peacefulness of slumber, in my dreams, I have no disease.
When I'm laughing, with friends, for brief seconds at a time I can forget and put it in the back of my mind.
Driving down rural country roads, or face painting children, or listening to music. Life, in that second, consists of only those things.
But Diabetes is like the sun and the moon; whether hidden by clouds, by light or darkness, in a windowless room, sometimes unseen; it is, and always will be, still there. It has become such an ever-present part of everyday life that your world is unfathomable without it. I don't want Diabetes to be like that, but it is. It has to be, because I live with and treat this disease every single day of my life, and nearly every choice that I make is overshadowed by the ever-present thought of "how will this effect my Diabetes?"
I'm glad there is a month to raise Diabetes awareness, even if so few people are aware of what the life of a Type 1 means. But sometimes I don't want a month. I don't want to raise awareness. Because that means that I have a disease to raise awareness for. I wish Type 1 Diabetes was more easily treatable, I wish that there was a cure. I don't want to have a disease where I have to give myself shots everyday and feel eternally guilty for eating half a pint of ice cream. I don't want to deal with the nasty smell of insulin, and see test strips of mine lying all over campus. I don't want a disease that can't be cured, a disease that too few people know or care about to donate money to. There are more "important" illnesses, more pressing issues, they say. What about the people whose lives are affected by this disease? Are they, their quality of life, not important enough? Do they not deserve better treatments, more pressing searches for a cure, than someone with a different disease, or a different plight? Are we not as worth it?
Let me tell you something you've probably already figured out if you've kept up with this blog. Once you get Diabetes, there is no going back. Life will never be the same. You age beyond your years because you have to. Every day is a mental and physical fight for your life, to stay happy, stay sane, stay healthy. I don't think about it a lot because I can't afford to think like that, but the quality of life for a Type 1 Diabetic is pretty crappy. We've been treating with insulin since the '20's. Where are all the new innovations, the better treatments to make our lives easier? Sure, we have better needles, insulin pumps, less scary looking lancets, but at the end of the day the treatment is still the same: it lies at the end of a needle in our side. I'm inevitably going to get sick of it. I'm already sick of thinking like this, of thinking that I will never get cured. Of thinking that this will be my life forever. Do you know I've never had a Twinkie? Rarely had fast food? My mother never let us eat processed foods as a child? I had a healthier diet than most people I know ever would? It did nothing to stop me from getting this disease. I don't understand how I can watch people eat all of the fried and fatty, sugary foods in the world and yet I'm the one who got this stupid, misunderstood disease - and then be judged because people think it was my supposed "unhealthy diet" that made me this way.
In short... I'm tired of you, Diabetes.
Please just go away.
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