Everyday is a fight

A few months ago my mum told me about this girl who started rebeling with her diabetes treatment. Mum couldn't understand why someone would do that, put thier life and health at risk.

"She's tired." I told Mum.
"Tired?"
"There are days where you want it all to stop."

I'll be honest. I've rebelled quite a bit since diagnosis. It's why I've been hospitalized twice. I hate needles, but I play with them 7 times a day.

I hate pricking my finger in the morning, before lunch and dinner, and again before I sleep. I hate hearing the snap of the lancet as it pricks a tiny hole in my epidermis where I then have to squeeze out an efficient amount of blood to get a reading. Sometimes, no blood comes out and I have to find another spot. Sometimes, I don't get enough blood so I get an error reading. I hate error readings with a mad passion. Why? I have to start over. Then you have you scoop the blood up with the test strip and if you do this wrong or take too long, *boom*, another error. I do this four times a day, everyday, for the rest of my life.

Then there's the insulin shots. I hate shots. I've hated shots since I was a baby. Yet, here I am shooting up 3 times a day. Sometimes I feel like God has a warped sense of humour or loves irony a wee bit too much. I hate the insulin shots. I can't eat until I take it. I hate trying to make sure there aren't any air bubbles. I hate trying to find a new spot on my hip to inject. I hate how sometimes I hit a vein and I start bleeding. I hate when my skin is to tender and the injection site hurts. I hate how I have to plump my skin and then have a horrible divet as I try to inject myself. I hate looking for fat. I hate the tight squeeze in my skin that I feel when the insulin first comes in contact with my body. I hate that when I'm too cold my body shivers making it impossible to inject pain free. I hate when people talk to me while I'm injecting. I hate it when people are to close to me when I inject. I hate it when my huband or someone watches me while I inject. I hate it when I'm having trouble finding a spot and the next thing I know I'm sweating from the sheer antcipation of pain. I hate how my friends and family members sometimes forget I have diabetes and ask why I'm going to the bathroom before I eat. I do this three times a day, everyday, for the rest of my life.

Just those two things alone, makes me tired. There are days where I don't want to take insulin. There are days where I don't want to check my blood sugar. I just want to be normal again. And then I'm frustrated because those days of normalcy are far from over.

I hate having to watch what I eat. I want a donut, but I can't have a donut. I want cookies, cake, and ice cream. All of which I can't really have unless I sacrifice something else. I have to eyeball how much rice or pasta I'm eating. Is there enough protein in this meal? Am I getting the right amount of carbs? What will this food do to my blood sugar? Can I eat this piece of fruit or will I pay for it later? There are days where all I want is a Dr. Pepper. But I can't. Is there aspertame in this? It's not about eating anymore, it's about how this food will effect my numbers. I can't drink. Alcohol, what's that? I have two weddings this year, and I'll probably only be allowed to have a sip of champagne and two bites of wedding cake. When I eat somewhere, the menu becomes more of a pain than a oh that sounds lovely. I get scared at functions when I have no clue what the menu will look like in fear that I won't be able to eat. Food and yumminess is out the door. There are days where all I want to do is eat a bear claw and sip on Dr. Pepper like I used to when I was little. To amke matters worse, Mum forgets about the diabetes and offers ice cream or pie when I'm at her house. I just look at her and say, "Diabetes." "Oh, right." She replies.


Then there's the numbers. Everything revolves around these stupid numbers. Too high, more insulin and cut back on carbs. Too low and we're looking at find Michelle the most sugary thing. I recently had a fight with Mum about letting my blood sugar go down to 55 because I didn't know what I could eat to raise it in her house. Atleast, at my place we have a stock pile of cookies, juice, and ice cream to make sure I never collapse again. When I told her I had no clue what to eat, she says, "Eat turkey!" To which I reply, "I need carbs not protein!"

It makes the disease a little harder when the people around you aren't sure what you need and at the same time you never want to put them in any sort of diabetic emergency predicament. I am a grown ass woman yet, I'll be out somewhere feel off, check my blood sugar and it's low. Then I have to tell the people I'm with I need food pronto. It's so beguiling.

Sometimes I wonder if it is better to struggle with this disease all your life, or be like me where you go a quater of a century healthy as a horse and then all of a sudden diabetes comes out of no where changing your life forever. Either way, there are days where you want it to go away. There are days where you want to be normal and not have to worry, not have to inject or prick, not have to think about food choices. Sometimes I jealous of the people around me ordering soft drinks when all I can really drink is water. And then I wonder what I did to deserve this. Everyday is frustrating as I drag my feet to measure the dose, get my meter ready, and figure out what I'm eating. Everyday is a fight and normalcy is no where in sight.