Sunday, July 19, 2009
Give Credit to the Diabetic
"I give you credit!" I hear it every day. People that know me, people that meet me, heard about me or read my blogs all say the same thing. Everyone seems to think that what I do on a daily basis is something that should be credited and something that should be appreciated but wouldn't you do the same? Give yourself a needle, avoid eating chocolate bar after chocolate bar. It's something that I must do in order to survive. Sure it takes strength, bravery and heart to keep up with my body and its health but in the end I give the credit back to each and everyone of you for sticking by my side.
I never thought I'd be a person that someone would have to worry about. I thought that I was the most independent, mature person that could handle the world and whatever it threw at me. Of course this statement is true, I've managed to take diabetes and turn it into something positive but I ultimately didn't think I'd be the person people were worried about.
Before being diagnosed I had never been to the hospital for myself. I had never broken a bone, fell out of a tree, or twisted my ankle. The nurse said to me, "you must be an angel!" The fact is that I never really was in sports, or was an adventurous kid, so the risk factor was minimum. I never ran away or worried my mom about where I was or when I was coming home. I would say that I was a pretty good kid. It seems like I got through my childhood without many bruises or scars but here I am today with a few.
I am worried about more than ever not only by my parents but by everyone around me. My friends are scared I'll faint and they won't know what to do and my boyfriend fears my lows. Every time I mention I have a headache, sore eyes or a kink in my neck it all refers back to checking my sugar. I am constantly reminded to bring sugar pills, meter, strips and needles every where I go.
People hope that their meal is good enough for me, that they didn't make it wrong, that they saved the box and that there is enough to eat. Friend's practice how to take care of me, in case of an emergency, in case I can't speak. My mother shops carefully, being sure to pick foods that will work while my father will call and check on me to see how I am feeling.
It is as if I am a child once again in my life, when I am worried about every second of the day. I know and want everyone to know that I will be okay, that I tackle this disease each second and there isn't a second I wont. But I want to this to be known that the credit not only is for the diabetic but it also is for you.