Today I went to Cambridge to get an EKG done in preparation for Kilimanjaro. Something caught my eye as I walked into the building, a young girl probably a little younger than me walked out with tears in her eyes. I don't know why she was crying, but I couldn't help but watch her get into the passenger seat of her mom's car and ball her eyes out as soon as the door shut. It reminded me of my first diagnosis.
When I was diagnosed I didn't instantly cry. I was upset, but more so because I had to miss out on the weekend. I recall crying once again, once I was left in the hospital by myself in a room I shared with a complete stranger. Since it was night time I had no idea who was behind the curtain. I also had never slept in a hospital before, so the fear was more so based on the unknown than diabetes itself. I cried once again when I was home from the hospital. That is when it began to sink in and I was looking at my finger tips, upset about what they would look like once I made this diabetes thing a routine.
After that, tears were rare about diabetes. I cried at a buffet on a cruise because I was overwhelmed, and other than that nothing too prominent comes to mind in the days or months post my diagnosis. Minor upsets and disapointments come with living with diabetes. It's hard not to get upset, really. Just like the girl leaving the Cardiac centre, any change can be difficult. Once again, I am assuming that the tears were from an appointment.
I believe the important thing is acceptance. As much as diabetes gets on my nerves and breaks me down at times, I have to find that inner acceptance that keeps me in check. Diabetes is a huge obstacle, but not a brick wall, there are many ways to get through the obstacles even when you feel defeated.