Once, at a holiday dinner table, I dipped a sugar cookie into some buttercream, and so many people gasped and yelled NO that the cookie never made it to my mouth.
I cried instead.
It’s diabetes awareness month and I don’t usually pay much attention to these things so I’ll keep it short. But right now, it seems silly not to write something.
Type 1 is not Type 2. My type 1 began when an autoimmune response killed what makes my insulin. Diabetics need to find the Goldilocks of blood sugar, not too high, not too low or there are consequences. There are too many decisions to count that make up what it takes to get that tolerable sugar level, and my finish line never stays put. My illness affects my mood and ability to focus, sometimes. But what irks me is the misunderstanding surrounding this illness and how we can all be supportive of those managing.
I’ve been at work, in a discussion with other professionals on work related topics, and a coworker derailed me by interrupting the conversation to say, “What’s your blood sugar?” It shocked me. It forced my brain to stop my work, and pivot to diabetes. It seems some see my insulin pump as permission to pry. Having this is not a choice and to be reminded when it is not the time is frustrating. I understand the comments and questions are only showing care or concern, but there is a time and place. So, I’m asking, please do not comment on the sugar I put in my mouth. And since I’m reading all my complaint department cards today, please do not buy me “sugar free” candy. I don’t like it and I can have regular candy.
Sincerely and always doing math I didn’t sign up for,
Amanda
PS: Congratulations to James Talarico, Type 1 extraordinaire, on his Big Texas win for the Senate seat. I hope he takes what he knows firsthand about paying for insulin and uses it to make insulin more affordable. Representation matters. May we, as a society, do better for those that need to live with insulin, as it should be an absolute right. Insulin is my literal lifeline and insurance companies are holding us hostage.
