Saturday, June 24, 2017


Where do you carry the weight?

When a part of you stops working, the need for it to work doesn't go away. I still need insulin, although I don't carry it in my pancreas any more. I need it now more than ever, in a way, considering the fact that I'd never considered its existence until it began magically disappearing, spirited away by my angry angry immune system.

So now I carry my pancreas in my purse. I carry it in pockets stuffed with glucose tabs. I carry it on my body, physically, strapped to me and punctured inside of me. I carry it in my mind, a constant thread woven through my inner monologue. I carry it in my eyes, the nights I get no sleep from all the beeping and buzzing. I carry it in my carry-on bags and in my checked luggage, just for good measure.

I carry it like a shield, revealing it to someone new but also defensively daring them to ask if I need help. I carry it like a balloon, something I let go of when I can but am always fearful I won't be able to get back under control.

The question is funny,"where do you carry the weight?" It can mean two things, like, physically, where are you carrying that weight on you? And also physically, like where are you when you are carrying that weight?

I guess my answer to both would be, everywhere. 

No comments:

Post a Comment