Saturday, July 8, 2017

Are You OK?

Here's why I find that question so infuriating, even though people mean well when they ask it after a beep, or a finger prick, or a bolus, or anything really.

It's so frustrating because, it really highlights how much they don't see. Yes, I'm okay. You're watching something I do multiple, multiple times a day. Multiple times an hour. You're watching the inner workings of my life. And when you act surprised, you are projecting that it's a burden. You're making me feel like it's abnormal, like I might be sick, implying that something must be wrong.

When in fact it's the opposite. This is what I look like when I'm healthy. This is what my life looks like. This is who I am when everything is okay. 

Wednesday, July 5, 2017

At Ease

3 years ago today, I was laying in a hospital room, letting go and finally admitting something was wrong with me. The relief of my diagnosis was overpowering--that feeling of realizing that it had already happened I was sick--and more than that, there was a way for me to get better (at least somewhat better.)

That was a type of ease. 

Today, at 3 years, there's a different kind of ease. There's an ease of surviving without my CGM for days at a time, hiking, running, exercising, sleeping, trusting my body all along. There's the ease of knowing my body's patterns before sleep, when snacks are needed and when they're not. There's an ease of packing, little kits and ready-made bags that I can throw into weekenders. 

I've been enjoying Mary Olive lately and especially her poem, "The Journey," especially the part about "saving the only life you can save." There's no going back from my diagnosis, all I can do is save the life I have now.