Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Don't Nod Your Head Because You Know That I'm Right.


I am fucking pissed. I am done having fucking diabetes. I get it. Everyone has shit happen to them. But fuck that theory. 

I didn't give this to myself. I didn't say, "Hey, how the hell can I really fuck up my body by giving myself an illness that NO ONE knows how it happens." I'm fucking sick of explaining to all the lousy, non-educated people that think it's an obesity problem and that I ate too many goddamn cheeseburgers and drank too many sodas and ate candy until my pancreas said, "Fuck you, I'm outty 5000." I'm even fucking angrier that I used to think that shit. I didn't understand it. I still don't understand this stupid fucking disease. I knew I'd get it, too. I even said to a few people, I'm gonna fucking get Diabetes some day, just watch. Tim and I used to joke that my diabetes was flaring up. If I cursed myself, that's a fucking fucked up fucking twist of fate. 

I don't want to check my meter any more. I'm pissed that I have to prick my finger four times a day, AND pay for it. I really hate all the money stuff. It's dumb. You think eating healthy is expensive? Try buying insulin. Something your body requires to break down food. REQUIRES. MEANING NOT A FUCKING OPTION.

I'm pissed that I have to watch a bunch of people not have it. Especially around meals. I love taking bites into things right as they get there. But be careful, if you take your insulin too soon, you'll pass out. So wait to do it until you see food. Do you know how goddamn annoying it is to snack? Holidays suck balls. Going out to eat is a pain in the motherfucking ass.*Although I have to admit, my husband and my best friend/business partner are the best about waiting with me, which is great because I probably eat with them 90% of the time I'm not working.

I'm annoyed as all get out I can't proceed with everything normally. I have to pay attention to my body like no other.

I'm hella fucking mad that I had to give up smoking. I get it, it's a horrible habit. It makes you smell, and hurts your teeth, your organs, you circulation, your brain, your fingernails, everything. But it was fucking good to get pissed and smoke a cigarette. Or that first cig in the morning. That was a good one. Or how about while drinking. OOOOOhhhhh to smoke and drink. *It's been almost five weeks! Yay I can breathe easier.* But you know, I don't meet people as easily. Or enjoy deep inhales of tasty menthol. You don't know if you're gonna get cancer. Let's face it, lots of people smoke and never get it. My great grandmother was a champion closet smoker. She never had cancer. She was a rockstar. If I get fucking lung cancer I am going to be pissed I didn't keep fucking smoking.

I'm mad I can't drink regular coke like I used to. Or eat chocolate all the time. Or binge eat right before my period. Or not just go to sleep without pricking my finger and injecting myself. I'm mad I pass out in gas stations. And have to pull the car over while driving. And put the baby down while she's crying and needs comfort. Or not have to be in constant contact with a doctor about diabetes care--although, again, I'm lucky he hasn't been annoyed with all my phone calls and is patient and caring with me and understands when I cry in his office. #dontjudgeme

I'm mad I have to wake up in the middle of the night. And soon, its gonna be very uncomfortable to lay in one position all night some times. I'm mad that I get so high in the morning. And not the good kind when I'd smoke pot all morning. No. it means that my blood sugar shoots up (it's called dawn phenomenon) and I have to inject myself asap so I can eat to bring it down. If that doesn't bring it down, I chug water and pee as much as possible to get the blood flowing and the sugar out. Sounds like a ton of fucking fun, right? IT'S NOT.

I can't exercise without my blood sugar jumping to a 290. I took a walk. Not briskly. I strolled. I took a thirty minute stroll around the fucking block. And SPIKE! I used to be the best runner. I used to walk tot he gym and then run. And I'd feel great. Then I'd follow it up with a can of Coke and some hard boiled eggs. Or leftovers from chinese the night before. Best. Breakfast. Ever.

I just don't want it. I know it's not going any where. Until I go. But I'm not giving up that easily. Diabetes can go fuck itself.


  1. you have been through a lot in a very short amount of time. In your shoes, I'd be furious too. I'm glad you wrote this and got it out.

    deep breath. one day at a time. you CAN do this. yes, it effing sucks ass, but you can do it. i mean it!

    1. As weird as it sounds I think you'll find the pump really helps you feel a little more normal most of the time (as contrary as that sounds since you wear it 24/7) I was extremely against getting a pump, but I finally gave in about 5 years ago and got one. WOW! what a difference it makes. I don't have to leave the table anymore to take a shot - I just press a couple buttons and insulin is on board. At least for me it really helped level out my blood sugars too - so not nearly the number of highs and lows.
      I won't lie though setting it up was the most miserable days of diabetes, but stick with it and it is definitely worth it!
      Keep trying and the days your frustrated like this will decrease (I'm on year 18 and I'm not sure they ever go away - but they definitely get fewer and far between as you learn how your body reacts.

  2. Hi Charli, I just found your blog and enjoy reading it. I like your writing style and your honesty - you are very authentic in expressing what's going on in your mind and your body.

    Let me tell you something about the pump ... I resisted getting one for years. Too many years to count, actually, and pretty much for the same reasons as you. Sleeping on it, looking unattractive to my wife, dealing with insurance and supplies, baby (who was on the way), the whole thing. (Also, playing ice hockey, something I used to love to do and didn't know how I'd work that with a pump, but the baby put an end - hopefully a temporary one - to my free time and hockey-playing days).

    Starting on the pump was frustrating, to be honest. The CDE who was to guide me through it was a slightly absent-minded and highly irritating. She was worried about me going low that she dialed back my dose significantly in the morning, so I was in the 300's until well after lunch. Her Fran Drescher-like voice was anything but calming.

    However, after a week or so "transition", everything was fine. I found a handy cell-phone belt pouch thing that some Manahttan street vendor was selling, and it fit the pump perfectly. (My pockets weren't a good choice, 'cause I kept worring that I'd stab it with pens and scratch it with coins). There's a bit of a learning curve in figuring out how to use it, and how to use it well, and if you've got a great endo you're well ahead of the game. I've got the flexibility to eat when I want (or not eat when I'm in a place where I can't), and to exercise without fear of a low.

    I never got horribly infected (a few red marks when I've left it in longer than I should, but that's entirely my fault). I learned how to connect the site without much discomfort (I do NOT use the inserter device!). I bend the tubing in a "U" shape and put tape across it so that any tug would put stress on that spot and not the infusion site (an old electrician trick). I put it in my pocket to sleep, and then it usally falls out - with the long tubing, it's no big deal. I disconnect for showers, swimming, and sex.

    Now, approaching five years with it, I'm glad I've got it and I don't plan on turning back. It's like brushing my teeth -- I do that all the time, too. No big deal.

    Good luck with it; I'm sure you'll be fine. If you've got questions, we're all here for you.