Today marks two years ago that a pasty woman doctor with scraggly hair made a mock motion of anointing me with holy water in my hospital bed as she declared, "you are now a Diabetic." She was trying to make light of the situation, of course, but I was horrified.
After a night of being re-hydrated via IV, and woken every 20 minutes for a vital-signs check, plus every 2 hours for insulin shots, I'd had exactly NO sleep and a severe case of "moon face" -— which scared the hell out of me, because my father had exactly the same moon face when I visited him in the hospital a few months before he died. They worked so hard at bringing my BG levels down that I had an ugly low at 6:30am, in which I was nearly incapable of pushing the "nurse" button. It was an ugly week all around.
I have been through a fast-forward version of the stages: denial, isolation,
anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I remember spending one whole day on the couch crying, and then in the
evening, picking myself up and setting myself in front of the computer to start
figuring this thing out. Obviously, I
haven't stopped since.
And today, I am stronger, faster, better. Today I can laugh about most of the little
things that make life as a diabetic so much more complex. (Is that rice ball as
big as my fist? Or bigger? Are those
extra pen needles in the van or the SUV? Will I have a low during mommy-and-me swimming class yet again?!)
And LOOK where I am spending today. At a diabetes symposium! And I'm actually excited
about it. Afterwards I'm hosting a Teddy
Bear party and sleepover for 10 little girls! A little crazy, yes, but what
better way to celebrate my good health (no complications yet) and the LIFE that
I now appreciate as a gift worthy of celebration every single day?