Being Diabetic: Why It’s A Pain

Growing up in a home where my mother didn’t like sweets was the norm. It didn’t mean that I didn’t like them. In fact, I think it made my enjoyment of them even more profound. I didn’t always eat the healthiest. I didn’t drink a lot of water. But I did drink a lot of milk, eat three meals a day, and I was active. I remember going through several years when I would weigh myself twice a day and track it in a little book. My mother was always on a diet, and she thought I needed to be on one as well.

I have avoided the word D I E T like the plague since I was in my early teens. I wasn’t worried about all of that stuff. I wanted to enjoy my life, and food is a part of that; always has been.

In my early married years we ate healthy as the money had to stretch further so buying essentials was important. However, I worked at convenience store, so of course other foods would sneak in. Moving from Utah to Georgia in the early eighties meant I was being exposed to a whole new culture of food and eating experiences. Many of the southern foods I loved right away; some I would never grow to love. This love/hate relationship with foods sometimes caused friction with my MIL, but I liked what I liked. That was it.

I am a mother of six, five of whom I birthed. During two pregnancies (my 2nd and 5th) I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes. I ate healthy during my pregnancies, but I would eat or drink some items to extremes. I remember eating a can of green beans for dinner; or, drinking an entire gallon of milk in less than two days. I remember eating my favorite food on a daily basis (Cottage Cheese and Tomatoes smothered in pepper!) And, I remember doctor’s being extremely unforgiving and wanting me to take shots. I refused.

No way was I going to do the one thing that scared me more than anything else. I hated needles. I faint at the sight of them, and my anxiety over getting a shot has always been extreme. I can’t even watch a movie when they pull out a needle. (Just ask my family!)

However, here I am now in my late 50’s and I’ve been a diabetic for over 10 years. I give myself shots daily, and I hate it.

Some perspective…

I am not under weight. Never have been. I am probably considered overweight by everyone. However, I accept who I am for what I am. I’ve gone through periods where I lost a ton of weight and ate extremely healthy, but I was still diabetic. I’ve gone through periods of depression and ate comfort food, and I was still diabetic. Today, I weigh more than I’d like, and during this Coronavirus period I’m not exercising or as active as much as I should be, and I’m still diabetic.

I pay attention to which foods spike my blood sugar and when I shouldn’t eat them. I pay attention to my triggers – you know – the foods that I want to eat anyway and do it. I pay attention to my body and do my best to improve, but sometimes it’s a tradeoff.

The pain of being a diabetic comes now in other ways. It’s the meds. When you work with an insurance company who doesn’t allow you to find the medicine that works best for you, you end up trying a ton of meds that don’t work. I’ve had bouts of nausea on a daily basis, which led to tears and depression because I couldn’t go on like that. I’ve been using a pen med for over three years now, and it works well in conjunction with other meds, but my insurance won’t fund it. That means I am relying on samples through my doctor’s office to use a medicine that works better for me…and I have an unstable supply.

With the rise in costs for insulin being in the news, I worry about how this might continue to affect me in the future. However, diabetes is something I believe I will continue to deal with for some time to come. It might be reversible in others, but I’ve tried much and don’t see that being something that will happen for me. I check religiously for external signs of what this disease/condition is doing to my body. I get regular massages and I am doing my best to manage it.

It’s still a pain. Giving myself a daily shot (or two) isn’t great. But I’m managing. I still cover my eyes when watching a movie. I am realistic about my eating choices, and I hardly ever eat French Fries now!

Speaking To Inspire

We listen to people every day. People have something to say, something they are passionate about. Often when we listen to someone speaking, we want to hear their message, but the way they say it can get in the way of that message.

A good speaker can deliver a message. We may or may not remember it weeks later, but a great speaker weaves a story that inspires us. We can feel how the message will in essence change us.

As a Toastmaster since 2000, I’ve given many speeches. Some of course were about me – who I am and what I’ve experienced. Others were about my work, my dating life, or my plans for the future. And still others, were meant to inspire. Becoming a great speaker isn’t something you can do overnight. You need to search for what makes you get up every morning and what drives you. What you’re most passionate about. Then speak about it – often.

I certainly hear a lot of people speaking; I hear the words they are saying, and I know that words can have meaning. However, I am not sure I’m always listening to what they mean to say. It’s easy to trip up on the use of the wrong words; or even the filler words they use over and over again. You know, the so’s, um’s. ah’s…those pesky thought breakers; speech stealers.

Today if you’re reading this, I hope you’ll at least try to pay attention to what you say. Think mindfully about how to speak with others and make a conscious effort to change your bad speaking habits. Taking a pause to say nothing at all while you plan your next words might help others stop and listen to what you’re saying instead of what you can’t get out of your mouth.

Speaking passionately about something you know and understand should be effortless. Just try it! Speak with passion, and without the words that are not helping you get your message across to those you want to inspire!