2003-02-03 - 10:58 a.m.
I had a moment.
I was in the car with my best friend, driving away from the Marina Safeway (aka Singles Safeway) and it hit me. I really am diabetic.
This thought took a moment to form. About 45 minutes before it crystalized, we were sitting in the In & Out at Pier 39 and I was eating a double double, protien style. I looked at my lettuce wrapped hamburger and thought to myself "this is not a normal way to eat". I started thinking about all of the adjustments I had made to my diet to control this condition. I don't eat potatoes any more. Every piece of bread is a bit of a cringe because it's a couple more points on the blood sugar monitor. I can't bake anymore. No more root beer floats or sundaes. I have made these changes (and even stick to them most of the time) but have managed to grey out the reason I am doing them. I even went so far as to say, out loud, that I was questioning whether or not I was diabetic.
But low numbers doesn't make it not true. They simply mean I am controlling it. They simply mean that, so long as I continue on this track, I won't end up back in the hospital with needles in my arms, monitors stuck to my chest, and my mother looking at me with that little concerned frown of hers that hides so much fear and worry.
I still need to live a different life. I still need to "keep an eye on it". I still need to consider having children very carefully.
I will take this with me to Portland. I will take this with me into new relationships. I will take this with me to school. I will take this with me everywhere I go.
Jesus, the inescabability of one's reality. No Plan in the world is gonna save me from this one.
Perhaps it shouldn't.
M
