This week I have been mostly realizing that I need to
start acting my age, not my shoe size. I
don’t mean all the time; sometimes there’s nothing better than behaving like a
kid! But, on the flip side, there are plenty of times when, as an adult, you
need to step up and take responsibility. I am not very good at doing this! A
number of examples have arisen this week; I will share the diabetes one.
This week, in diabetes terms, wasn’t great. I keep on
getting confused and making mistakes with my dosing, something that can be
rectified by writing them down. But the thing that triggered this post was my
eating pattern. I have been hypoing after school and have been consistently
over-treating, using the hypoes as an excuse to eat a whole load of stuff that I
know I shouldn’t treat low blood sugar with: chocolate mainly. Chocolate is
high in fat and the fat slows down the absorption of the carbs. The best thing
to treat hypoes with (for me, anyway) is fruit juice, one carton has just the
right amount of sugar to raise my blood sugar levels without causing a huge
spike, and because it’s liquid it’s absorbed quickly. The thing is, when I am
feeling hypoey, my body screams at me for sugar. This leads to a raid of the
cupboards and a subsequent binge on anything remotely sugary. I know for a fact
that this is a scientific thing, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s bad
for me. Afterwards I feel guilty, about my blood sugars and the amount of food
I’ve eaten; I get angry with myself and then invariable take it out on poor J.
I also end up with a stratospherically high reading before dinner. This in turn
means I have to take a larger dose of insulin with dinner and means I’m
struggling to figure out my dinnertime ratios and my overnight basal dose.
I have gotten away with a lot in my life and I don’t
think I truly appreciated this until now. As a kid I think I was pretty normal,
but then once I had been diagnosed with diabetes everything changed. I mean, of
course it did! It was traumatic for me, and for those around me. And the people
around me all dealt with it in different ways. I remember visitors when I was
in hospital: some were fascinated by the needles and the blood tests; others
were horrified (one nearly fainted!); and some I don’t really remember at all.
And the reactions, of course, didn’t stop. Now, most people ask lots of
questions. Some hone in on the injections, “I could NEVER do that!” Strangers
often stare when they see me do a blood test of inject. But among people I talk
to there is a common theme of pity: comments about how hard it must be. And yes,
it is hard. But equally, it shouldn’t be an excuse for my bad behaviour, which
I think it evolved into
fairly quickly. Now I know that some of you reading this will tell me off for
being hard on myself, but I’m trying not trying to tear myself to pieces, I am
trying to be constructively critical. For so many years I have not taken my
diabetes seriously. And even now, when I really do try to take it seriously, I
still cannot do the things that I know I need to to live a healthy life. Things
like eating sensibly, exercising and making changes to my daily diabetes routines.
But the thing is, not doing them just leads to me feeling bad about myself and
behaving like a spoilt child.
The problem is, I’m no longer a child. There comes a
point where excuses need to stop and responsibility needs to start. I am coming
to terms with this far too late.
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