It has now been a little over 3 months since my diagnosis of Type I Diabetes. While I still can't believe it, I feel like I am getting a handle on managing it. I usually can keep my blood glucose levels within the appropriate range and I feel pretty good most of the time. Really, the eating and insulin are the easy parts of the routine.
For anyone who has a condition or illness that requires constant vigilance, the hardest part is the emotional drain that it takes. I know that this is not true, but somewhere in the back of my mind, there is this thought that this is temporary and that sooner or later I can return to my old life. Always before, there was an end date. If I got sick with a cold or flu or bronchitis, in a couple of days or weeks, I would feel well again and be able to breathe without coughing or eat without vomiting. If I was training for a specific event and was on a strict diet, I knew that after the event I could eat potatoes or lima beans again. Six to eight weeks after an injury, the healing would be well on it's way. But now, there is no end date. This routine of taking insulin, counting carbohydrates is eternal. And if I think about it too much, it is depressing.
One thing I can say that this experience has taught me, it is to be more tolerant of people who are really suffering. I have a dear friend who has MS and another dear friend with cancer and my heart bleeds for them. So what if I have to take a few shots a day. At least I still have use of my arms and legs. At least I still have all my hair. At least I don't have to go to the clinic for treatments every week.
I had been blessed with perfect health for a long time and now, not so much, but it isn't all that bad.