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November 30, 2006 Split Infinitives 
(I wasn't sure I was going to post this--it's been in draft form for a while--but a post from an LJ friend about avoiding her husband's cystic fibrosis from time to time made me rethink it.) Sometimes, I don't test my blood sugar before I eat. I assume it's fine and shoot up for the grams on the box. Sometimes, I do that for three meals in a row. Or three days. It isn't that I don't care about myself, or my health. It isn't that I'm depressed. It's not that I don't think I'm worth it (though there's that, too). It's that sometimes, being present for this disease, its demands and its potential, is too much to take. Managing diabetes successfully requires thinking about it; and thinking about it means thinking about why the testing is necessary. It means thinking about the potential complications, even if only from the vantage of preventing them. Thinking about preventing them still entails thinking about exactly what it is that I'm preventing. And sometimes, it's too much. I need to not think about it. I split that infinitive on purpose. In this case, "not thinking" is a conscious activity, not the mere absence of thought. Not that it ever introduces itself that way. "Hello, Andrea; it's Not-Thinking again. Mind if I stay for a while?" No. Instead, it masks itself as boredom--oh god, do I have to test again? Fourteen-hundred times per year for fourteen years--how many blood sugar tests is that? Do I have to write it down? Still? Can't I just take a fucking day off? Or a week? Or the holiday season? Or 2007? It's amazing how successfully resistance can disguise itself as boredom time after time and in an infinite variety of situations, and I am fooled over and over again. I am bored of this story, of this job, of this project, of this disease. Bored stiff. And the boredom flies under the radar. I am, yes, bored of the infinite blood tests, the endless minute calculations, the minor adjustments and major overhauls, the thoughts of blindness and amputation and stroke. It seems unlikely because it is; I'm not actually bored. I'm scared. So far, I have been lucky. Not-thinking has not yet permanently damaged me in any measurable way. But how to get myself to spend enough time thinking about diabetes to manage to head off the worst of the complications without immobilizing myself is a question I have yet to answer. Posted by Andrea at November 30, 2006 7:19 AM under Pins and Needles EMAIL this entry (comments fields are below this section) Comments My midwife sent me for testing for Gestational Diabetes because some tests she had done indicated that I might have it. So while I was waiting for further testing she told me I better eat like a diabetic would just in case. Essentially it was about one month that I wasn't sure if I had it or not, so I "ate like a diabetic" just in case. I ended up not having it (but then, that child was born 10 pounds 4 ounces, so... who knows) Anyway, my point is that it was excruciatingly hard. I had to do so much research into eating. I had to STUDY. Eating became a chore. I couldn't behave the way I normally would in social settings where food was present. Everything felt different. That experienced opened my eyes in a big way to what people with diabetes go through. I honour you in your bordom and not thinkingness (though of course, I hope you take care of yourself too). It's a hard road you're on. I bet I'd feel the exact same way if I were in your shoes. Posted by: krista at November 30, 2006 10:31 AM
I wish there were such a thing as a "Get out of diabetes free" card. If there were, I'd get it for you for Yule. Posted by: liz at November 30, 2006 2:08 PM
Andrea, when did you start living in my brain? Posted by: art-sweet at November 30, 2006 4:12 PM
Hey Liz, get that card for all of us out here. Posted by: Lyrehca at November 30, 2006 4:15 PM
Yes, I do think that our boredness is a cover for our "not-thinking" mode, but WHY do we get into this mode. I think it is b/c we feel cornered. Why bother trying if complications will come knocking at our door anyhow! We feel failure is inevitable. A problem shared is so much smaller, but how often do we feel that our medical advisors really share our concerns? This is my second try to comment! Posted by: Chrissie in Belgium at December 1, 2006 7:37 AM
Andrea, you have so eloquently articulated my greatest wish for my partner, that he could have a "time out" from his diabetes and MS. The "no diabetes" part of that wish is extended also to you and all diabetics. Thanks for your posts during November's Diabetes Awareness month. Posted by: Sue at December 1, 2006 3:10 PM
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