Diabetes: What If?

We bleed through this disease in more ways than one, but what if? And I’m not proposing some miracle cure, some hogwash alternative remedy beyond the honest diet and exercise. What I am proposing is purely theoretical – a fantasy or nightmare – what would you give up to stop the bleeding? Could you lose time to make time? And this is where it gets rather outlandish; her is the proposal; one year only (12 months, 365 non leap days) in a medically induced coma; where you lay there, sugar levels constantly monitored; fed and medicated through a drip; nothing fancy, nothing technical, just lots and lots of sleep to be caught up as you lay there oblivious to the world and your family pop in to visit – even the press have popped in to take a few snaps, you are flavour of the month.

It’s nice not to worry about money isn’t it? Your better half holds your hand, every day, playing the songs you love and whispering how they love you. Phoebe has had a baby! Your cousin Joey turned 21 today; he will be in a prison cell before he makes 22. Aunt Monica had a heart bypass; uncle Chandler, he’s got that angina.

Orderlies’ stretch and work your muscles; your colostomy bag is pure as the driven snow. That job you hated, they got taken over, under new management, said they had to let you go. Something in your contract: seems your days off in absenteeism have made your productivity terminally ill.

And your eyes are healing nicely. Your Dr. said you couldn’t do it but you did; all those little vessels retracting and BMI back to perfect. Twinkle toes the Nurses’ call you, but no one is around to hear them. Your life partner, the one you love, the one you drove crazy with the fluctuating blood sugar emotions, now makes your best friend very happy. It was hard to look at you, watch you sleeping; they had to take comfort in someone.

Hey, uncle Chandler and his angina. I’m sorry. What? We are forgetting, you didn’t even know he was ill when you went under.

Well that’s you then, time to get up, wakey-wakey-eggs-and-bacey, an ice cube in your mouth and peace of mind. A healing rest untouched by stress in a tidy, empty room.

And on a good day, diabetes is not such a bad disease to have.

By Paul Cathcart, Author of, ‘Persona Non Grata with Diabetes.’

www.pngwd.com

Click here to purchase “Persona Non Grata with Diabetes” on Amazon (US).

Click here to purchase “Persona Non Grata with Diabetes” on Amazon (UK).

Diabetes Awareness?

On a good day, diabetes isn’t a bad disease to have – I say this all the time. On a bad day, when I’m so crazy, infuriated and angry about the slightest, next-to-nothing, when I’m ‘exploitative’ hating myself for finding a normal day so difficult and I just can’t get my sugar to come down; when I’m so scared my eye bleeds again and a world of opportunity threatening to be taken away from me; well then I’ll seriously consider swapping you my diabetes for something else, you take your pick.

 

We sit around these closed groups, shuttered off from prying, probably numbed and uninterested eyes, ebbing closer on folding wooden chairs, and it strikes me, that to read into a diabetes blog on a personal level, to commit to comment whilst disguising our truer self from scrutiny; we are more-or-less embedding ourselves into the world of Alcoholic’s Anonymous, with all inherent shame and inaccurate social conclusion.

Diabetes Awareness Week then, is that the solution? Depends on what the awareness is I suppose. Because when Diabetes Awareness stands for diagnosis, balloons popped, smiles and cheers; well that’s not my diabetes, and in turn that diabetes awareness inherits me shame. But then again, as I always say, ‘diabetes isn’t a bad disease to have – on a good day.’

*On a good day definition

We live in a time when I won’t have to wrestle a Tiger to the ground to feed my wife. I could probably even hobble to the shops for some fish sticks on an amputated foot. Also, with level sugar for a couple of day, I feel awesome.

 

 

 

FREE COPY of ‘Persona non grata with diabetes’

READER REVIEWS are in http://pngwd.com/readerreviews.html … Get your FREE COPY, just friend me on Facebook, Twitter, Google Plus or LinkedIn and I’ll email you one out. I want to share this out with as many diabetics as possible.

To be honest, the Diabetes Industry really offends me. At a time when people are struggling to cover costs of food and their Health Care providers are refusing them medication, yet they still just push and push more products onto us diabetics. “Buy a diet book, buy a Diet-Coke, buy another diet-book, have some more expensive medication. Oh you’re not healthy yet? Better lose your job and buy another diabetic friendly book.’ and repeat till face.

This is our disease and we must support each other. So yeah ‘Persona non grata with diabetes’ will always be free for those who can’t afford it. I grew up with nothing but love; I’ll leave with nothing but love.

 

Paul

 

p.s if you are flush with cash its only £2.99 / $4.99 and available in 51 countries world wide today http://pngwd.com/store.html .

Scared to be a diabetic dad

Scared to put a child through this. Sometimes its not a good day, sometimes I’m at the Doctors and on the end of horror evaluation. ‘I’ve been pissing like crazy and up all night.’ ‘It’s probably just nerve damage caused by diabetes,’ she replies. Turns out to be too much Diet-Coke irritating my innards.

Smack goes my toes off the doorstop around Christmas (no I was not drunk). First Nurse tells me, the one beside the big one that does not bend, that one is broken and has fused badly. Surgeon at the hospital tells me, ‘It’s not broken, its probably diabetes killing off the nerve endings in your feet.’ I’m looking at this guy; I haven’t even taken my fucking shoe off yet.

I don’t know if many of you have read much of my book, but I’ve been through much of all of this already with Background Retinopathy, Macular edema, laser eye surgery and an injection of Lucentis into my eyeball. And I think I’m on top of this, in no small way thanks to the Three Bears of Blood Sugar. So the last thing in the world I need is every medical professional who has read a pamphlet telling me I’m self-destructing, because it’s not me I’m thinking of anymore.

Conversations with old people, “Everything is shit, everything hurts, everything began falling off when I turned forty.” I’m thirty-six years of age, I don’t want to be having these conversations ever, I don’t want to be gearing up for this pish when my own little bastard is either smashing windows or taking insulin shots.

Cursed by this in the background, I don’t want my child to be entering his or her diabetic solstice aged fifteen.  I’m terrified to put them though this, not in reality because of anything wrong with me, but because of the headlines that kill us, and the people stupid enough to believe them. My kids will be brought up by Natasha and I in the most idyllic country surroundings and blessed with love, nurtured in organic protein and should they genetically disembowel as I have into diabetes?

There is nothing about this disease; there is nothing about how I live now that would allow this disease to disrupt a young life. 

On a good day, this is not such a bad disease to have and I have the healthy furry toes to prove it!

 

Paul Cathcart, Author of ‘Persona non grata with diabetes.’