I have always had a soft spot for March 13, especially when it falls on a Friday. This March 13, I am celebrating twenty years with type one diabetes. I was diagnosed with a broken pancreas when I was six months old, and I joke that I have been insufferable about it ever since. The truth is, I usually mention it whenever my pump buzzes, or someone notices the Dexcom patch on my arm, or says a joke about how “all diabetics are fat”.
I am always aware of something diabetes related; it consumes a good portion of my thoughts daily. I’m used to planning my day out perfectly so that when things inevitably go wrong, blood sugar-wise, I have a plan. Even though I’ve lived with a deadbeat pancreas my entire life, it can be physically and mentally exhausting. As I am currently writing, my Dexcom sensor, which sends blood glucose readings to my phone and makes managing my numbers way easier, has failed two days before I’m supposed to change it. Typically, this is all hidden away behind a curtain, so nobody sees me struggling or annoyed at the fact that I am my own organ.
On my “diaversary” (diabetes anniversary), I try to make a point every year of celebrating the diabetes wins (and losses) throughout the year, typically by grabbing a sweet treat or drink for myself and deciding to ignore every “you’re not a good enough diabetic” comment my brain usually comes up with. This day is also the day it feels as if diabetes backs off for a day, usually allowing me to just focus on myself as a person and not a person living with type one diabetes.
Don’t get me wrong, I have an excellent support system that I will praise endlessly for being people who encourage me to complain about how lousy my physical pancreatic organ is. My diaversary is a milestone in my life that is really difficult for me to ignore. I have been attached to the artificial hormone of insulin for as long as I can remember. As far as I am concerned, there will always be a part of my brain that sees myself as a human organ.
In honor of my achieving twenty years of having type one diabetes on March 13, here is a collection of memories of various situations I have found myself in over the years:
“Are you sure you can eat that?”
This one is the most common phrase and the most annoying for me to hear. I am twenty years old, and every time it’s asked, it makes me feel like a toddler at the dinner table who is yet to learn how to read the nutrition facts label. I am capable of making those decisions for myself. I also believe in enjoying what I eat and not restricting myself to make it “easier” for my deadbeat pancreas. I understand wanting to check in, but I would prefer you put trust in my previous twenty-ish years of caring for myself.
“But, you’re skinny.”/ “You’re too skinny
to be a diabetic.”
Grow up. This is an insane stereotype that will never die. Similar to the idea that anything with sugar causes diabetes. Arguably an awful thing to say to someone, especially if you barely know the person. I hate the comment and will be grumbly for the rest of the day when someone says anything about my weight and diabetes in the same sentence (except my diabetes doctor).
“I heard you can’t get pregnant, I’m so
Sorry.”
A complete stranger has said this to me after asking about my Dexcom in high school. There’s a lot to this statement, and it brings up a lot. There are a lot of factors that go into pregnancy to begin with; for people with type one diabetes, these factors are multiplied, so that thinking about the endless possibilities with those factors includes diabetes management for every single factor. I don’t personally want kids to begin with, but it is not because I have type one diabetes (although it does have a role in my personal choice). Thank you, stranger, for the comment.
“So, you’re a spy?”
On a much happier note, this was said by a younger kid I was watching. The child had asked about my pump, and I attempted to explain diabetes in younger kid language. The child interrupted me and whispered in a very excited tone to see if I was a spy. The child explained that my pump looked like a walkie-talkie and that they wouldn’t blow my cover, so I went with it. This conversation made my day on a rollercoaster ride of blood sugar numbers, and I revisit it quite frequently on some of my worst days.
“You just need to do better managing it.”
Not said by my parents, but one of my uncles said this to encourage me to aim for a better time in range during my middle school years. I will share that it had the opposite effect. For context, my middle school years were the worst diabetes years with effects that still haunt me. This comment is one of them. It is the root of all my negative “I’m a terrible diabetic” thoughts that pop up every time my blood sugar goes out of range, even if I can’t help it. This comment, coming from someone who is not a diabetic and knows nothing about how a diabetic lives daily, is incredibly rude and insulting. I am doing the best I can to do what a functioning pancreas does naturally. You’ll have to forgive me if I act a little human.
The list could go on and on, but these are memories that stick with me. I choose to celebrate the fact that I have survived another year with type one diabetes. Happy Friday the thirteenth, or in my case, Happy Twentieth Diaversary to me!