This is your year. Karma should be firmly by your side after the hole you just climbed out of. Right?
One must never grow complacent, even during a comeback.
Despite my excitement for the year ahead; the happiness of living, planning, and playing, I couldn’t shake this sense of exhaustion that would creep over me like a warm cloud of Netflix-temptation over the past few months.
I chocked it up to stress. Lord knows that’s a logical theory.
But then other strange symptoms manifested.
On Friday, I woke up and the world was blurry. Street signs no longer had meaning. It added up, but didn’t add up. So I had my blood drawn.
On Tuesday, I threw a small tantrum when the results came back.
On Wednesday, I accepted and took action.
I researched for three hours and crafted a list of labs, medications, and options.
I stopped at CVS and picked up a blood glucose monitor and ketone strips.
I called an optometrist and got in on a cancellation, investing $300 in the opportunity to read street signs again soon.
I dropped into my doctor’s office, where two messages had yet to be returned, and demanded an appointment.
I have Type 1 Diabetes. At 30 years old. WTF?
Less than 1/2 a percent of Americans have Type 1 diabetes, an autoimmune disorder where my body eventually won an ill-conceived war against my pancreas, which tapped out and stopped producing insulin.
Thanks, body. Great effort.
Today, I am swapping carbs for insulin as my drug of choice and focusing on silver linings.
Regardless of how irritating reliance on these cute little insulin “pens” is, I woke up this morning. I played with my kids. I went for a run. And then I doodled while appreciating a rare and loud winter thunder storm. Oh, and I didn’t have to answer to anyone but myself.