Need and Needles
My girlfriend was sitting on the edge of the bed, sweating. Water was pouring from her forehead and her eyes were low, almost sagging to the floor. I knew for certain she was going to pass out. There was a bottle of fruit punch Gatorade and some popcorn brittle on the dresser across from her. She immediately grabbed both, consuming the liquid in one gulp and swallowing the brittle, nearly emptying the bag. I feel better now is what I recall hearing her say in some fashion. The question of what just happened was bare on my face, waiting for an answer. Her response was simply put that her sugar had dropped. I knew she was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, but I've never come face to face with what I now call "The Sugar Monster" until then. The situation was no longer a thought, but a reality.
I'm not educated on all aspects of Diabetes. I am aware that it's one of the leading diseases that's crippling the black community, let along every other culture. I know that I workout and eat healthy every day to avoid the possibility of acquiring it or passing it down to my future children. I know that an old friend of mine has it, explaining why he had to be excused from class to obtain a Snickers bar every day. I know that cuts and bruises heal differently on diabetics than others who don't suffer from this condition. I know that my girlfriend has diabetes, but I don't know what it feels like to live with it.
I'm not aware of the late night trips to the bathroom or having to refuse beautifully glazed donuts or several types of food at the buffet restaurant. I don't know how it feels to be a few minutes into a workout , going full force, only to slow down due to nausea, placing a halt to your gym visit. I don't know how it feels to forget syringes and strips to check blood sugar and take insulin while sitting in a moving car or on the front row in church while everyone's singing. The facts that I see are that my girlfriend needs me just as much as she needs her needles. I have to be considerate of where and when we eat. I have to carry needles myself because she requires them every where she goes. I have to be knowledgeable of what to do if ever her blood sugar peaks or drops. I have to be ready for the impromptu.
What makes this easier is the fact that I care about her well-being. She and I can't always share the same experiences in similar manners. Being considerate of her needs is just as important as her being mindful of mine. We all have limitations, but we can't overlook our humanity. We compare each other's problems just as much as our bank accounts, children, accomplishments, etc. We refuse to accept the fact that we aren't exempted from the inevitable (what God has placed in our paths not to interfere, but enhance). What good does this do for me, we ask ourselves when it comes to crippling conditions. Well, it gives Him glory, magnifying His ability to still be powerful in such powerless circumstances. My girlfriend maybe weak before having to raise her blood sugar or bring it down, but fortunately, I'll be in reach to supply her with what she needs. He's working through her, myself, and everyone else who's able to contribute. If my sacrifice in anything is worth bettering her health, then so be it. If she's worth dying for in reference to God, then she's worth living for as well.
I'm not educated on all aspects of Diabetes. I am aware that it's one of the leading diseases that's crippling the black community, let along every other culture. I know that I workout and eat healthy every day to avoid the possibility of acquiring it or passing it down to my future children. I know that an old friend of mine has it, explaining why he had to be excused from class to obtain a Snickers bar every day. I know that cuts and bruises heal differently on diabetics than others who don't suffer from this condition. I know that my girlfriend has diabetes, but I don't know what it feels like to live with it.
I'm not aware of the late night trips to the bathroom or having to refuse beautifully glazed donuts or several types of food at the buffet restaurant. I don't know how it feels to be a few minutes into a workout , going full force, only to slow down due to nausea, placing a halt to your gym visit. I don't know how it feels to forget syringes and strips to check blood sugar and take insulin while sitting in a moving car or on the front row in church while everyone's singing. The facts that I see are that my girlfriend needs me just as much as she needs her needles. I have to be considerate of where and when we eat. I have to carry needles myself because she requires them every where she goes. I have to be knowledgeable of what to do if ever her blood sugar peaks or drops. I have to be ready for the impromptu.
What makes this easier is the fact that I care about her well-being. She and I can't always share the same experiences in similar manners. Being considerate of her needs is just as important as her being mindful of mine. We all have limitations, but we can't overlook our humanity. We compare each other's problems just as much as our bank accounts, children, accomplishments, etc. We refuse to accept the fact that we aren't exempted from the inevitable (what God has placed in our paths not to interfere, but enhance). What good does this do for me, we ask ourselves when it comes to crippling conditions. Well, it gives Him glory, magnifying His ability to still be powerful in such powerless circumstances. My girlfriend maybe weak before having to raise her blood sugar or bring it down, but fortunately, I'll be in reach to supply her with what she needs. He's working through her, myself, and everyone else who's able to contribute. If my sacrifice in anything is worth bettering her health, then so be it. If she's worth dying for in reference to God, then she's worth living for as well.
Babe, I can't say "thank you" because it doesn't really cover how I feel. I'm so grateful that, even know you don't know or fully understand, you have compassion for me that I forget to have on myself. There are days when I become angry or disappointed with myself for not meeting "the standard". Legally and medically, I have a disability. It's listed amongst being blind, deaf, and the other list of disabilities that healthy people don't pay attention to. Then you come along, at times, as a voice of reason and I remember that everyone can't handle this. Some people literally faint under pressure and end up losing limbs, going into organ failure, or dying because of Type 1 Diabetes. There are days when I want to throw all of my medications and meter against the wall and scream in fits of rage, but I always remember that it never fixes anything. I do cry, sometimes, when I fall under the weight of "holding it all together". I wonder how many years the Lord has given me with this disease and what kind of life I'll have when (if) I'm old. However, as Trip Lee described in his song entitled "Sweet Victory," I have real hope, a hope that the life I will live in the presence of God will be void of any such physical suffering.
ReplyDeleteThank you for caring. I don't say that lightly. You are not just aware of my condition, you're involved. That's the truest mark of friendship: "bearing each other's burdens". Thank you for all the times that you literally do this with me, even FOR me. For the shots you've administered in my arm when I was wearing a dress. For the stops you've made when I needed a juice. For running out to the car to grab a needle just so I can take my insulin. For letting me choose restaurants so I can have a better choice. For asking "should you be eating that?" so that I think twice about what it. Thank you. I'm sure being with someone who has a disease isn't easy, but you make it look like it is.
Wow, I'm just now reading this. I love you and I'm thankful to be of assistance. This was three years ago and you're still going strong. I'm so proud of you. Keep pushing and sticking to your restrictions, for I believe you'll be rewarded in the future. We're weeks away from saying "I do", which means we'll be saying yes to all our flaws and strengths.
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