Tell us what your Fantasy Diabetes Device would be. Think of your dream blood glucose checker, delivery system for insulin or other meds, magic carb counter, etc etc etc. The sky is the limit – what would you love to see?
This is a hard one. A really hard one, because my first, second and third inclination is to answer the Fantasy Device question with one answer: a normally functioning pancreas. How glorious that would be!
But “pancreas” is the obvious (and best) answer. And if I can’t have the shiny new insulin-producing organ I want, I can at least have some fun and flexibility with my diabetic life, can’t I? That’s where my imaginary device comes in: It’s as yet unnamed, but I have filed for several patents, and marketing focus groups are well underway.
Like the CGM, it’s an addition to the whole pump system I’ve got connected to my person, but it works more like a remote. My fantasy device allows me to bestow my diabetes on other people for abbreviated periods of time.
I’ve heard my loving mother and generous husband say it over and over again: “If I could take this disease on for you, I would.” I appreciate the sentiment, and I love them both so much for saying it, but I don’t know if I’d feel right giving them all the diabetes forever. I would, however, feel comfortable letting one of them borrow it for a weekend.
They’d be responsible for the blood sugar control (or lack thereof), suffer the temporary consequences, count the carbs, inject the insulin, do the fingerstabs. And I’d spend the weekend sleeping and running and dancing around and eating and drinking and being productive. Then I’d take the diabetes back. It is my nasty little pet, after all.
Think of the temporary freedom! The empathy and understanding the device could foster. The fights, too: “I don’t want to take your diabetes next weekend! I did it last month!”
The most satisfying part, though, would be sharing diabetes with strangers. The next time someone made an idiotic comment about “diabetic folks who just don’t take care of themselves,” I could let them borrow mine for an afternoon — just so they can see how easy it is!
And if I ever again, God forbid, find myself stuck in a conversation with someone who’s all excited about their voluntarily carb-free, gluten-free, low-calorie, paleo raw diet of food items that begin with the letter S, I can give them my diabetes for a while. “Here,” I’ll say, “Sounds like you need a real problem to focus on!”
As soon as they started to whine too pitifully, I’d take my diabetes back. Everyone has their Stupid Life Thing they have to deal with, and for now, this is mine. I’m sure that just knowing I can give my diabetes away for an hour or a day would make the really tough days a little easier. Right?