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Diabetes Blog Week ::: Letter Writing Day

Dear diabetes:

You don't deserve a capital "D" in front of your name because you aren't a thing, you are a fetid disease in my mind. I know you didn't want to be my partner, and neither did I. It's a funny... erm.. Okay not so funny story of how we met. You probably don't remember the specific details of how we came together because it was a series of events before you were born. I was gallivanting with my friends rock climbing and camping up north. I was totally and completely minding my own business in fact I was living my life to the fullest. I had a run-in with some unforgiving poison ivy. THEN I had a run-in with an ass of a walk-in clinic doctor. I still curse myself for listening to him. I started a heavy course of steroids to counter-act the inflamed and still spreading rash up my legs and onto my belly. It wasn't long then before we crossed paths. We didn't know it but you and I were fated to be one. I'm not sure if you remember those first couple days. When I went to bed one day and woke up the next with a completely failing pancreas and you were laying next to me. You hung on for dear life threatening to drag me down with you for those 2 LONG months without the help of insulin. Again, because of the result of another asshole of a doctor that deserves to have his face kicked in. It was those two months we almost died together. Like some sick twisted love story. I don't know about you, but I never really loved you. It's harsh, but it's true dude. Suck it up.

I don't think we will ever became close friends and BFF's are completely out of the question so you might as well stop getting all up in my business. We are more just gun slingers living in the same house. We stay out of each other's way for the most part but I really hate it when we fight. It's a small space, I know, so it's hard not to bump elbows. You have this knack for making me feel pea sized. Like my feelings never matter, EVER! When we fight I can hear the old western movie music in my head sometimes. You standing on one side and me on the other with our hands hovering over our guns. Whose going to pull first and shoot? I never know and inevitably we always end up letting down our guard and moving back to just staying out of each other's sight again.

I really can't stand the sight of you though. You make me sick to my stomach with a heart full of guilt most of the time. I just wish sometimes you would pat me on the back or at least give me a hug dammit. You really suck the life out of me. I work so hard to support you and it's not like you ever thank me. I never ask for anything in return except for recognition of all my hard work.

The only good that has come of our dysfunctional mucked up relationship is how I found the DOC. You are such a pain in the ass that I was forced to get help elsewhere. Remember when we tried counselling? Yeah, I know that didn't work for me either. The DOC is the first place I've found where I can throw you against a wall and beat you into submission. You seemed to have found a lot of friends here which gives me a break from your incessant babble from time to time. I couldn't believe how many more assholes just like you are out there!

So, although neither of us want this relationship, we do have one thing in common. We have one reason to continue to not try to shoot each other. That reason is ME. And I have a lot planned in my life. Too much for you to take it away from me. We're like a divorced couple with a child that both of us have responsibilities toward.

So suck-it up and play nice every once in a while. You might be surprised at how well we could get along.

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