{"id":19234,"date":"2011-08-29T04:21:11","date_gmt":"2011-08-29T08:21:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/asweetlife.org\/?p=19234"},"modified":"2015-12-27T15:45:12","modified_gmt":"2015-12-27T20:45:12","slug":"tales-of-ridicule-from-me-not-them","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/asweetlife.org\/?p=19234","title":{"rendered":"Tales of Ridicule–From Me Not “Them”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Who among us hasn’t been the brunt of sugar-related jokes? \u00a0I was at a dinner for work, for instance, and started talking about how excited I was for dessert. \u00a0The waiter must have overheard me because he brought out the hefty platter of tiramisu and set it before me. \u00a0My work friends, who really are sensitive and considerate friends, erupted into variations of, “Sure, give the dessert to the diabetic!” \u00a0I struggled with my initial reaction–mostly a heaping pile of, “C’mon, guys, be a little more creative.”–but decided to take a breath and smile along with the crowd. \u00a0They don’t mean it like that. \u00a0<\/em>\u00a0This is a work party; everyone is nervous. <\/em>\u00a0Being the means to an end for someone, though, no matter the intention, never feels good. \u00a0It causes me to judge that person as narrow-minded and ignorant and, mostly, unimaginative.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Besides, I really was<\/em> excited for dessert.<\/p>\n

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\"\"<\/a>
Give me, like, 50 units of Humalog and a glass of milk--I'll be good to go.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

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In settings such as these, I like to reflect on all the things I do that do not<\/em>\u00a0fit the stereotype of someone who has diabetes, then I try to bring those up in conversation immediately following the, “Get it? \u00a0Because she has diabetes<\/em>!!” moments. \u00a0(Let me add here that I’m not necessarily mad<\/em>\u00a0or even defensive<\/em>\u00a0in all these instances, but I do still feel a twinge of How dare you mock my genetically inherited medical condition that is more difficult to manage than you will ever understand?<\/em>\u00a0 Okay, so maybe I am a little defensive. \u00a0Regardless of the emotion, though, I feel a strong sense of duty to disprove whatever comment was made in order to instill a more positively framed association with diabetes.)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So I turned the conversation, ever so naturally, to the Lake Union 10K I ran last weekend as a fundraiser for an organization called Girls On The Run<\/a>. \u00a0I talked about what a beautiful day it was and how my friend and I got up around 5:30 A.M. in order to get to the lake on time. \u00a0Then I described how I was really worried to run “away” from the safety of my meter and low supplies that were safely locked in my car. \u00a0I rambled on about how sweaty my plastic bag of dried fruit and glucose tablets gets when it’s wedged between my waistband and my skin. \u00a0I casually mentioned that the run around the lake was a full 6.2 miles and that there were only two aid stations along the way if something unexpected happened. \u00a0And just<\/em>\u00a0when I had them remembering, “Oh, right; this is a serious condition that demands unending mental sharpness,” I moved onto majestic depictions of our glorious finish and how I almost puked from sprinting to the end. \u00a0“Wait. \u00a0So, it was hard, and even dangerous, but she completed the race and feels good about it… so this must mean she is a strong person! \u00a0She must be as strong as I am! \u00a0Maybe even stronger! \u00a0Maybe having diabetes doesn’t keep her from doing difficult tasks, but she has to spend a lot of time and energy preparing for every step of the way!” \u00a0(Just slowing it down for those of you who needed a how-to on the whole positive association thing.)<\/p>\n

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\"\"<\/a>
6.2 ain't nothin'. Right? Right?!<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

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It’s not like I go home and replay these conversations with a voodoo doll in hand or anything, but I’d be lying if I said I could easily let go of these kind of comments and not let them get to me. \u00a0I attribute this to the fact that I have only lived with these conversations for 18 months, but also to my lifelong passion for encouraging (ahem, insisting upon<\/em>) language that shows respect for the people it describes. \u00a0I’m not obsessed with being Politically Correct–a term which, I believe, is a cop-out anyway–and I have a whole other set of\u00a0double-standardized\u00a0rules for vocabulary when speaking with fellow Type Ones, but I know that language is primarily how we communicate in this society. \u00a0If language is what guides us, I prefer that it at least somewhat accurately portray the people it is guiding. \u00a0Bottom line: \u00a0don’t put me in no box, man.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Karmel<\/a> recently brought to my attention a certain athlete<\/a> who has Type I and is a climber. \u00a0Reading about his plan for 2012 made my heart swell with pride and gave me another role model for my how-do-I-do-this phases. \u00a0It’s not about setting out with anger to laugh in the world’s face (at least, not for me), but it is about educating those around us who may not understand diabetes at all. \u00a0It’s about understanding each other, regardless of health condition or lack thereof, with the fundamental hope that people liking each other is probably better than people being mean to each other.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Call it karma, call it the Golden Rule, call it good manners: \u00a0let’s have more of it. \u00a0This goes for me, too.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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