I know that this disease is not the worst thing in the world. A friend whom I've known since I was a freshman in high school is battling breast cancer, for God's sake. And type 1 diabetics have a much harder time of it than I do. But it sucks nonetheless. When I'm being "good" I check my blood sugar 3 times a day (or I might just have a period of denial or apathy that lasts for weeks when I don't check at all). I have to think about the carbs in every meal. I have to remember to eat even when I feel sick to my stomach. I have to resist feeling deprived when everyone is having some sinful, delicious dessert. I have to keep in mind, that even though this disease is not going to kill me right away, if I don't stay on top of it, the constant increased blood glucose levels will damage the tiny blood vessels in my eyes leading to increased risk for blindness, in my kidneys leading to increased risk of kidney failure, and in my extremities leading to increased risk of amputation. My DH helpfully suggests that I close my eyes, hop on one foot, and imagine myself on dialysis whenever I want to ignore the fact that I have this disease. I guess increased risk of heart attack and stroke are also worth paying attention to.
I got a "welcome" kit in the mail today from the manufacturer of my newest medication. It's an injectable (not insulin) drug and the company sent the kit with some info and a carrying case for the injection pen. It's nice, of course, to have all the information available. And to have "stuff" to help you deal with everyday issues of a chronic disease. But today it feels more like a "welcome to my nightmare" kit than a "welcome" kit.
And when I'm feeling sorry for myself, like today, I really miss my dad. He had diabetes for 40 something years. When I was pregnant he gave me pep-talks and pointers on insulin injections and reminded me that it wasn't that bad after all. He didn't let diabetes keep him from flying airplanes or winning a road race in his 1990 corvette ZR1. (or spending my inheritance in the process!) I guess I can get up off this couch and finish folding the laundry. Besides, my DS's last t-ball game is today. I can't let a little nausea keep me from that.