Clean it out Wednesday

This is the third blog of the seven blog series in #DBLOG week. I hope you are writing or following along. We have some terrific blogs going all over the internet. At the bottom is a link to all the posted blogs (so far) for today. I hope you will check it out or it’s not too late blog along.

What is in your diabetic closet that must be cleaned out?

I need to clean out my ill feelings about this dam disease. Ok that might be a little dramatic. But not really. I have lots of things to be thankful for and I try to express those thanks whenever and however I can. Unfortunately, I have negative energy built up and I will be darn if like a dam those feelings don’t break out every once in a while. They are usually like a self-pity party of one with a nice side dish of fear and self-loathing. You have to love it when I get angry at Diabetes, because when I do I throw much of my diacrap junk on the pile and try to burn the house down with a flame thrower. Trouble is I live in that house and when it collapses it collapses on me. Duh.

Clearing stuff out

So what manner of negative energy? Well let’s start with peanut buster parfaits. I want one. I mean I really want one. I want one so badly that I have made my daughter in law promise (she is the idealistic one in the bunch) to stuff my tubes full of the peanut butter parfait on my death bed. Yeah take that diabetes, I have someone ready to unscrew the cap and stick whole peanuts and hot fudge in them. Talk about gumming up the works?

Then let’s take apple juice. I hate it. I recently resorted, now hold on here it is a big shift (drum roll please ….) to apple sauce for lows. Oh yeah, take that diabetes. Yeah now we have the big guns firing. I like the exquisitely combined taste of the apples in Musselmans apple sauce. Yeah you go for it diabetes, tell me I need apple juice. Pfft, I am using apple sauce now. I no longer am a slave to those dumb boxes and stupid straws, I am my own man. Diabetes will not tell me what to do with my life.

Hey how about those dumb alarms, yeah I will ignore all the false ones from now on. Yeah that pump will not run my life, I will show it who is boss. I am the boss, my pump constantly telling me fill this, change that, check, adjust, test, empty I am so over those alarms I might even silence them. Yeah get rid of the negative energy I apply toward pump alarms just put the thing on silence, that will show diabetes who is boss.

Then carrying stuff around. I refuse to carry any stuff around anymore. I feel like I am loaded up like a pack mule just to cross the street. Here get your meter, carry that dam buzzing pump, tote your apple juice or is it sauce, get glucose tabs (watermelon and raspberry) get an injection carry your insulin, ahh the list goes on and on. Yeah well I am not doing it any more. Take that diabetes, I am not dealing with the diacrap I have to carry around anymore. None of it. Not one dam bit .

But Wait !!!!!

Ahh yeah,, hum much like the NFL I need to stop every once in a while and do a video review of what I just said. See here is the thing. I am not giving up any of that stuff. I hate carrying diacrap, I dislike apple juice a lot, glucose tabs do not take up much room and truthfully pump alarms are necessary (all right false low alarms serve no one’s interest especially not mine) so maybe I need to clean out the negative energy I have about these things. I need to stop beating myself over what I am. I have plenty of negative energy to go around and around. I do not require more negativity for my backpack.

But, and this is a big but, someone better get me a peanut butter parfait before I draw my last breath. I swore to myself when those things were introduced I would have one on the day my diabetes was cured, but not until it is cured. Cure is a relative term here. See what I meant was I will not have one until my diabetes no longer requires me to manually put in insulin and the consequences of having one are no more than the average old guy walking around. Sounds like I am hedging right? Well I am hedging. I have constructed a perfect scenario for stuffing any tubes with peanuts and hot fudge. Yes I know I can go have one if I want it, sure it will make me ill, but I can have one. Nope, will not happen, I want one in a time and place I will not feel worse for the wear and I do not have to worry about my blood sugar. See the daughter in law solution is the best stop gap for leaving the world with one of these beautiful sundaes on my terms. It will be my final go to hell message for diabetes. Take that diabetes and pass the peanut butter parfait, I am reserving one final shot across the bow.

Clean it out Wednesday posts from around the DOC

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