Today’s guest blogger, Laura Bultman, is a member of ACT1’s support groups.
A while back, someone said to me that the things we are most ashamed of are the things beyond our control. And though we all nodded sagely at the time, I’m starting to rethink this philosophy. or, maybe, I’m rethinking the passivity it implies.
Let me explain. When I was 10 years old (and still diabetes free!), I went to camp for a week. Before we left, one of the camper’s mothers took the counselor aside and whispered with her for fifteen minutes. After that, we noticed that her daughter was allowed to do all sorts of things we weren’t – sit out on certain activities, get snacks not during snack time…. I don’t remember if we ostracized her, but I do know that we all thought she was dying and were all super-uncomfortable around her.
WhenIi was fifteen, I transferred to a new school. one of the other students was late coming back from vacation and all I heard for the week before he got there was how hot he was, how nice he was, how hot he was, how smart he was, how freaking hot he was (you get the idea). When he finally came to school, I noticed something that no one had mentioned: he only had one leg because he had lost the other to chemo. Yet he never sat out of any activities (he was a killer soccer player because with two crutches and a leg he effectively had three legs) – including a class trip where we climbed up a volcano.
I guess this is what I’m trying to say: people are ashamed of what you tell them is shameful. If that girl had simply told us she was diabetic, we would all have gotten over it and moved on to be her friends. That boy lived his life so that no one even thought to mention the crutches (and believe me, they talked enough about him that it would have come up).
There are certainly times when I can’t control my diabetes, but I refuse to be ashamed of it. I refuse to be described as “my diabetic friend laura”. In fact, I hope that people will forget to mention it. I will not sit back and let my disease define me or keep me from living my life or make me ashamed.
It comes down to this: I may not always control it, but it sure as hell ain’t gonna control me.
and, p.s., the guy really was super hot.
Laura, great post! Shame is definitely something that a lot of PWDs struggle with. I definitely did! Especially for all the years that I was the only diabetic I knew. It’s only been recent that I have gotten over the embarrassment and talk about it opennly.
PS: Did you date the hot guy???
Great post! I had a similar experience while coaching softball. Over the years, I’ve had several team members with diabetes, asthma, even one with a shunt in her scalp, etc. They all participated just fine, the other team members never thought about it unless they saw obvious symptoms and as soon as that had passed, they’d all be up, screaming, running, cheering again.
Then one year we recruited a player who’s mother continually reminded us that she was asthmatic and we shouldn’t push her so hard. She constantly stood at the back of the dugout asking her if she was ok, are you breathing ok, do you need your inhaler.
Needless to say, that player wasn’t on the team very long. She found it very difficult to feel part of the team and to “keep up” even though, sadly, she absolutely could’ve been very competitive if her mom had just sat with the other parents and left her alone. I’m a former nurse, we had a Dr. sitting in the stands with the parents, we all knew what to look for, how to treat it, when to call for help. Yet, this poor girl never reached her potential.
I refuse to let diabetes keep me from doing ANYTHING. How sad to get to the end of your days and say, ‘I always wished I’d. . .’ You’re fortunate to have had such a great inspiration in your life early on. You probably think of that ‘hot’ guy more often than you know. . and not because of his ‘hotness’ but for his courage, attitude and strength. Thanks for sharing!