Guest Blogger: Tim McClintock
Last week, I posted an open invitation for anyone who might be interested in guest blogging while I travel this summer. Much to my delight, I got way more responses than I expected! I have a couple of posts queued already, and hopefully, more will be filling my in-box
Tim McClintock of Be Encouraged! kindly offered to write a post about emotions - and as we all know, there are plenty of those that come with diabetes! Tim started blogging fairly recently, so if you haven’t seen his blog, check it out. Maybe I’m not catching the right blogs, but it’s seemed to me that there are fewer male D-bloggers than females, so it’s been cool to see a few more guys join the D-blogosphere recently. Time is also an active D-twitterer so be sure to follow him if you’re on twitter.
‘betes sucks. The DOC does not. Just sayin’.
What is it about the big D. that gives it the ability to play with our emotions so well? Recently, I found myself in a situation, which gave me an opportunity to help a very close friend of mine. Within a 24-hour period, I found myself going from feeling elated, grateful, and awestruck to feeling like a complete and utter failure. I felt all the former things from simply having been given an opportunity to try and help, and then felt even more of the same after finding a way to actually make it happen. All of my BG tests during this timeframe were pretty much in what I would consider a normal range for me, which would be anywhere from 100 to 150.
On the other hand, about three hours ago, I came home after having run some errands. I exercised for a short while, and then took a restroom break. My brain must’ve been in slow motion, because it seemed like it took a long time to register that the thing hanging down by my foot was the obviously less than durable medical device formally attached to my thigh. I immediately reached for my meter, did a quick test, and upon seeing a most less than awesome 320,000 (it might just as well have been, from the way it made me feel), [okay it was more like 320] I immediately began to feel a rage welling up inside. For those of you that know me even a little bit, you know that this is not normal Tim territory. I tend to stay fairly even most of the time. “cha mon man! Not now!” All I knew was that I didn’t want to deal with this at that particular moment (can you say NEVER!?!?), nor did I want to have any memory of it later. Where’s my brain bleach anyway?
What is it about the big D. that gives it the ability to mess with my mind so easily, especially when I am high or experiencing a low? And the larger question for me is, knowing that it can and does mess with me if I let it, what can I do about that? I may never know the answer to the first question, and I’m okay with that. As to what I can do, and what I often end up doing, is sharing those emotions and feelings with people I care about, people that care about me, and people that understand because they have been there. Some of those people are in my family. They love me, and I love them. They care about me. I care about them. It works. I tell them how I feel, physically, mentally, and diabetically (btw, if I just made up a word, I SO own it, but hereby officially give it to the DOC) but the ability of my family to completely and totally understand is a bit limited, because try as they might, which they do, they haven’t been inside of my head, my body, my emotions, etc.
So in addition to my family, it is usually during these times that I am drawn to run to the DOC. Sometimes I post, but often during these times of highs or lows I simply read some of the twitter posts or a blog without commenting. I will sometimes withhold comment simply out of fear that what will come out will not be interpreted as I meant it because of what the high or the low is doing to me. Other times I withhold comment because I know that it WILL be interpreted exactly as I meant it, and because of the altered state my brain is in during those moments what I might say and even think is 180° the opposite of what I would ever say or even think when my numbers are in the normal range. The point here is that simply being around those that I know will understand helps. Because they’ve been there. Because they are there. And until the day the cure comes for all of us, unfortunately we will all continue to be there. But the absolutely cool thing is we are all there.
Together. Listening. Learning. Challenging and encouraging each other. Leaning on each other. Standing back-to-back, swords drawn, ready to slay the lame poser of a sucky dragon called diabetes. How cool is that? Not only is it wicked sweet, it’s approaching dope/badass territory. Just sayin’. And oh yeah, thanks DOC. I owe you big. And just know, when and if you need, I got your six. citas: mamacitas
Thanks so much for the blog post, Tim - and thanks for expressing a sentiment that I think most of us feel.


























