To say that I don't go into personal stuff here is pretty much untrue. "I" is such a featured word on this blog, but that's sort of unavoidable. It's probably more accurate to say that I don't reallywant to write about myself and what's going on in my life. On the other hand, this is important: I'm actively diabetic again.
Some of my readers never knew me while I was diabetic. I was diagnosed as a child, had no complications until after I turned 30, and then everything went to hell. Six years ago I received a simultaneous kidney-pancreas transplant. The kidney from that one didn't work out, but I still had the pancreas until about ten days ago, when it failed quickly and miserably.
Guess that explains why I've been sick and couldn't seem to get better. When the body has to fight an auto-immune disorder, and immunosuppressant drugs, that's hard; in concert, that's impossible.
Anyway, I'm working on it. As per usual, I have the support of an excellent medical team. The new guy, Dr. Adam Pearlman, who recently joined my nephrologist's group, has been amazing. Unlike a lot of MDs, he made an effort to get to know me a little bit. He introduced himself by his first name, and he made an effort to get me in to see one of the better endocrinologists in the DC area, who actually specializes in type 1 diabetes.
None of this has been easy on me. I'll go back on the transplant list to get a new pancreas, mostly so I can protect the second kidney, which used to belong to an incredible person. But also, if were to choose life as a diabetic, I'd be a ticking time bomb, vulnerable to all sorts of things. The lows, which come almost every day, terrify me more than anything. And the thing is, I've never been able to control them. I was always so scared of my blood sugar going too high that I deliberately kept it low. It would crash, and the bounceback caused nerve damage, which eventually caused nerve damage significant enough to destroy my kidneys and severely impair my eyesight.
I had a moment there, as I was flirting with a coma, in which I asked myself: you done yet? Ready to give up? Isn't it time to rest?
The answer to all those questions is no, still. I'm not sure why. Spinning one's wheels can be as wearying as actual movement, and I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop for quite a while now.
Point being, I might as well live.