Welcome to New York. Now, where’s T-swift and the welcoming committee? Oh well, I guess the smiling (lol) New Yorkers will have to do.
As the summer begins I find myself reflecting on the past few months. This year teemed with ups and downs, and all around lows and highs. Basically every two weeks I jetted off to another place, another adventure, location and new people. This time, I call New York City home for the next few months, until I begin my senior year of college (hides under blanket in denial).
After the highs of life abroad, the lows seem to hit quite hard these last few weeks. I’m not one for feelings or emotions (ok I have a ton but I don’t like talking about them–duh), but this last week proved one full of anger, resentment and overall sadness towards diabetes. I will admit, for the most part I am proud of the way I’ve dealt with such a prognosis. However, the fact that this disease does not have a cure keeps crawling into the edges of my mind, my happy days, my sad days–it’s always there. Who knew that the biggest constant in my life these days would be this frustrating, irritating, occasionally painful, uncomfortable, dangerous-yet-manageable, disease.
After one year, I can honestly say I am already sick of diabetes and all of its complications. I am sick of the (thankfully) small scars on my legs, stomach, arms, and hips. I am tired of changing my pumps, people’s stares and questioning looks if my pump shows. The occasional accidental bump into one of my pumps, causing a momentary panic on my part in wondering if anything fell off.
I am aware that things could be worse. However, I am learning that this train of thought does not do much to assuage my fears and pain–physical or emotional. I find myself feeling somewhat less for acknowledging my struggles with diabetes–something that researchers and doctors continue to make strides in every day. Not to mention, I am blessed with caring family, friends, and amazing doctors. I look back over the last year with diabetes and could not imagine changing anything. Ok, maybe I regret a cupcake here and there, but at least I know that I am still giving it my all. Even when I feel like the weight of the disease and my associated anxieties keeps pushing me down, I know that at the end of the day I’ll stand tall against whatever weighs down on me. I know this because that’s how my parents raised me, that’s the Goldman way.
Like they say, this too shall pass. But even in the saddest of moments, I find myself hopeful for the future, for a cure, or at least a less invasive way of managing the disease on an hourly basis.
In the wise words of my father and (later) Taylor Swift, I guess you just gotta shake it off.
So while I’m shaking (hopefully not because of low blood sugar) it off, I’ll continue to seek care until the cure.
Stay tuned for some New York posts!
Stay classy and cool peeps