This past week, I started tentatively working on a book about diabetes. I have read a few books written by diabetics. None of us like the disease. All of us agree that the disease defines us. But most of us see the disease as “the enemy”.
Kevin Kelly, in his superb book “What Technology Wants” talks about “events”. I am just such an event. So are you. For a very short time in the history of the universe, some atoms coalesce to form Peter Carruthers. Not only that, but every seven years or so, all those atoms move on to new “events”, most of which are much more exciting than I am, like trees, penguins, and the carbon-fibre casing of a ‘new’ iPad.
The miracle, I think, is that most of us function so well. Most of us start at the front of the queue, genetically speaking. I am not one such person.
The disease is very frustrating. Just when you think the day is going splendidly, your chemical balance doesn’t, and you start stuttering or trying to open the front door with the ignition key of the car. (Or in my most famous family case, taking a leak into the dustbin in my study. I guess that’s not unusual for some men, but mine was a wireframe basket.)
So, yes, that doesn’t add too much joy to the average day. Most diabetics will devote at least 30 min each day just to the task of staying alive. Heck, that’s more time than most people spend washing. (I know a few people who spend a lot less time
As I see it, however, I am astoundingly lucky. If I had been born in 1908, instead of 1958, then I wouldn’t be sitting at my office in Norway. I would be at one with the universe, so to sepak.
I would have been diagnosed at the same age, and I would have followed the same treatment that most diabetics received early in the 20th century: slow starvation until death.
Imagine reaching into the engine of your new car and randomly pulling out a few wires. Chances are that the car is going to behace erratically in future. Much the same applies to us diabetics.
After 20 years or so of manually balancing our blood sugar levels, and screwing it up far more often than not, it’s no surprise that our atoms begin to dissemble. The things that go wrong are related to small blood vessels – blindness, kidneys, and the tips of fingers and toes.
Blindness, dialysis, and gradual amputations – well – they’re not much fun. On balance, however, I would rather have a pretty full life and face a few challenges at the end than have my life start 6 feet underground. Life is wonderful, and I wouldn’t want mine any other way.
Diabetes is no more my enemy than my left foot is.
(I was diagnosed a type I diabetic in 1971. 2011 is my 40th year as a diabetic.)