Black Out

I was laying in the backseat of my car, trying to keep the interior from spinning by counting all the little squares that make up my upholstery. I keep thinking, "Please make it stop, body really, this is no fun at all...man, this is a phenomenal waste of time."

This has happened more than once, but for different reasons. Once or twice, it was because I was drunk and close to blacking out, hoping that by counting and trying really hard to focus on everyone's conversations that I'll be just fine soon. More often, and as was the case this afternoon, it's caused by a low blood glucose reading. Much more frequent, and far less fun.

Even though there are around 3 million type 1 diabetics in America today, the disease's behavior isn't common knowledge, and I find myself frequently trying to explain what it's like to be diabetic. The most accurate description I have ever come up with is that being diabetic, and being sick with it, is like being drunk. The longer it goes on, the worse you feel and the harder it is to bounce back and feel right again.

Now, I may need to clarify a bit here: I can sense your reaction from here! I don't mean fun-drunk, like being out with your friends at a happy hour that just kept going, or like challenging yourself to walk a straight line in your stilettos without falling on your face (and laughing about it if you do). No, what I mean is that it's like being scary-drunk, when you're not sure how you got where you are and there's no one around who can tell you the how behind your why. With a very low blood glucose reading, the room spins, your vision comes and goes, and thoughts come more slowly; with a very high blood glucose reading, you're angry and irrational, making decisions you might not otherwise make, and you're so goddam thirsty! It's like you've been wrung dry of any hydration or reasonable thought.

The thing that really gets me, though, is all the wasted time. When you're blood glucose is out of whack, you're powerless, and there is nothing to do but wait for your body and your brain to return to a normally functioning state. Sleeping off a metabolic hangover, if you will. It might be the equivalent of pocket change in the big scheme of things: 15 minutes to bring up a low, three hours to bring down a high, but it's so much more than that. It's an afternoon gone, or calling in15 minutes late to work in the morning, or being too sick to do the things you need to do. It's complete blocks of lost time without any means of retrieval. It's recognition of my disease's control over my body and my mind. It's like being black-out drunk, this loss of control, uselessness, and wasted time. If I'm going to forfeit chunks of my life, I wish it was the result of a potentially fun mistake, rather than what it really is.