Tails, diabetic
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Health Sectors refuse to even acknowledge our real physical and day-to-day burden;

failing entirely to address a diabetic’s tireless aftermath of symptoms and complications. They practice instead a rudimentary knowledge of mock diabetes, the simple to conceptualise though difficult to maintain principle of normalising (not even a real word) blood sugar levels between numerals four and eight: instigated by administering more and more insulin on instruction of the Pharmaceutical Industry (moo) under the false impression that this harmless hormone has side effects overcome simply by having more sugar. Pushing all responsibility back into the hands of the hapless diabetic to avoid the consequence of having a dry mouth or feeling a touch tired (bore) etc., before delving effortlessly into the black revelation, ‘Your kidneys will fail, your feet will go black and complete loss of sight awaits... if you are not a good boy.’

As for our state of mind and emotional wellbeing, complications, relationships and long-term future: less obvious to the outside world of course but of equal importance for us, forget it! Don’t even bother, the Diabetes Industry does not wish to contemplate (our pish) an obligatory responsibility for even one moment, ‘Buy a Diet-Coke, read a diet book and just get on with it,’ don’t go rocking the cash cow business model by mixing up real world expectation for expensive scientific observation with financial models stretching out higher and higher into years ahead. They don’t want resulting mental anguish (more of our pish) hurting business, interrupting a main stream of income, when sticking to the easy to theorise assumptions of, ‘Tired and grouchy but nothing too serious,’ proves so efficient. Until that is, the day you fall angrily down a manhole like a mad Pirate, and then they say, 'Oh, it must have been the high sugars not normalising really getting him down.'

Out of sight out of mind; altogether it’s the equivalent of everyone you so desperately need to know putting their fingers in their ears and shouting, ‘I CAN'T HEAR YOU, I CAN'T HEAR YOU.’

The problem is that they see diabetes only as a disease, not as the state-of-being it has become for the diabetic. They study a life with diabetes, but it's not my life. They don’t cover panic attacks as my blood sugar spirals out of control for reasons unknown; or the frustration, upset and pointlessness I feel when I can’t figure out why, taking my confidence levels from that of a thirty-two year old man and reducing them to those of a frail seventy year old in a matter of minutes. They don’t relate to my inability to concentrate at points throughout the day as blood sugar levels fluctuate and no one wants to know about the, ‘FUCK. FOR FUCK SAKE, FUCK,’ like anger I feel when my sugar is high. This leaves me feeling like a complete bastard when it all comes crashing back down.





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Nor do they acknowledge the disparity that pregnant women are expected to go positively nuts due to hormonal imbalance, to the point where in England they are unlikely even to be arrested for shoplifting and they have the right to urinate anywhere; including some say the inside of a Policeman’s helmet! – Yet we who are injecting ourselves with synthetic-foreign hormones all day everyday are supposed to hold it together – and not even have an ugly day.

I ask myself, how are we to cut past poor decision; let down and left off balance as the ones we depend upon have given way to ignorance: accepting their role of Sales Team for an industry as our suitable health-care solution? Therein lies the state of the Diabetes Industry, shackled to the state of our condition and the purpose of this book.

This book is not about diabetes the disease of medical definition; this book is about diabetics. The flip side of the coin; an open memoir, a written sketchpad of my life without faceless diagrams or conditions, serving to honestly assess this state-of-being we all share in its highs and lows: the soul of this disease, the textures leading up to the cause of, and living. Offering you on the way a chance to say, ‘I know just what you mean. I know exactly how that feels, and Oh Jesus I won’t be drinking that!’ whilst I recap to find and learn how to fix myself.

As much as this world thinks it knows about diabetes, I find it can often be a very difficult and lonely place, and to my comprehension the only way we’re ever going to get through this is with rightful understanding based upon shared experience. Only then can we accept a just responsibility toward our health. We should not be willing participants in any Diabetes Industry settling for second best. That’s not the diabetic I am willing to be. I’ve waited around for seventeen years already, a lifetime when you consider it was all entirely avoidable in the first place.

Before I go, I know we have access to a thousand more websites and forums offering up group support and enabling us to share our thoughts, but who wants to bicker about how much sugar is really in a banana or start a bun fight to determine which blood sugar test monitor is the best? Don’t we all just want to have a healthy, uncomplicated and great life with plenty of room for big nights out and not having to stop half way through a shag for a Mars Bar!






square point Preface
square point Heads, diabetes
square point Tails, diabetic
square point Succumbing to the D
square point How did this happen?
square point Dating, late 20's
square point Love
square point The talk, human resource
square point The three bears
square point Sugar levels ill, sugar levels well




Blood sugar test strips. Rightful understanding just responsibility.  
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