Dear Pancreas:

Contrary to popular belief, I have not been destroyed by your minions. This battle isn't over yet.


Sunday, November 27, 2011

When I'm sitting down to eat...

I am not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.  I have had Type 1 for over 15 years and I have had my share of food police and then some.

Well, the other day I sat down to some turkey soup.  It really didn't have that much turkey for protein, so I picked some ham out of the freezer and thawed it to increase my protein.  I also set down my food scale to weigh my items.  And it quite literally went like this:

"What's that?"

"A food scale." 

"Why are you using it?" 

"To weigh my food." 

"Have you done this for a while?"

"It's fairly recent." 

"Where'd you get the ham?"

"The freezer."

"Why did you get the ham?" 

"To add protein to my food." 

"Are you on some kind of diet?"


"Then why would you eat more meat? ...educate me."

At this point, I gave him the "death stare," as in-- ask me one more question about my food and I will kill you with my laser beam eyes.

Things like this make me utterly pissed off because of the loaded guilt and feeling of being scrutinized for every God damned food choice you make.  It's a feeling that I'm sure most diabetics have experienced in their life--  and it's not a one-time deal.  

I almost feel like making a stop sign to have at the dinner table:  "Diabetic Police Banned" or "Mind your own food."

I don't mind answering questions about diabetes and food choices, but I do mind when I'm trying to enjoy dinner--- give me a break.  I think about diabetes 24/7.  I deserve to have a moment of peace after I've counted my exchanges and weighed my food.

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