* * * * *
I want a Diabetic Superhero. And I want to call her Betey. (Pronounced like "Betty".)
No guilt, no frustration, no sadness. No unexplained rollercoaster, no worry over complications, no mental struggles. Just a whole bunch of compassion, strength, and ass-kicking ability.
Some superheroes have a utility belt with a grappling gun, stun grenades, and smoke pellets; Betey's belt would have glucose tabs, a glucagon kit, and an insulin pen. And probably a Diet Coke. And maybe some throwing stars made out of lancets.
Her outfit would be blue, of course. Boots of steel, to protect her feet. Betey's insulin pump would double as a flamethrower. Instead of a regular bow and arrow, she would have a really, really huge crossbow, and over-sized CGM sensor needles for arrows. (The mere thought of that setup actually existing would deter me from crime all-together. Terrifying.)
But most of all, she'd be invincible. Her strengths would be a direct result of her weaknesses. Each encounter with a low blood sugar would make her fear them less and less. Challenge and adversity would lay the way for motivation and determination. Pump sites wouldn't dare clog up, for fear of what she'd do to them in return. And with every person she helped, Betey would grow more and more confident.
I try to be more and more Betey-like every day. I try to learn from my mistakes, and not let the daily challenges of diabetes get me down. Some days are harder than others. When do I get my darn cape?
No comments:
Post a Comment