"Those people."

Since I’ve started school I’ve learned a lot about myself. 

I’ve learned that I’m kinda’ anal about things.  I get used to things a certain way, and I want them to stay that way forever.  I like routine.  I like knowing the facts.  I like numbers and the way that they have an absolute answer.  I don’t like flowery speech, and definitions that are open ended.  I like being successful.  I expect a lot out of myself.

Someone called me a nerd last week.  The word actually hung on me pretty well, so I’m going to keep it.

And so it has also been with Diabetes for lo these many years.  I’ve been an over achiever.  My boys A1C’s were da bomb.  I had a schedule.  I had high expectations for the boys and myself. I worked my tail off to be an over achiever, and reveled basking in the glow of it all.  Even if it was at my own detriment, it didn’t matter.  Success takes sacrifice, especially when our children are involved.

I have worked hard, and the ones that don’t or haven't?  Well “those people” don’t try hard enough.  Or “those people” are over scheduled.  Or “those people” need to prioritize. 

It’s easy to say, or to feel, or to think, until you actually become one of “those people.”

Today I’ve officially become one of them. 

Solidarity my “those people” brothers and sisters.

This afternoon I sat in the Endocrinologist’s office knowing what was coming, but firm in the knowledge that I couldn’t do more.  I knew that the boys were doing their best.  I knew that letting them fly these past couple months was going to have ramifications.  I also knew I'd done my best, and that was all I could do.

As I listened to the words come out of the doctor’s mouth, it all felt so surreal, like I was floating above watching her in someone else’s session. 

Missed boluses.

70% basal, 30% bolus ratio.

Set changes going 4 or 5 days.

What?

Surely she wasn’t talking to us! I almost glanced over my shoulder to see whom the hell she WAS talking to, but I stopped myself because there was a wall behind me, and denial and delusion are two different things…

And just like that, I accepted my denial; picked it up with both hands, cuddled with it for a moment and then epiphanized (I just made up that word)…we are “those people.”

Overscheduled.

Doing the best with what we have.

Prioritizing things over diabetes.

Not (gasp) perfect.

Turns out that “those people” are doing the best with what they have.

Turns out that “those people” have the best of intentions.

Turns out that “those people” just need to focus on keeping their head above water.  Everything else is just semantics sometimes.

Diabetes has been the crux of my existence for 16 years, and now that I’ve handed the boys the baton I have to own up to what that really means.

It means letting them make mistakes.  (After, helping them learn from those mistakes…but allowing them mess up nonetheless.)

And you know what?  I thought it would be harder than it is.

I thought I would feel guiltier than I do.

Instead I’m just full of pride.  (Ok, there is some guilt, I’ll own that, ) but they are rockstars even if they aren’t perfect.  I’ve always said you can’t do better than your best…I’ve talked the talk, now I have to walk the walk.  They are capable.  They are wonderful.  They are learning.

I’ll help them problem solve, and I’ll support them in any form that support needs to be…but the thing is, they walked into the appointment today knowing what they did and what they didn’t do.  They are smart.  I’m kinda’ smart too…sometimes.

We’ll figure it out together.

Today wasn’t perfect.  It was messier than I’m used to, but it wasn’t a disaster. 

These past couple years we’ve become professionals feeling our way around dark places.  I think now that we have some light shed on the problems, we’ll find ways to fix them.

That will take time.  In the past I wouldn’t allow that.  In the past things need to be fixed now, over time was for losers.

But now that we’re “those people?”  We’re going to follow our peoples lead and just keep doing our best.

Now, and over time.