Here's something you might not know about me, and that might be simply because you don't care or because you've missed me dramatically going on about it when I'm drunk, but I am a type 1 diabetic. Phew, it felt good to get that off my chest. (It didn't. It's obvious. This kinda skinny ain't natural, you know?) I don't normally bring this subject up in sober conversations because, let's face it, it's not a brilliant ice breaker. "Hey guys, I have to pay close attention to the sugar to carbohydrates ratio in most items of food!" has never got a party started in the way I might have hoped, so it tends to remain a topic saved only for medical institutions or when someone brings me a cup of tea with sugar in it and I threaten to tell the police that they tried to kill me.
However recently I've felt inclined to talk about it more because, I feel, the condition has gained a bit of an unfairly bad reputation. There are some myths that I want to dispel and obviously this blog, read by only a handful of people with little better to do, is the ideal place for me to do that. Har har.
1. ONLY FAT PEOPLE ARE DIABETIC.
Erm, no. The first sign that this is a load of bollocks should be when I say "I am a diabetic." Do I look like a fat person? Nah, I'm in prime physical condition, bitches, owner of many a pair of skinny jeans that would barely cover one leg of some other people. What you're thinking of is Type 2 diabetes, or as I like to call it, 'Their own fault.' This happens when you have a poor diet, drink too much or, in some cases, get pregnant. I'm not ever going to be pregnant and I think the technical term is 'skinny as 'owt.'
2. DIABETICS CAN EAT ALL THE SWEETS THEY WANT.
Oh how I wish this one was true. In the past six years since I've been diagnosed I can probably count on my hands how many times I've eaten something sweet and that's only been as a matter of a medical emergency. I'll tell you what would happen if I ate sweets often: I'd die. Yeah, that's right, I'd die. I wouldn't just get a bit podgy and ruin my beach body; my internal organs would stop working, my legs would fall off and I'd end up in a coma that I probably wouldn't come out of. And yeah, while that would ruin my beach body, it's not really the most important part of the issue.
3. YOU CAN GO INTO SHOPS AND GET FREE CHOCOLATE.
"So, Ash, if your blood sugar got low you could just go into a shop and tell them you were feeling ill and they'd HAVE to give you chocolate?" Well, yeah, that kinda does happen... but while you might see that as a good thing I see it as a sign that I'm really pretty ill and might be about to pass out. If I ever tell you I need sugar then FREAK OUT, PANIC, GO NUTS, or just give me a biscuit, whatever, but don't think it's an easy way for me to get free stuff. I mean, did you not just read point 2? Imagine how quickly I'd die if all the sweets I got cost me nothing!
4. DIABETIC PRODUCTS EXIST THOUGH SO WHAT'S THE PROBLEM?
True, there are many diabetic products out there. You can get diabetic chocolate and diabetic fudge and diabetic sweets and eating them won't harm your blood sugar levels at all, but do you know what it will do? It will give you a horrible case of the shits. Yeah, that's right, you'll be shitting all over and you won't be able to stop until your body is done. Is that a risk worth taking so you can have some chocolate that costs more money and tastes a little bit worse than regular stuff? No. I'd rather go without.
5. YOU GET TIME OFF WORK IF YOU'RE ILL.
Well yeah, but do does everyone if it's genuine. I'd rather never be ill and work all of the time and if I ever do feel too ill to go in I'll probably lie to myself and do it anyway just to show my bloody useless pancreas who's boss. I've only ever had one day off due to diabetes and even then I worked from home. Getting time off is rubbish when you actually do feel like crap.
6. BUT INJECTIONS ARE FUN!
No-one ever says this one, but they're not, honestly. It might not be as serious a condition as, let's say, cancer, but it is something that will stay with you forever. It's incurable. When you're diagnosed the nurse says, "It's not something we can fix, but we can manage it!" as if that's great news that you should be happy about. What it really means is a lifetime of waking up at night feeling desperate for food, not being able to drink too much wine, having to embarrass your friends when you're out for dinner by getting a needle out in front of them and putting up with people thinking you're secretly obese.
I'm genuinely not obese. This physique takes absolutely no work though, so that's nice.
