When I was first diagnosed with diabetes, my diabetes nurse educator, in the process of throwing a thousand seemingly unrelated bits of information at my cowering psyche, said brightly at one point, "But, then, always remember: YDMV!"
"YDMV?" I repeated, lost.
"Yes. Your diabetes may vary!"
"My diabetes?" my brain said in a crabby voice. (I most certainly had not claimed this condition as "mine" yet.) But she continued, as if we were just two buddies chatting about our plans for the weekend.
"Each body is different. What works for one person may not work for another. Even medication may affect different people differently."
"Oh, great," I thought, feeling like a new kid in town walking up the steps to a middle school full of students I'd never seen before. What if I couldn't find my classes? What if the other students didn't like me? What if the teachers thought I was stupid? I was trying to pay attention, but there was so much to learn and now this: "Your diabetes may vary."
"YDMV?" I repeated, lost.
"Yes. Your diabetes may vary!"
"My diabetes?" my brain said in a crabby voice. (I most certainly had not claimed this condition as "mine" yet.) But she continued, as if we were just two buddies chatting about our plans for the weekend.
"Each body is different. What works for one person may not work for another. Even medication may affect different people differently."
"Oh, great," I thought, feeling like a new kid in town walking up the steps to a middle school full of students I'd never seen before. What if I couldn't find my classes? What if the other students didn't like me? What if the teachers thought I was stupid? I was trying to pay attention, but there was so much to learn and now this: "Your diabetes may vary."