Because I'm Diabetic

I was a child of the sixties. By the time I was in my mid-twenties, I had "tuned in" to the social changes that were manifesting themselves all over the country, "dropped out" of mainstream America (leaving a job, a husband, and a walk-in closet of clothing behind), and "turned on" to alternative lifestyles that opened doors to new adventures in consciousness. Soon, I was eating brown rice and veggies, granola and home-baked bread, and salads instead of cheeseburgers, while supplementing my daily food intake with vitamin and herbal supplements. Though I was still smoking cigarettes (and other things) at that point, "dessert" or other excuses to eat sugar appeared only as "treats" on special occasions and it didn't occur to me that it should be otherwise.

When I "dropped back in" five years later, I assimilated into the norms that I realize now were moving our entire culture in an unhealthy direction. We went from fresh to canned to frozen vegetables, from homecooking to fast food, from playing outside to playing in front of a computer or a television monitor, from pushing mowers to riding mowers, from lots of sleep to lots of coffee, and from "treats" on special occasions to pop tarts for breakfast, McDonald's fries (dipped in sugar-laced catsup) and chocolate shakes for lunch, and dessert after dinner that rivaled the size of the meal. More importantly, we grazed all day on "snacks" with little to no food value and lots and lots of carbs.

When we packed on a few extra pounds, we chalked it up to middle-age and bought a larger size. And when diabetes, heart attacks, and strokes became as common as catching a cold, we drowned our anxiety in spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry's New York Super Chunk Fudge ice cream eaten out of the carton while we watched the Late Show on the way to bed.

It was only when I was diagnosed as diabetic myself eight years ago and implemented the changes in my life that were recommended to make it possible for me to live longer and healthier that most of this changed for me. Like many, I went through phases of understanding and accepting my condition. At one point or another, I've felt terrified, depressed, irritated, confused, and sorry for myself. But over time, it has finally occurred to me (in a blinding flash of the obvious) that the changes I've made are really just to do the things everyone ought to do, but doesn't.

I'm not suffering. I still eat pizza (see the cover on my book Your Life Isn't Over ~ It May Have Just Begun!). I eat chocolate every day. And I still enjoy a cheeseburger once in a while (without the bun). But I make my food and drink choices healthier ones almost all the time -- because I'm diabetic. I opt away from the Reuben sandwiches on the menu -- because I'm diabetic. I maintain a routine of adequate sleep because I'm diabetic. I walk briskly and run in the park because I'm diabetic. I do aerobic sets in my living room when it rains because I'm diabetic. And I ride herd on my response to the stressors in my life because I'm diabetic. In other words, I'm in better shape in every way as I creep up on my seventieth birthday in April because I'm diabetic.

I'm not saying I'm glad I developed this condition. It's inconvenient. It can be pricy. I'm still too embarrassed to take insulin in public. But there's no doubt in my mind that my overall health and well-being are vastly better than they would be if the Diabetes Monster didn't "encourage" me to do the wise, healthy, and appropriate things I would not be doing otherwise.

Earlier in this process, I went through patches when I believed I would die sooner because of my diabetes. Now, I've come to believe that I'm likely to live a higher quality life for longer, looking better, and feeling happier because I'm diabetic. It's a good thing.