So I know I’ve got the Six Until Me site on our blogroll, but today it receives more than an honorable mention from me. Kerri’s blog about her life with Type-1 diabetes is nothing short of wonderful — a rare intersection of inspiration and reality. Yesterday’s entry was no exception as Kerri dealt with something extremely common to anyone with type 1 diabetes.
You see, aside from the daily management involved with type 1, there is the whole concept we lovingly refer to as “peanut gallery management” (not really, but that is what I would call it if I were to give a name to the numerous, ridiculous conversations I’ve had on this topic). While I realize that few people are as acquainted with the ins and outs of diabetes as we are required to be (let alone the difference between type 1 and type 2) you would think that said individuals would (out of deference to their lack of knowledge on the subject) keep their comments to themselves. Unfortunately, we have not found this to be the case. (I have also noticed that this condition applies to anyone addressing a pregnant woman — but I digress and will save that rant for another blog!)
The award for “Most inane thing ever said to me regarding type-1 diabetes” has several contenders but because I can only choose one, I will award it to the ER dr. — who shall remain nameless because I have either a.) blocked his name from memory in an attempt to avoid further anger-mangement therapy or more likely b.) never knew it in the first place because when I met him, I was a deer in headlights with a 3 1/2 year old that had just been diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. His comment to me (in total seriousness) when I asked if I could give my child her lunch now please was . . . “I don’t know — you know she will probably have to eat the Atkins Diet from now on.” At which point I debated between a.) falling on the ER floor and begging Jesus to return early to save me from having to cook the Atkins food I apparently needed to cook to keep my child healthy and b.) decking the dr. for his ignorance, hurdling the desk to reach my baby’s room and upon entering the room, stuffing a vegemite sandwich into my starving child. I chose b. (minus the decking and hurdling — but you get the picture.)
The thing is, the situation I encountered (while nothing short of astonishing/disturbing from a hospital DOCTOR at a CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL . . . breathe in, breathe out) is apparently very widespread. With this in mind, I think in the future I will take a leaf out of Kerri’s book, and at least TRY to temper my responses with education rather than frustration. And hopefully by the time Hanna is old enough to be doing her OWN shopping at Ann Taylor, the world will be a better educated place.
To read Kerri’s blog in it’s entirety, click here.
(Then click here to shop online and avoid the sales associates altogether! LOL!)
Oh, and for the sales associate at Ann Taylor?
I present to you a perfectly HEALTHY 8 year old — 4 years post-diagnosis.