So I had big plans to write this post about Bret Michaels (I mean come on, the man survived the 80's as the lead singer of a glam metal band all while living with T1D--that's a note-worthy accomplishment). But then it struck me very suddenly and very obviously who my real diabetes hero is: my boyfriend Colter.
I have to give credit where credit is due. He has done (and puts up with) so much.
He didn't run away in fear on that first date, even while I used one hand to stuff pizza down my throat and the other to stab myself in the stomach with an insulin pen.
He acted legitimately interested on that second date when I overly-explained the difference between Type 1 and 2.
He asked questions and read Diabetes for Dummies and even bought a diabetes cookbook.
And now that we live together, he gracefully puts up with my sudden mood changes that accompany unexpected highs.
He never makes fun of me for that one time my BS bottomed out at 36 and I started crawling around on the couch and bawling like a baby. (I like to think of it as an out-of-mind experience.)
He laughs when he finds a stray test strip in the kitchen or the bathroom or inside his shoe.
He instantly asks "What do you need? What can I get" when I glance at the back of my hand. (It gets pale and swollen when my BS dips.)
He now, too, gets angry when he hears someone make an ignorant comment about diabetes.
He tries so hard to make meals that are healthy and easy to calculate.
He bites his tongue (at least most of the time) when I scrutinize the ingredients lists of the items in his shopping bags and pretends to care as much as I do about hydrogenated oils and yellow #6.
He is there for me, even when I'm not at my best. And with me, that kind of commitment takes a superhero.
|He even looks like a superhero!|