Forever Valentine

Dear Forever Valentine,

You chose me. The gorgeous ring on my finger reminds me every day. Later this year, in front of our family and friends, we will forever be bound together.

You chose me. I don’t think either of us could have predicted this. We lived in the same college town for years, our paths never crossing. We lived our separate lives, with our separate friends, and separate interests. But perhaps feeling like something, someone, was missing.

You chose me. Or better yet, you swiped me. Brought together by technology, your words drew me in. Your cute, but elusive smile made me want to stay.

You chose me. With you, things felt easy. But life is not easy. Life throws you challenges, and devastating loss, and choices that cut to the core, that emphasize our differences. But with you by my side, we face each obstacle, together.

You chose me. To share your interests and passions with. To share your goals and your fears with. To start a family and grow old together.

You chose me. And you chose my diabetes. Because we are a package deal, we are intertwined so deeply- physically, mentally, emotionally. You see my diabetes, I see your worry. But you also see past it, you see me.

You chose me. And I chose you. Forever, Valentine.

vday pump

Love and diabetes

It’s Valentine’s Day so I’m going to take this day as an opportunity to be a little mushy and talk about loooooove. More specifically, love and diabetes.

So what does love and diabetes look like?

Love is carrying my fruit snacks in your pockets when we go for a run and I have no place to put them.

Love is sitting next to me when I’m struggling to insert my CGM sensor because of a previous painful experience and telling me I can do it and everything will be okay.

Love is disrupting our date and driving me to my work at 10 pm because I can’t find my meters and I think I left them at my office.

Love is buying a box of gushers to keep at your place in case I drop low and don’t have anything with me.

Love is hearing my CGM vibrate and knowing just from the pattern of buzzing if I’m high or low.

Love is waiting for me to feel better. For being patient and understanding, always.

Love is ignoring my “No” and turning around and driving me home even when we’re running late because I’m out of test strips, my CGM is not working, and my blood sugar is high, but as you told me, “your health is more important.”

Love is learning, constantly, what type 1 diabetes is and how to manage it. “You’re high, that means you need more insulin, right?”

Love is holding me when I drop to 40 and don’t feel well. It’s bringing me water and laying down with me when I’m 350 and feeling sick. It’s being with me when I’m 90 and am not even thinking about my diabetes.

Love is getting up and grabbing something to help me treat a low without me even asking.

Love is being excited when I show you how good my numbers have been all day. Love is feeling my frustration when they haven’t been.

Love is putting up with me when I get snippy because I’m getting hangry and low.

Love is sitting down to a home cooked meal and you telling me how many carbs are in the couscous.

Love is worrying.

Love is caring.

Love is you.