Write a short story personifying a diabetes tool you use on a daily basis. A meter, syringe, pump, pill, etc. Give it a personality and a name and let it speak through you. What would it be happy about, upset about, mad about? (Thank you Heather of Unexpected Blues for this topic.)
Well, I guess this is it.
Okay. Bid me farewell and pray I don’t come back to run your life. Your diabetic life. I am happy for you. I can’t say I will miss you and you certainly won’t say, “I will miss you” back. You ditched me remember? I hope to stick around longer to keep you safe and well. Your choice made me both happy and irate at the same time though.
What gave me the confidence to leave is that look in your face. I sense hesitation, confusion, a bit of fear. But, above all, I saw courage and willingness to turn things around. On your own, you realized that you are still in control, not your disease. You shut me out not because you refuse to acknowledge defeat but to acknowledge your victory. I like that spirit. I understand that it means more to you than just scratching me off your maintenance list.
You are a grown man. You know better. I am just a small pill you never wanted to take but had to. Your mind is made up. Freedom, good health, and long life are your goals. If I was around, you can’t have them all, right?
So goodbye. Oddly enough, I am not mad that you chose to give me up. A little annoyed and worried, yes. We have been through thick and thin for the past couple of years. I had been witness to your fine time and down time, mostly down time of course. When you pick me up, it made me feel great because I know, I will make you feel alright.
Now that you packed me away, I won’t be able to nurse you. Somehow though, it makes me happy knowing you’re gonna be alright on your own.
Be alright. Live life to the fullest. But please know that I will be here anytime you need me. I guess, when the going gets tough, you won’t have much choice anyway, will you?
Metformin, 2×500 mg a day.