So I bought the books, joined the websites, got my little medical tag to wear around my neck. But soon I'd backslide, get rebellious, neglect to take my meds, and would fling myself back into the food orgy.
Then the guilt would smack me in the head, I'd resolve to take better care of myself, and for a few months, I'd be the model diabetic patient. But then the cycle would start up again.
Here's the funny thing: I am a Zen Buddhist. No, that's not intrinsically funny---wait; yeah, it is. Anyway, my particular Zen Buddhist gig consists of pretty much one thing. It's called shikantaza, and basically what it means is to Just. F***ing. Sit.
And it's boring. Unless you do shikantaza, you have no idea just how horrifically boring it really is. And it's uncomfortable, you itch, you have to go to the can, your nose runs, and it just all around sucks at times. Shikantaza makes doing your taxes look entertaining (I was going to write that it makes going to the Department of Motor Vehicles look entertaining, but then I remembered that visiting the DMV is actually a total scream).
But if I could sit for a half hour a day and sometimes longer as part of a discipline which really seems to have no point at all whatsoever (that's right! No point, kids!), then why the hell couldn't I take better care of myself as part of a discipline that has some defined goals---things like heading off lovely little issues such as neuropathy, limb amputation, renal failure, and more?
That's when I realized that diabetes management is not just a discipline, just as shikantaza is not just a discipline. It's a practice. What's more, it's a practice that takes practice. You have to, as RuPaul says, work it, beeotch.
(continued on next page)
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