Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
The Difficulties of Going Public
In this post I will provide a written version of what I hoped to present for my 'Going Public' Assignment. Unfortunately, what I choose to present gave me a relatively small audience, and setting to give the presentation in. I hoped to speak about my experience as a young diabetic. This was intended for an audience of young diabetics who could hopefully gain from my experiences, as well as provide some insight to those who are unfamiliar with the disease.
The only location that this would have been appropriate is the Diabetes Center at the hospital. I got into contact via email, and provided a detailed explanation for why I wanted to give such a presentation, as well as the topic of the class. I was quite confident with my proposal, but for an unclear reason I was given the response, "This would violate Hospital policy, therefore we cannot help with your project." I replied attempting to inquire what policy I would be violating. I also further detailed why I wanted to do this, stressing that it would hopefully be a beneficial thing for young patients. They replied with no explanation, and once again stated that it would violate policy. Due to the extended periods of time between emails, I found myself unable to find an appropriate place to present my project, so I now give you what I hoped to provide at the hospital.
I remember when I was 9 years old, I was sick. This sickness wasn't a cold or some monthly ailment. This was something more serious. At the time I didn't understand what was happening. I hadn't felt great for some months. Stomach aches, headaches, constant thirst, and a relentless fatigue had filled my days. Finally my mother said I needed to see a doctor.
When I heard the diagnosis, I wasn't sure how to react. I remember crying, but mostly because I thought that was the appropriate response based on how others were reacting. After a few weeks of dealing with multiple daily injections and blood sugar tests, I began to understand what I was dealing with. This wasn't something that would go away.
Doctors don't like to tell kids that they are going to be sick for their entire lives. They avoid saying directly, at least. My doctor said "You are going to need to do these things everyday now." Looking back, I wish he would have just said "You are going to have to treat this disease for the rest of your life." Instead, I had to come to that realization myself.
For a 9 year old to have a existential crisis like that is not healthy. I didn't handle it well at first. I developed and obsessive compulsive disorder, which centered around numbers. I needed to do things a certain number of times, and each act had a different number. When I shut the light off, I would flip the switch a few times. I even had to open and close doors a specific number of times before I was satisfied.When you lose control over you body, you feel the need to control something else, and I did all these things to feel that.
Even though control is what I desired, I began to lose it to my obsessive nature. It affected my sleep, my social life, and my family. I didn't know how to change. It was like the OCD had taken the reins, and I was just a passenger. The control was gone, or at least the delusion of it was.
How did I get used to my new life? I just accepted that it can't change. It sounds like a simple realization to have, but it took years for me to have it. It is a releasing experience. It doesn't happen in an instant, but gradually. I began to not feel so sorry for myself. "I have this disease, and that won't change," is what I began to tell myself. I decided that what I could control was the disease. I didn't need to lose my body just because I thought I had lost control.
It sounds like the end of the world to be diagnosed with diabetes at a young age, but it isn't. It only affects you as much as you let it. That doesn't mean you can pretend you don't have it, because then it can affect and control you. You need to own it, or else it owns you.
The only location that this would have been appropriate is the Diabetes Center at the hospital. I got into contact via email, and provided a detailed explanation for why I wanted to give such a presentation, as well as the topic of the class. I was quite confident with my proposal, but for an unclear reason I was given the response, "This would violate Hospital policy, therefore we cannot help with your project." I replied attempting to inquire what policy I would be violating. I also further detailed why I wanted to do this, stressing that it would hopefully be a beneficial thing for young patients. They replied with no explanation, and once again stated that it would violate policy. Due to the extended periods of time between emails, I found myself unable to find an appropriate place to present my project, so I now give you what I hoped to provide at the hospital.
I remember when I was 9 years old, I was sick. This sickness wasn't a cold or some monthly ailment. This was something more serious. At the time I didn't understand what was happening. I hadn't felt great for some months. Stomach aches, headaches, constant thirst, and a relentless fatigue had filled my days. Finally my mother said I needed to see a doctor.
When I heard the diagnosis, I wasn't sure how to react. I remember crying, but mostly because I thought that was the appropriate response based on how others were reacting. After a few weeks of dealing with multiple daily injections and blood sugar tests, I began to understand what I was dealing with. This wasn't something that would go away.
Doctors don't like to tell kids that they are going to be sick for their entire lives. They avoid saying directly, at least. My doctor said "You are going to need to do these things everyday now." Looking back, I wish he would have just said "You are going to have to treat this disease for the rest of your life." Instead, I had to come to that realization myself.
For a 9 year old to have a existential crisis like that is not healthy. I didn't handle it well at first. I developed and obsessive compulsive disorder, which centered around numbers. I needed to do things a certain number of times, and each act had a different number. When I shut the light off, I would flip the switch a few times. I even had to open and close doors a specific number of times before I was satisfied.When you lose control over you body, you feel the need to control something else, and I did all these things to feel that.
Even though control is what I desired, I began to lose it to my obsessive nature. It affected my sleep, my social life, and my family. I didn't know how to change. It was like the OCD had taken the reins, and I was just a passenger. The control was gone, or at least the delusion of it was.
How did I get used to my new life? I just accepted that it can't change. It sounds like a simple realization to have, but it took years for me to have it. It is a releasing experience. It doesn't happen in an instant, but gradually. I began to not feel so sorry for myself. "I have this disease, and that won't change," is what I began to tell myself. I decided that what I could control was the disease. I didn't need to lose my body just because I thought I had lost control.
It sounds like the end of the world to be diagnosed with diabetes at a young age, but it isn't. It only affects you as much as you let it. That doesn't mean you can pretend you don't have it, because then it can affect and control you. You need to own it, or else it owns you.
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