aiming for grace

I notice.

Last week I had to wear a sling after my shoulder surgery and I got more comments and condolences from my friends and colleagues than I would have expected. People sent flowers, cards and food, and friends stopped by. Everyone was so kind and well wishing, which was greatly appreciated and really helpful in the process of healing. There is nothing like being noticed and cared about to lift your spirits especially when you are dealing with something like a surgery...

..or a chronic illness. What occured to me was that the VISUAL of the sling said "I'm hurt" and people responded to what they saw. Well, with diabetes, no one sees that I have a chronic illness I am dealing with every day. They don't know that I live with a disease that is by far more physically challenging to me than this minor surgery that I will recover from. And even though I wear a pump which is technically "visible", people usually think it's a pager or phone, so still they aren't really aware that I have diabetes.

Now, I'm most certainly not suggesting that we need to walk around with a big D on our chests either. It's not really anyone's business unless we want it to be. But what does occur to me about all this, is that maybe once in a while, we should treat ourselves to a bouquet of flowers to just say hey, WE notice what we deal with. In a way, that's what this newly found resource of support, the OC, is doing for me. Little acknowledgements of the courage it takes and struggle we face. And more importantly, acknowledgement of the joys of life and healthy living with diabetes. Life is good. So send yourself a bouquet of flowers, because boy, you deserve it!

"diabetics have more shoulder issues"

Who knew? I sure didn't until I talked about my ongoing shoulder saga with my endocrinologist at a routine check up. Off handedly he mentioned it like it was common knowledge. Well it wasn't to me (makes me wonder what other interesting things about diabetes I don't know about).

I'm presently recovering from arthoscopic surgery on my shoulder. It went well but boy it was a tough decision to do it in the first place. I found myself extremely nervous about this relatively minor surgery that promised relief of the pain I've been dealing with for the last 18 months. I've had other, more major surgeries, but for some reason, this one really had me spooked. I was truly anxious about the risks (anesthesia + diabetes), the recovery (possibly 2 times as long as for a non-diabetic according to my surgeon) and ultimately, about whether I would really feel better after the inevitable days of pain and months of rehab. It's also taken forever to be diagnosed correctly: 4 months to be diagnosed with frozen shoulder; 2 months of out of control blood sugars due to one surgeon who said that a cortisone shot would do the trick in spite of the fact that I was diabetic; mri's, x-rays and 10 months of rehab, 3 times a week for the frozen shoulder; and finally, when it stopped improving, another mri and a new diagnosis of bone spurs, chronic tendonitus, bursitus. With the frozen shoulder on the decline, now surgery was the next choice, other than continuing living with it as it was...fun choice. But the decision to have surgery had me really worried too. I don't know why exactly. Fear was definitely the underlying emotion of my worry. Fear and fatigue and frustration and distrust. Not that anyone of the doctor's I've been dealing with is untrustworthy or bad; on the contrary, they have all been concerned and kind. The fear seemed to come from yet another encounter with the limits of the medical profession, the slowness of the process of diagnosis, the erosive aspects of pain, and in the end, the profound knowledge that some things just can't be fixed or cured at this point in time.

In the end though, I opted for surgery and the promise of less pain and more range of motion. I opted for the hope of feeling better over fear and worry. I opted for faith in all the doctors who work so hard to make our lives better, in spite of the limits of present medical knowledge and technology. And also I opted for the surgery because after all is said and done, diabetes makes you tough and greedy. Greedy for more joy, less pain, and the promise of the best life possible.

Plus every journey reveals a discovery, like the ability to type with one hand when absolutely necessary! Ain't life grand?