Feb. 17th, 2008

dianadragonfly: (Default)
medical info cut for tmi/boredom )
I'm not diabetic. Not yet, anyway.

I have such issues with food that I'm not sure I could make the changes needed to save my life if I were diabetic. Isn't that sad?

I watched an aunt whom I loved very much DIE in front of me of diabetes while I read poetry and James Herriot books to her. Still, I am scared I might not be able to give up french fries and hohos.

But I think I might have to. I know that RA puts me at a HUGE risk for heart disease and stroke. This latest funky ass thing makes me feel vunerable, like there's a bomb in my chest or something and I'm going about my daily life like there's nothing wrong.

I have this image in my head of my grandpa's final years and my dad's final years, and when I think about them, it's like I see an X-Ray -- there we are, standing and laughing at the airport in 1991 in my favorite picture. And my mind zooms into a mental image of his kidney, of how the tumor must have been maybe pea-sized then, growing slowly... and how the thing that would kill him was there, all along, biding its time as if it had some sort of plan. That's how I feel about this whole strange health thing... that something is there, just waiting. It's not going to be dramatic with sirens blazing or family rushing in, or a team running into action to save me. Just something boring and banal and every day that no one will notice on any tests... This fear is like living with a sniper.

I suppose everyone has that fear of death. I'm just pathological about it sometimes. I was thinking about it when D-Day came up for me.

And I know how some people destory the fear, by not treating their conditions, or eating and throwing up or not eating, or taking bad chemicals or stupid chances. It's like saying "Fuck you, sniper... I dare you! You can't sneak up on me because I invite you in."

I told [livejournal.com profile] paperflowers that maybe, we shouldn't decide to live or die -- just things happen. But I'm a hypocrite because I'm obsessed in a totally oppossite way. I want to live. I refuse to take the power away from the sniper by inviting him. I live darting across alleys and ducking behind trashcans. I know that this fear is perhaps worse than the actual bullet, but damn... I am not about to risk it. I want to live. I do not gamble what I know for what I don't.

When you see the sniper, you can't ignore it. I try really damn hard to ignore, but I always sort of live in fear.
[livejournal.com profile] paperflowers throws rocks at it, calls it a coward, dares it to come in. I love that about her. I hope she never succeeds, though. I am scared enough for both of us.

awhh shit

Feb. 17th, 2008 10:21 pm
dianadragonfly: (Default)
I had a beautiful post... all about my health and about how I fear death and it used one of those damn extended metaphors that [livejournal.com profile] paperflowers and I are so fond of.

LochJournal ate it.

sonvabitch

Anyway, good luck with the Booger King, [livejournal.com profile] paperflowers.

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