Diabesties. Not to be confused with diabetes. Dia-besties. Friends that (both) have diabetes. 

Around a decade ago my husband said to me, “Why don’t you get some friends that have diabetes?” Odd as it sounds, he was actually being incredibly thoughtful. More so, he was giving me the best piece of advice about how to cope with my diabetes – this doesn’t get prescribed at the Endo office. 

Diabetes is an ugly disease. We have tons of evidence to show that it has the tendency to isolate those that have it. Diabetes is isolating primarily because it’s a mentally consuming disease and has the tendency to make the person with the disease feel different. In general, tons of Americans have diabetes, primarily Type 2. Only 5-10% of that population have Type 1 Diabetes. This is an important differentiation. While Type 2 and Type 1 are both “diabetes”, they have significantly different manifestations. Furthermore, the  manifestation of the disease in the body is different. Does it all come down to a pancreas that sucks? Absolutely. I guess what I’m trying to get at here are the concepts of absolute insulin deficiency and relative insulin deficiency. These are important terms, and I can cover them in a separate, more technical/science-y post in the future. I’m mentioning it here, because how these two pathways play out (absolute versus relative) has a big impact on the quality of life of the person with diabetes.

People with T1 have a measurably harder time achieving glucose control than their T2 counterparts. Their sugar is what we consider to be labile, in that every little thing (and I mean every little thing) affects the glucose level. Ok, so what am I getting at, and how is this related to above point? Type 1 requires an immense amount of attention to control glucose (when I say control, I’m talking about getting glucose into target range). Because of the lability of the blood sugar, the person with T1 spends a lot of time in their head strategizing. That said… this is a “struggle” (not trying to sound dramatic, hence the quotes), because it’s a process that is unseen. Invisible, if you will. Only to the careful observer will they notice the T1 in deep thought… watch someone with T1 stare at their insulin pump at a restaurant; they’re likely starring due to an array of mathematical equations, cause and effect analysis and straight up guessing that’s going down in their brain. 

Speaking to Type 2, the relative loss of insulin is why it’s “easier” to control glucose and why glucose is not so labile and easily-impacted. In no way am I implying that Type 2 is an easy disease; please understand that I use the word easier only to make a comparison. This is not anecdotal, and I’m not making subjective statements here; we know this to be factual, however I still want the reader to understand my intentions, as well as my heart, in that I do fully understand how life-altering any diagnosis of diabetes can be. 

Glucose regulation in a person with T1 is different than glucose regulation in a person with T2. Persons with T1 count carbohydrates; persons with T2 almost never need to count carbs (despite what well-meaning dietitians say). Persons with T2 have quite a bit more liberty with their diet (not to be read as: Diet does not matter). Although the same external factors (primarily stress) affect glucose regulation in both disease pathways, the potency is significant in T1. It all has to do with that total loss of insulin secretion. 

So, imagine that you have T1 and you’re at a restaurant, about to eat.  Your goal is to calculate the precise amount of insulin that will land your blood sugar in the most perfect range two hours after the meal (perfection as the target being the first mistake made here). You are pissed, because your blood sugar is already out of range. You are about to eat a carb-y meal and you forgot to bolus early. You’re trying to decide if you should: 1) rapidly bolus and then go on a rage walk prior to your meal to get that insulin working on overdrive and to reduce that BG, 2) dash to the waiter and change your order to a chicken salad, or 3) say, fuck it,  and remain seated with the intention to eat said carb-y meal. Your lunch-mates want to know what the hell is wrong with you – why are you being so quiet and pissy looking? You want to explain it to them – having someone “get it” eliminates so much of the stress and loneliness – but, this crowd is diabetes-ignorant. You spend ten minutes explaining, and you get some empathetic looks and then everyone starts in on their meals, already having forgot what you’ve just said and wholly underestimating the impact of what you’re going through (not their fault, by the way). Now, picture this instead. One of your meal-mates is a T1. You look over at her and say, “I’m 250 and I can’t decide what to do.” She says, “Dude, that was me yesterday. Do you wanna do a couple laps?”

Making sense?

Okay, try this. Your friend tells you that she bought a new dress, but has no where to put her pump when she wears it. You bust out your leg wrap, created specifically for this scenario. Clutch. 

How about – You work in the ER. You’re in a code. You’re 50. You look at fellow T1. She drops everything (aside from compressions), is gone for approximately 30 seconds, and has a juice box up to your mouth. In no other world would this happen. 

Until my husband told me to get some diabetic friends, I didn’t have this avenue of outlet in my life. At the time he made this comment, I was grappling with some serious anger issues as a result of fear that I had about diabetes destroying my life. I was have difficulty navigating the emotions that would arise when my blood sugar would rise, experiencing rapid mood shifts  as well as rage and anger issues. These issues absolutely needed to be addressed on a deeper level (and they were), but my husband recognized that it might take the edge off if I had a friend or two that “got it”. 

I catapulted myself into getting involved. I got involved in a yearly conference that some endocrinologists in San Diego host. I already had one coworker that had diabetes and had extended herself on more than one occasion; because I was a complete jerk and didn’t recognize my need for her friendship in my life, I rejected her each time. Until I didn’t. And then she welcomed me with open arms. This friendship made way for other friendships. And that segued into having a more open mind, in both private and professional arenas, about seeking out and investing in people that had diabetes. It was a game changer. 

So, if you’re newly diagnosed, or not, and feeling isolated: #1 – that is such a natural feeling, and it’s real, and I see you; #2 – Put yourself out there. You will not regret it. 

Can people that don’t have type one “get it”? Absolutely! My husband is a perfect example. He is so un-embarrassed and super supportive of everything that has to do with diabetes. He takes what I say at face value. With his continued exposure, he grows more and more understanding. I also have some AMAZING friends. I cannot think of one non-type one friend that wouldn’t go to the end of the earth for a box of juice or piece of bread, that wouldn’t balk at me asking to go to a different restaurant, that would not bat an eye at me injecting in public. There is no “but” coming here. They are just wonderful and impressively understanding human beings.