Some sayings have gained a certain meaning to me lately.
“Ignorance is bliss.”
“Knowledge is power.”
“With great power comes great responsibility.”
And in the background, “You can’t handle the truth.”
This change in view coincides with a new outlook on my health, a negative one. I’ve never gone to the doctor, never had checkups, never got sick. It turns out I was just ignorant. I have been sick for quite a while and didn’t really know or care. In fact, I know that I didn’t care. In some ways I wish I never knew.
A routine physical at age 40+, a simple examination I’ve not had done in well over 25 years. No big deal, piece of cake. Ten tubes of bloodwork plus more? Whatever. Then the call from the nurse. Something’s not good, we need more blood. Sure, take it all. Then the followup appointment.
“I’m going to prescribe you this medication, schedule you for an educational class, and we’ll go across the hall here and get you set up for testing supplies.” No big deal. Matter-of-factly, even. “A lot of people have this.”
This is knowledge I didn’t want. The nurse says “It’s not the end of the world.” Maybe not, but more accurately, it’s the end of the world as we know it. Things have changed.
On the day of the news, I was shell-shocked, then I started working through the stages of grieving. I guess I’ve reached acceptance. Along the journey, I experimented with the tools they gave me and built up some knowledge of myself. Seeing how my blood sugar levels affect my physical self is interesting to me. It’s kind of like having a diagnostic port that I can check any time I want. Then being the geek I am, I’ve researched all the gadgets and devices involved with diabetes. It’s good to know what you’re going to be dealing with.
But now that I know, I’m supposed to do something about it. Since I’m in some sort of grace period before my medicine is approved and my actual testing kit is sent (and I have to start paying for this), I’m building a baseline to see what kind of changes must be made in order to contain this beast of an issue. I’m not entirely sure I’m willing to sacrifice my pleasures for longevity. It’s a heavy burden to carry.
Carry on, wayward son.