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An Occasion for F-Bombs
The vent post. Be warned.
I mother-effing hate, hate, HATE, HATE, HATE this stupid effing disease! This stupid piece of shit disease! This rotten, despicable, effing, son of a bitch disease!
I could tell just by the way Charlie was skating. I could see the pinkness on his cheeks. Where he would normally be pumping his muscular little legs, he was coasting. Where he would normally be battling the opposing player, he was conceding easily. He looked as if he was drained of every single particle of energy in his body.
He just wants to play hockey. That's all he wants. Just to play without feeling like he could "puke in a can" the whole time, as he put it.
It's so effing unfair!
I asked Charlie on another occasion how he felt when he was high on the ice.
"Are you just not into hockey when you're high?" I asked him.
"I'm not into anything when I'm high," he said.
This day started so promising; me and Charlie jamming along to some Daft Punk on our way to a far away road game in Pennsylvania farm country. Having played in this rink before, we looked forward to the Zamboni that was spotted like a cow and joked about the smell of manure outside the rink that looked like a giant red barn.
It was in this barn and on the bench that Charlie sat, slurping water while I corrected and raised basal levels. His face was empty and miserable. He wanted nothing to do with the very sport he loved more than anything in the world.
In the car, Charlie's eyes teared.
"I wait all week for this and this is what I get," he said, his voice trembling.
"I know," I said.
Charlie's cheeks glowed red.
"How old do I have to be to be able to say 'eff you diabetes!'," Charlie asked.
This obviously gave me pause. Charlie certainly knew the word but would never dare say it aloud.
I thought about it for just a few seconds. I looked at Charlie. I looked into his angry watery eyes.
"Now is OK."
"Fuck you diabetes!" he said coldly and without hesitation.
Tomorrow is the Walk to Cure Diabetes. I don't think I've ever wanted a cure more than I do at this moment.
Michelle Kowalski, a writer, editor and photography hobbiest living in Phoenix, was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in February 2005. In January 2008, as part of her quest to start on an insulin pump, Michelle learned that she actually has type 1 diabetes. (Read More)
Nicole Purcell lists having type 1 diabetes last when she's asked to provide information about herself - because that's where it belongs. (Read More)