The hardest part about learning to live my new life as a diabetic so far has been dealing with my friends and co-workers trying to “understand.” The needles stopped freaking me out after the end of the first day. I hate having to prick my finger to check my BS, but oh well. I don’t mind exercising everyday, even if it is a simple walk around the block. And I am actually grateful for the excuse to now develop my self-discipline concerning food. But I get so damn sick and tired of people who don’t know anything about diabetes, and some who do, who consistantly try to tell me how much they “understand.” I have friends who are T2 who think they know everything, and I have friends who are mothers who think they know what it feels to suddenly gain weight again now that I am on insulin, and I have friends who think their gallstones affect their lives to the depth that mine has been changed. I’m tired of being polite and considerate. I’m tired of pointing out how many choices they have had. I’m sick of explaining that my body is not going to suddenly start producing insulin on its own and that I will be never be able to manage my diabetes with diet and exercise alone. I am visiting my parents for the first time since I was diagnosed. It was strange checking my BS and shooting up in front of them. Tomorrow we head out to the Olympic Peninsula for a week of camping. My first time sleeping on the ground since last summer. My BS has been high ever since I got here, but I’m not worried. I take my 2nd A1C when I get back to Vegas and I am proud of the fact that I won’t be anywhere near the number I was 3 months ago when my life changed forever.