Poem: To Love a Diabetic

Thanks Stacey :slight_smile:

aw… :slight_smile: [blush]
He does! hehe. I’m a lucky gal.

I love this poem, it is soo true. Thanks.

Marsha

Thank YOU for taking the time to read it and comment! :slight_smile:

Danny

You’re too funny. I have been working on one with that topic, actually, but it ends up reading like just a regular love poem. Not sure how to set it apart. :slight_smile:

UPDATE:
I have created greeting cards and a poster that can be framed (in different sizes) if anyone is interested to purchase.

http://www.zazzle.com/to_love_a_diabetic_card-137798495269258553
for greeting cards

http://www.zazzle.com/to_love_a_diabetic_poem_poster-22868879220835
for poster / picture that can be framed and given to a loved one.

Proceeds are donated to www.JDRF.org via Team Fighting The Unseen

I needed to personalize this to make it he and him. It is so beautiful:
To love a diabetic is to be a doctor. It means helping him to remember his medications. It means driving him for an hour to the only 24 hour pharmacy when he’s gotten the flu and can’t take the Nyquil in the refrigerator. Or driving him to the hospital when the simple flu turns into bronchitis and his blood turns acidic.
To love a diabetic is to be patient. It means knowing that some days he won’t feel good for no visible reason. It means canceling long term plans when suddenly he doesn’t feel well enough to go on a trip. Or waiting to go to bed while he injects her bedtime insulin.
To love a diabetic is to be a priest. It means consoling him when he’s tired and feels like he can’t do it anymore. It means listening and not passing judgment while he tries to figure out his new dosages and makes mistakes. Or, during those tough times, listening to his burial wishes- just in case.
To love a diabetic is to be a guardian. It means standing up for him when strangers accuse him of being a drug addict. It means discreetly asking his friends to keep an eye on him when he’s testing new medications and doesn’t know the reactions to his body yet. Or staying up with him through the night because he’s too afraid to fall asleep where a coma can find him.
To love a diabetic is to not be superficial. It means seeing his bruises as beauty marks. It means caressing the scars across his stomach. Or kissing his dry lips when he is hooked to IVs.
To love a diabetic is to be understanding. It means knowing that she doesn’t mean to get hot tempered when her blood sugars are too high. It means listening to her when she asks to start a family soon. Or donating time and DNA to sciences you don’t fully understand just because he asks you to and because it promises to cure him.
To love a diabetic is to be smart. It means researching new medications even though he never asks you to. It means listening to him explain his new findings in terms that aren’t typical language. Or making him smile when he desperately wants to scream.
To love a diabetic is to be selfless. It means going to a restaurant based off the carbohydrates menu instead of the atmosphere. It means going without dinner when money is tight because you can buy his medication with it instead. Or testing your blood sugar on his new meter to make sure it’s working properly even though you’re terrified of needles.
To love a diabetic is to be brave. It means keeping your chin up while he talks about those scary moments. It means not allowing him medical mistakes to color your relationship with him emotionally. Or keeping positive spirits even though all of the websites and gatherings tell you he won’t statistically make it past her 40s.
To love a diabetic is not easy. It means putting his medical needs before any other finances. It means worrying every moment that he is properly cared for even when you can’t see him. And it means trusting his life in the hands of so many doctors who don’t understand the full complexities of the disease.

Thank you for loving a diabetic.

This is lovely and I truly appreciate the sentiment. I have a wonderful husband. Yes, he listens to my problems, helps me in times of crisis, understands my needs, as I do his. He is wonderful, understanding, sometimes overprotective and a pretty selfless mate. We have been together for 39 years (T1 for all of it.)

I believe that a lot of the above tenets are MY responsibility. He can share and support, but it is up to me to fight the fight, and not his to wage the war. It still boils down to my body and my control. He has seen the unseen (highs and lows)in full technicolor and has perservered always (GO team!) I love him always, but it is still always MY fight,

I absolutely love this. I barely joined this community and when I read this it made me cry! My boyfriend read it and this is exactly what he does for me...when I was diagnosed we were barely dating for a few months but he has stuck around and has helped me through my worst! Thank you for sharing this.

This is absolutely beautiful. Hits home on every level..

I stumbled upon this website in my desperation to understand what my boyfriend(T1)of 3 years really needs from me in terms of support.
I am strong and love him so much but from time to time, I fall apart and get scared and get hurt and need my own support. To read this is validating and gives me hope for the times things seem hopeless. Thank you for the lovely poem.

I guess TuD didn't have SPAM rules in 2010.

TuD at the time did have rules, but they have since tightened. And like judicial law, the admin team at TuD applies rules based on the interpretation in place at the time of the posting. Since that time Marps has since gone on to a become an accomplished poet, writer and mother. Marps was featured in No-Sugar Added Poetry by DHF. Personally I consider this post a highlight of the vast content that has been posted here, I just wish it didn't get lost so easily. I miss Marps.

Sounds like the government. By the way this isn't actually a poem.

Lovely Poem well written sharing it with my friend…

1 Like

@Eian01, we’d love to see your poetry, if you have any to share. we have a category for it here

I know your intentions were good but this poem made me feel ugly. Like sorry it’s hard to “love” me and look at my ugly scars and bruises(which I don’t actually have).I guess loving me is giving to charity. Sorry. Also not all diabetics are the same. I’ve had this ■■■■ for 16 years and have never been “hooked to an IV” or picked a restaurant based on carbs.