There are many aspects of diabetes too excruciating to wish upon your worst enemy. The finger pricks for a drop of blood large enough to satisfy the insatiable hunger of the glucometer (if you are even lucky enough to bleed when you poke), the invisible disability of hyper and hypoglycemia (we may not show it, but we can damn well feel it), the mandatory diligence required to eat a small snack of fruit (yes, there are carbs in

food other than junk food), and the unsolicited advice provided by well-meaning individuals who are unaware of how deeply their ignorance dwells (no, the phrase “my Aunt Gertrude had diabetes” is not relevant to a type 1 diabetic’s existence).

For me, one of the worst parts is the unrelenting beep, beep, beeping of the damn continuous glucose monitor during the darkness of night when every sane human in my timezone is peacefully asleep because they have a functioning pancreas. The first few beeps always get ignored. Partly, because a part of me thinks “it will go away” and the other part smartly says, “it will go away.” But it NEVER goes away… it just gets LOUDER. Rolling over and simply turning off the alert is always a possibility, but I’ve learned it WILL NOT GO AWAY if all I do is ignore it. So, I am forced, at 2:23 am, to wake up enough to turn off the alert on my cgm and to enter the damn number into my pump so it can provide me with a correction of insulin to bring me back into range–the way my pancreas is supposed to do on its own without waking me up.

Granted, there are just as many times when my cgm yells at me because I need to quickly consume some carbs and refrain from dancing on Death’s front door in my sleep. I am grateful for the lifesaving protection of my cgm. I feel naked, exposed, vulnerable and fairly helpless when I am not wearing my continuous glucose monitor. To not know the trend of my blood sugar scares me because I have experienced the trauma of being caught unaware by a tempestuous low.

But, I was not always so attached to my cgm. It actually took months before I was willing to wear it continuously. At first, it was because I wanted to continue enjoying an undisturbed night of sleep. Then, there was the frustration that came from having the damn alarm scare the crap out of me with a reading of 43 only to learn I was actually at 65. They may both be scary to most people, but, for me, being in the 60s isn’t much of a concern. I have always had a high tolerance for a low blood sugar. It has saved my life on numerous occasions, so I have learned to not question, but simply to accept with joy.

At first, my insurance company played coy and couldn’t ‘find’ the prior authorization needed to supply me with the sensors required for the continuous glucose meter to work. I spent six months calling and speaking to a new person at the insurance company. I would always ask for the name of the person trying to help me on each call and, every time I called back, none of those people were ever acknowledged to work at the company. At the time, I didn’t use the sensors with regularity because I didn’t have the hundreds of dollars I was being charged each month for a sensor that only works for seven days. I started hoarding my sensors against the day someone would stop sending them to me.

Finally, a day came when I looked in my closet and I saw enough boxes of sensors to make me feel secure. I felt comfortable in knowing I could wear my cgm continuously and not worry about running out of supplies. One other key revelation helped me to feel the sense of security that allowed me to let go of my need to control the amount of sensors I had on hand: I learned how to make a sensor last for longer than seven days!

I wear a sensor for my cgm every day now. Usually, I put them on my thighs, abdomen, or above my butt cheeks, but today I put a new sensor on my arm. It’s not that I’m

embarrassed to wear my sensor in a visible location… I’m too old to be embarrassed. I just don’t put the sensor on my arm because I have tattoos that I don’t want to cover up and that leaves very little space with which to play with. Recently, I have started connecting with other type 1 diabetics on social media and I see how proud they are to wear their cgm sensor in the open. The last time I wore my cgm sensor on my arm was shortly after first getting one, and I couldn’t get it to stay stuck on my stomach (another lesson learned: the importance of Mastisol in prepping a site).

I am no longer afraid of the insurance company denying me access to my supplies. I do not expect this truce will last forever, but I am going to enjoy the peace while I can. I don’t know how long the government will be willing, or able, to provide me with the supplies that are necessary for me to live a life of “freedom” and the “pursuit of happiness,” but I am willing to work part-time at minimum wage as a lifeguard in order to NOT make enough money to be forced to pay for my supplies. THAT, I have learned, is the full truth behind a diabetic lifestyle… sacrifice.

I have not only had to sacrifice my health, life expectations, life expectancy, choices in food and activities, privacy, and social perceptions caused by my disability, but I have been forced to sacrifice my ability to live a life free from the stress caused by fighting with a recalcitrant insurance company. I have willingly had to sacrifice my right to feel secure in my chances of living a safe and healthy life month-to-month.

One would think that with so many sacrifices on my mind I would be willing to do what was necessary to give myself the greatest chance of success at a long and healthy life by doing everything necessary to maintain excellent control over my diabetes. Unfortunately, there are some sacrifices I am not willing to make: the sacrifice of NO beer, of NOT eating out with friends, or of living in FEAR.

I do not know how long I will be able to rely on the State to provide me with the means to stay alive and live my life (…I am aware of how my government is not even concerned with basic Human Rights…), but I choose to continue on my path with the belief that everything will work out in the end. I have my stockade of sensors and my hard-earned knowledge of how to make each sensor last as long as possible (I think 20 days or so is my longest running streak to date). Whatever tomorrow, or next week, or even next year brings, I will be ready to continue losing sleep while wishing my damn cgm would stop beeping at me if I just ignore the damn thing.