Showing posts with label dating and diabetes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating and diabetes. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Diabetes Memory #10,866: The One Where My Date Figures "It" Out - And Eventually, So Did I.

So I was in my mid 20s and I was about to go out with my friend’s friend from grad school.
We’d met at black-tie pre-party, and afterwards when our group hit the bar for drinks, I invited him to a “Rat Pack” party I was throwing (lounge wear was mandatory, as was music by various members of The Rat Pack, Esquivel, and soundtracks from movies like Big Night & the Original Ocean's 11,) a few weeks later. What can I say? I love throwing parties with great soundtracks!
Anyway, I wore martini covered silk PJs and he dressed up like Mr. Howell from Gilligan’s Island, (which made me laugh,) and an good time was had by all!
Two days later and after a hellish day at work, he called and asked me to dinner for the following Saturday.
The day of the date had been crazy. Back then, I played touch football every Saturday in a mixed league, and even though I had no idea what I was doing, let alone what direction to run, it was always fun and a great way to meet people! But by the time I came home, showered and got all dolled up, I was starving.
So when he my picked me up at my apartment early that evening, I was downing grapes unceremoniously and by the fist full.
"Sorry," I said all apologetic, I’m starving!
"You’re starving", he asked quizzically: What are you, a diabetic??
And I looked square in the eye and said: Yes I am. Is that a problem??
Him: “REALLY? No, that’s fine, no problem at all. Just..., why did you keep it a secret? We’ve been talking on the phone for weeks, not to mention the fact that we’ve gotten together a few times socially, so I thought maybe you’d have mentioned it at least once.
Me: I wasn’t keeping it a secret, I was just keeping it to myself for the time being. I wanted to tell you when I was ready to tell you. And quite frankly, I didn’t want to bring it up tonight. But you guessed so now I'm telling.
Him: I’m glad I guessed, I want to know who you are. All of you.
Me: Great. Glad we got that out of the way - Now lets get out of here and go eat!
So we did, and had good time.
We ended up going out for about 3 months and I can honestly say, he was a stand up guy regarding my broken pancreas, but not so great in other areas. And while we got along and laughed, he had issues & so did I.
I was still learning to figure out my life as an adult, and as an adult with diabetes. And he was trying to figure out his life as an adult.
Bottom line, it wasn’t a long term love match, nor was it meant to be. And eventually I would come to realize that - and then some.
But when it ended I was pretty bummed out, and it took me most of the summer to get over it.
Looking back, it was a really good lesson(s) on all sorts of levels and it reinforced four very important facts that I kept with me always.

1. None of my previous relationships with the opposite sex had ended because of a negative reaction to my diabetes, including the one with "Mr. Howell"
2. My diabetes was mine, and if I wanted to have a significant other in my life, long term, short term, or somewhere in between, I needed to own my diabetes. And I needed confidence in my life with diabetes in order to have confidence in other areas of life, PERIOD.
3. We weren't "soul mates," not in the least. MAJOR BULLET, DODGED.
4. Sometimes people aren’t meant to be together for the long term, regardless of pancreatical challenges - That's why people with both working and non-working pancreases actually go out on dates, so they can figure all that dating stuff out!

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Way Back Wednesday: A Stupid & Rude Question Regarding My Diabetes- And My Fabulous Response~

This was my second blog post EVER, and was originally posted on 11/12/07
And yes, it really happened to me, and yes, I was angry. I know  it's happened to others in the DOC and beyond.  Good or bad, this is how I handled it. 

So, I'm out and about on Saturday with friends and was being chatted up by a guy who thought I was pretty fab, when the subject of my insulin pump came up. 

Him: "What's that", he asked, pointing to my belt clip. A new cell phone or blackberry?" Said he, all interested and sweet like. 

I decided to be up front with him and said, "it's a nifty, super delicious insulin pump." 

He got this really concerned look on his face and asked in a serious tone, 
"Oh...,you have diabetes...so can u have kids?

I was seriously steamed, but kept my cool.

I told him I'd let him know the answer to that and other sex related questions 
(including turn-ons and favorite positions) if he could tell me at that very moment what his sperm count was. 

I told him that I was even willing let him take his beer glass in the bathroom so he could get an accurate number, and even wrangled a few volunteers (my friends Donald and Julian)  to watch the bathroom door for him. 

The bartender was even willing to place bets-the whole bar waited for his answer.

Turns out, & I'm quoting his answer verbatim here, " I don't really know of the top of my head." 

"Exactly," I stated emphatically- and sashayed away and let him pay for my drink. 

No morons need apply here - regardless of their sperm count.

Full disclosure friends: Diabetes has never been the deciding factor when it came to ending a relationship with someone- or starting a relationship for that matter. 

Some folks idiots and some are not. I strongly believe that Diabetes weeds out the idiot factor in dating-and I'm so glad it does. Doesn't necessarily weed out the horse's ass factor, but definitely the idiot factor~

Monday, November 12, 2007

A stupid/rude question regarding my insulin pump, and my fantastic response

So, I'm out and about on Saturday with friends being chatted up by a guy who thinks I'm pretty fab, when the subject of my insulin pump comes up. "What's that", he asked, pointing to my belt clip, "a new cell phone or blackberry" he asked, all interested and sweet like. I decided to tell him the truth and said, "it's a nifty, super delicious insulin pump." He got this really concerned look on his face and asked in a serious tone, "can u have kids?" I told him I'd let him know the answer to that and other sex related questions ( including turn-ons and favorite positions) if he could tell me at that very moment what his sperm count was. I was willing let him take his beer glass in the bathroom so he could get an accurate number, I even wrangled a few volunteers to watch the bathroom door for him. Turns out, & I quote here, " I don't really know of the top of my head." "Exactly," I stated as I sashayed away and let him pay for my drink. No morons need apply - regardless of their sperm count.