6 Little Incurable Diseases

I know you may find this hard to swallow, but I live on a day-to-day basis with six incurable diseases, and I am a cancer survivor.  From worst to least I have; diabetes, hypertension, COPD (emphysema), arthritis, psoriasis, and a prostate gland the size of a grapefruit.  I survived malignant melanoma in 1983 with no recurrences in the thirty years since.  The doctor had to cut a hole clear through my cheek and sew the hole shut with twelve stitches.  When I tell classes about my spotty medical history I always remind them that every day of life left to us is a gift.  No, change that, I tell myself.  

Diabetes is the worst of my diseases because it makes me feel bad daily.  Everybody who has diabetes can tell you that no two people have the same diabetes.  It treats everyone a little different.  Mine will take my blood sugar briefly to the high side and then plunge dangerously low.  The lowest reading I have ever gotten on the blood sugar meter is 35, which doctors say can’t be right, that monitors don’t read accurately at extremely low levels.  So I guess it may have actually been lower than that.  When it is low, my head feels like a beehive full of angry bees.  I am desperately hungry at that time and must eat, but I must eat the right thing and in the right amount.  If I do get at least eight grams and protein and twenty grams of carbohydrates, I am in for an hour’s worth of pounding headaches as the blood sugar levels even out again.

Psoriasis is one of my least life-threatening incurable diseases, but it is by far the most annoying.  Dry patches of skin turn into itchy, bloody nightmare sores of purple and green.  Infected, one of them could easily cost me an arm or a leg.  The disease keeps me awake at night, and when I do sleep, I am liable to make more sores by scratching without realizing.  You have to learn degrees of self control that I would never have believed possible fifty years ago as a kid.

I know this post has not been exactly hilarious so far, but I think it is meaningful never-the-less.  The silly and somewhat stupid statement that I intend to stupidly make about it is, “I never could have been so alive for the past few years if it were not for my six incurable diseases.”  Stupid statement, I know, but it is true.  I have never learned a more important lesson than the one I learned in multiple emergency room visits.   Staying alive is a privilege that must be worked at, must be earned.   There is deep within all of us a willpower, a force that drives us to be alive that can be dug down to and ignited in times of crisis.  If I had never been ill, I might never have learned that.

I have also learned that you must admit that you do not stand alone, and, at times, you must rely on other people to pick you up and even carry you when the need is evident.  I am not too proud to say that if I hadn’t been able to rely on friends, family, and even good-hearted strangers, I might not still be here.  It is humbling, but it is good to feel the connections we all have with the people around us.

So, what can I say to make the grim seem acceptable?  I know full well I may not be here come tomorrow morning.   I value every second of being alive.  I will continue to take my four medications every day for the rest of my life.  I will continue to count proteins and carbs and juggle them properly.   I will continue to do everything the doctor says that I can possibly afford to do.  And why will I do it?  Because I must not waste a single moment of God’s gift, no matter how much it may hurt, itch, or ache.