“Are you sure you can eat that?”

As a type 1 diabetic, I hear this a lot. Let me start by saying that I know people don't mean any harm by this, they're just concerned about my health. I do appreciate that.

However, it can sometimes come across as patronizing. I often tell people that I wouldn't be eating whatever it was if I couldn't. I try not to get too annoyed when people ask me this, but sometimes I can't help it. I know what I can and can't do. I know what I need to do to keep myself healthy.

Almost everyone I work with knows I'm diabetic. They have either seen me give myself an insulin shot, watched me test my blood sugar, or heard me say that I need to treat a low. I'm very open about these things for a couple of reasons. The most important of them is that, in my opinion, it is in my best interest for my coworkers to know what to do if something happens to me. I don't expect them to watch for signs of low or high blood sugars (although one coworker who had a diabetic family member can apparently tell when I'm low), but in the off chance that I pass out or am not able to tell them what I need, they can connect the dots. It's a question of my health and safety at work.

I have no problem telling people that I'm diabetic, but I do have a knee-jerk instinct to clarify which type of diabetes I have. No, it's not the one where I can't each sugar. Yes, it's the one where my immune system has attacked my pancreas and made it unable to do its job.

In my experience talking to people about this, I've realized that most people have little to no idea what it actually means to be diabetic. Do I have to watch my sugar, protein, or carbs? All of them? How do I know when I'm low or high? I have no problem answering these questions–as long as they are asked respectfully, of course.

There is very little accessible information out there about diabetes, and the information that is available is often not entirely correct, or too simplistic (or both). Like any other condition, it's complicated.

My feelings about it are complicated, as well. Diabetes is protected under the Americans with Disabilities Act, but I've never been comfortable calling it a disability. I've had people ask me why I call it a disease. The simple answer is because it is one. Why do I draw the line between those? I have no idea. I think it's partly because I have this voice in the back of my mind telling me that I don't deserve to call my condition a disability. I have the resources to pay for my medication, I have access to doctors and health care, I have a great support system. This year I'm working on unlearning those “but some people have it worse” ideas. But that's another blog post for another day.

For a long time I tried to pass my diabetes off as just an inconvenience, not something that truly bothers me or stands in my way. Some days that's true, but others I spend a long time treating lows or feeling awful because I didn't wait long enough after treating one before going back to work. Some days my blood sugars are high for no other reason than the fact that I am diabetic.

Most days, I'm way too hard on myself. Another thing I'm trying to do this year is reminding myself that I'm doing the best I can and that's all I can do. I can't be perfect at having a chronic illness, no matter how much I try to convince myself that I should be.

Long story short, if you see me eating something that has a lot of sugar or carbs in it, chances are I've probably already spent more time calculating whether I could eat it than you can imagine. So, yes, I can eat that.