(Re) Navigating The Waters of Diabetes

Published this post initially in March 2010. But it's again how I am feeling, after being reminded by Kerri Sparling in a great post she wrote recently. So, here it is again.

In The Waters Again

Sky is dark. Clouds hover overhead, trapping the light behind a veil of darkness, a haze that stops you

Source.

from seeing what's ahead. A bright spot, a break in the clouds, can be seen ahead on the horizon where the sun shines through. That's the destination. 

But it's not an easy path. This journey means you must ride the river. A dangerous river. Toward that place off in the distance, a spot you hope isn't a mirage as you desperately try to reach it.

This river is riddled with rough patches. A rocky, wave-splashing-against-the-shore type of river. Rocks sit in strategic spots along the river, aimed solely at catching you off-guard and pitching you helplessly into the waters.

The only salvation is a small little raft - a Log - that shows how you're doing in navigating these trecherous waters. A safety vest - a lifeline connected to the body - provides some comfort and helps boost you or keep you tied down when needed. Every single moment it keeps you alive, even as you fearfully face those ever-present dangers that mean quickly drowning before there's a chance to recover. Clinging to the small raft, we do all we can just not to fall off and sink to the bottom of the dark waters. Paddling away, with whatever we have to paddle with - oars, branches, hands, feet, arms.

Out of nowhere and without warning, a High wave crashes into me, sending me up into the bleak sky. Here, I know I won't drown. But the drop back down is inevitable, and that's a dangerous crash. Plummeting downward. Sinking into the dark abyss, water rushes over me. I sink lower. Finally, I manage to pull myself back up to the surface. Breath for air. Tread water, until I can again pull myself back onto the raft and continue on. Soaked, shaking, again clutching to the sides and regaining composure.

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The ride resumes. The raft offers comfort. Even as I can see more waves ahead, and realize the future isn't any different. No matter how much I crave peace and easy river-riding, I can't have it. Must battles the waves. But carry on hope that someday I'll reach that brighter, non-wavy place. A place that maybe I will reach, but may fall short again and have to find my way back there.

Navigating through the Waters of Diabetes.

Making every moment count. Riding the waves, but seeing and appreciating the scenery along the shores even as it passes by. And knowing that, even if you're manning the oars or paddles, there are others on the shore keeping watch - cheering, advising, throwing a life jacket or tree limb, or just giving a hand when needed.

Stability and Control, managing the ride  as much as you can without giving the waters control.

Forever.