Saturday, August 26, 2006

Nothing is Sound

I lay on my metal bunk, on top of a fleece blanket. My mp3 player delivered Switchfoot into the earbuds in my ears. My pump delivered insulin into the infusion set in my abdomen. It was hot. It was stinkin' hot. And I was feeling it. My headached and my arms sweat in the 95 degree whether. And there was no escape. Just me, all alone, in a stinkin' hot cabin.

Everyone dies

Is diabetes going to kill me?

Everyone loves a fight

Actually, I am sick of fighting, thank you very much.

Nothing is sound
Nothing is right side right


Nothing is sound. That's for sure. Otherwise I wouldn't have diabetes. I used to think that having hypoglycemia as a kid was a get-out-of-diabetes-free card. Your blood sugar couldn't be low and high, could it? And besides, I had enough other health crap to deal with. And I was just getting used to that. Surely this counted for something with God? How could I get diabetes?

Evening comes, when the sun goes down in red
Nothing is cool


Is this day over yet? Nothing is cool? That's for sure!

When will all the fighting end
When will all the fighting end


Not soon enough! Wait...when I die, I guess. I don't want the fighting to end then...

Happy is a yuppie word

Yuppies get sick too though

Nothing in the world could fail me now

Except my pancreas

It's empty as an argument
I'm running down a life that won't cash out (cash out)

Everything fails
Everything runs it's course


Where is this course running to? I don't get it God!

A time and a place, for all of this loving war
Everyone buys, everyone's gotta price, and nothing is new


No, this is all new! New, and stinkin' scary! But I guess this is my time and place.

When will all the failures rise
When will all the failures rise, rise!


I stick my finger and watch the meter as the number 272 appears on the screen. I feel like a failure. My head pounds.

Happy is a yuppie word
Blessed is the man who's lost it all
Happy is a yuppie word (word)


I haven't lost it all. Not even close. In fact, diabetes has caused me to loose less than first expected.

Looking for an orphanage
I'm looking for a bridge I can't burn down
I don't believe the emptiness
I'm looking for the kingdom coming down
Everything is meaningless
I want more than simple cash can buy
Nothing is sound


Cash can't buy me, or anyone else, a cure. It can't prevent anyone from having diabetes, nor can it stop anyone from having diabetes. No one is guranteed not to get a disease, because life has no gurantees. But has my first year of living with diabetes approches, it hasn't been empty or meaningless.

3 comments:

BetterCell said...

Death has a key to each one's Door.
He still knocks before entering.
Those with Chronic Illnesses carry their Wisdom, Pain and Love in Satchels and is never lost.

Johnboy said...

You know, I think one of the soundest things going is the O.C., and at the risk of sounding yuppie, I'm happy you are part of it!

Rock on...even it the heat!

-J.B.

Johnboy said...
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