Trypanophobia (February 10, 2016)

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Avoidance

[uh-void-ns]

noun 

 

1.  the act of avoiding or keeping away from:

the avoidance of scandal; the avoidance of one's neighbors.

2. Law. a making void; annulment.

source: www.dictionary.com

I hold you

Within my hands

Unable to

Push the trigger.

To draw

The needed blood

For testing

My glucose levels.

As if

I was holding

A poisonous snake

About to sink

Its venomous fangs

Into my body.

Never mind

I face

The possibility

Of needing to use

Insulin.

To control

What pills can't

Anymore.

I have long memories

Of being held

Or threaten

By medical staff.

As they try

To inject medication

Or draw my blood.

Especially

Those early years

I had to undergo

Several corrective surgeries

To repair my mouth

From a severe electrical burn.

And those

Torturous visits

To the dentist

With his hamfisted touch

Around my constricted

Mouth.

A frustrated sigh

Escapes

At these triggering memories

From my childhood.

* * *

Against my body

It rest

Awaiting

For that final push

Into me.

My hands shaking

With anxiety

Like a Fall leaf

In a gentle breeze.

As I tell myself

I can do it

Over and over

Like a silent mantra

In my head.

Only to

Walk away

In fear

And Frustration.

At another failed attempt

To prick myself

For that bead

Of blood.

Never mind

Those times

I couldn't inject myself

With saline.

In the vain hope

Of relieving

My fears

About needles

And injecting myself.

No matter

How small or big

A needle is

A needle.

Thus

An object of fear

And avoidance

For me.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Not sure, if anyone can truly appreciate, my utter fear of needles, given my current medical situation, of facing the strong possibility of having to inject myself, with Insulin. During my last visit, with my nurse practitioner, we talked about my lack of test results for the glucose monitor and what I was going to do, to improve the number of times that I use it, to test myself. She suggested, I do the bare minimum of 4 tests/week, which means, before and after breakfast, after lunch and after supper, to build up, a database to get a clearer picture, of how my body is breaking down glucose. Sadly, in the 11 days since, the appointment, I have did it, only twice. Am hoping, this weekend, to have tested myself, 3 times, as it’s a long weekend, in Ontario.

The Waiting Game (February 2, 2016)

www.healthdefine.com

An anxious sigh

Escapes my lips

As I chew on

One of my fingernails

On my right hand.

Know

It's a bad habit

That I should stop.

But

I don't care.

As I face

Another three days

Before I face

My doctor

And the latest A1C result.

Will admit

Am scared witless.

In facing

The strong possibility

Of having to start

Injecting myself

With Insulin.

Not sure

How I should read

My nurse practitioner's

Response.

When

She says

The results are better

Than last time.

Given

Prior to that test

I had been off

All of my meds

For about 4 months.

And yeah

The results were

Disastrous.

That's putting it

Mildly.

Any result

Would be better.

Given

I'm back

On my meds

(HRT and diabetic).

But

Is it enough

To avoid

The need for injections?

That's

The million dollar question.

One way

Or another

Will be answered

At my Friday morning

Appointment.

Can only hope

It's good news

Until my next A1C test

In late April.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: By nature, I'm not the most patience of people, as you can tell, with this poem. I just want the results back, so I can move forward with my life, regardless, if I need to start using Insulin. And yes, this waiting is killing me.

Untitled (January 25, 2016)



www.kellywpa.com

Feel like

The general

That's about

To sign

Terms of surrender papers.

As I face

The real possibility

Of having to start

Insulin

On February 5th.

A fact

My doctor shared

During my appointment

This morning.

Should my A1C

Come back

Extremely high

Like last September test

At 10.

People tell me

Not to sorry.

But

They don't have

To stab themselves

With a needle

On a daily basis.

Or have

An extreme phobia

To needles.

Even

Using a lancet

To prick myself

Fills my soul

With a paralyzing anxiety.

Needing a year

Before

Able to do it

Myself.

This is

One birthday present

I dread

To receive.

Even if

It comes

Three days later.

And people wonder

Why I don't celebrate

My birthday.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: In September 2007, two months, after leaving the homeless shelter, I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes. Sadly, last year, as I struggled, with my mental health, I went off, all of my medications (for HRT and diabetes), for least four months. Am, now, paying the price, for doing so.

The Mountain Of Life (January 20, 2016)

www.agreekadventure.com

It stands

Before me

Like K2

Or Mount Everest.

Taunting me

To assault

Its steep slopes.

My hands

Searching for

That elusive grip

To propel me

Upwards.

Having spent

What seems

Like an eternity

On this rocky outcrop.

Scared

To look down

Where I've climbed

Over the past decade.

Afraid

I'll lose my footing

As vertigo

Over takes me.

(My fear of heights

Is second

To that

Of needles.)

Having

Already fallen

Backwards.

Losing several meters

(And years)

As a result.

Forced

To restart

From the base

Up.

Without

The same margin

Of error.

I

Once

Had.

Knowing

My future health

And any possibility

Of SRS.

Hang

In the balance.

Regaining control

Over my Type II diabetes

And mental health.

As I retrace

My steps

Upon the rock cliff.

Hoping

Of reaching

My dream's summit.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Yesterday (January 19, 2016), I had an appointment, with my diabetic nurse and dietitian, at their downtown Toronto office, as part of the follow-up, to my starting a new med, just before Christmas, last year. At the time, my glucose reading were dangerously high, in the low to mid-20s mmol/L. In Canada, a healthy person, should readings between 4 and 6 mmol/L, during a blood test. A diabetic is considered, within acceptable levels, if they test, between 4 and 7 mmol/L, before eating or drinking any food. At two hours afterwards, it increases between 5 and 10 mmol/L, for diabetics.


Lucky me, I get to see my family doctor and have fasting blood work done, tomorrow morning. A task, I'm not looking forward to, in having, to go and see the vampires, in the lab. Sigh.

No Thanks, I'm Vegetarian (January 10, 2016)

www.fitstylelife.com

Don't understand

Why people are

So surprised

At my rejection

Of their holiday meal.

Knowing

There is little

To none

I will eat

Of the meal.

Due to

Personal

And medical reasons.

Smell of cooking meat

Is enough

To make me

Nauseous.

Although

Must admit

To indulging

In the odd craving

Of fish and chips.

So sue me.

Sadly

Am Type II diabetic

(Thanks mom

For this genetic inheritance).

Forcing me

To be

Very selective

On my dinner plate.

As

Traditional veggies served

At high holiday feasts

Contain high sugars

And starches.

A fact

I don't need reminding

As I try keep myself

From needing

To injection Insulin shots.

Never mind

My anxiety levels

Max out

In crowded

And noisy situations.

Triggering

My need for quiet space.

Else

Am facing

A nasty panic attack.

I thank you.

But

In all fairness

Have to say

"No"

To your generous offer.


Therisa © 2016

Author's note: Not sure, what triggered this mental discussion, which resulted, in the poem, before you. But I had to get these thoughts out, before they drove me, nuts. Every high holiday feast, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, my building has a get-together, for the tenants, put on, by the staff, here, which I have politely declined.


For Christmas, last year, a food bank that I visit, when times are tight, was giving away tickets, for a free Christmas dinner, which I declined, disappointing another tenant, from my building, who wanted me, to accompany her, to it.


Sigh.


I can't win, for losing.