Today was the last day of work until after the holidays. Huzzah!
There were flurries of gifts being handed about. I don’t celebrate Christmas much but, being as it’s a school and I’m very visible to the boys and their parents, I get a number of gifts. There are also a few people on staff who drop things by. It can be very sweet. It can also be very difficult.
Christmas is a trying time for diabetics. It’s the season when everyone pulls out the sweets-stops and all those things I shouldn’t have in normal times are everywhere in absolute abundance.
And people can be extremely insensitive.
I am very polite about it, invariably. I accept the gifts with a smile and properly thank the giver of the cake, banana bread, pralines, or, best/worst of all, fudge, knowing that I am just going to have to regift or simply toss all of those things I’d rather just eat and enjoy like normal people.
I don’t hold it against anyone who isn’t aware that I’m a diabetic. Sweets and pastries and such are a traditional gift and it’s extremely sweet (literally) of them to think of me. It’s the people who do know I’m diabetic, most of my coworkers, who still give me things they know I really shouldn’t have and then try to persuade me that they’re being nice to me.
It’s borderline cruel wrapped in a pretty faux “I care for you” bow.
I received banana bread - a personal weak spot of mine - that I immediately threw away (in someone else’s garbage can). Laurie said as she handed it to me, “I know you’re diabetic, but I made this with brown sugar so it should be okay for you.” Um, it’s sugar. You kind of notice it in the name, brown sugar.
I received a tin of fudge - oh why, fudge! - that I’ll regift to a friend. Stacey said, “Oh, it won’t be bad if you just eat a little every day.” Yeah, like that’s going to happen with FUDGE.
I received a box of Godiva chocolates, with nuts - be still my heart - and Debbie said, “You have to splurge sometime, even if you are diabetic, and, well, Godiva is just the best, isn’t it?” Well, yes, it is, and I’d really love to have it, but it’s getting regifted also.
And on and on…
A “friend” at the work Christmas party today, someone who knows me well and knows how hard I struggle to keep my blood sugar levels in control, slapped a piece of german chocolate cake (chocolate! nuts! coconut!) in front of me because
“holiday sweets don’t count.”
Sigh. Yes, they do.
And because it was there, in front of me, and I would have had to make a statement of some sort not to eat it (implying that she was insensitive to put it right there in front of me), I ate it. I ate it.
And it, along with the alcohol I had (but had sugar budgeted for), threw my numbers completely out of whack for the rest of the day. Not to mention my guilt factor being through the roof and my respect for myself being through the floorboards.
Honestly, folks, if you know a diabetic, please, be kind.
If you have a choice between giving a diabetic a tin of cookies and nothing, go with nothing. It’s just so much more polite.
The more I write about this, the more annoyed and angry I get about it.
I take back saying earlier that it’s borderline cruel to throw sugar at a diabetic.
It’s not. It jumps clear over the border and slaps us right in our faces.
It’s hard enough to abstain and not feel pouty when all that deliciousness is all around you, but when people are cruel and pressure you into eating what is seriously harmful to you, damn, what the hell is wrong with people?
I need to remember to give the peanut brittle I got to my friend who’s allergic to nuts.
I need to give the bottle of wine to my alcoholic brother.
I need to give the pecan tarts to my neighbor who’s also diabetic.
Wait, no. I wouldn’t do any of those things because I like those people and I care enough to give them gifts which, even if they aren’t perfect, aren’t toxic to them.
Deep breath.
Let it go.
Move on.
I think I’ll go finish arranging the basket of assorted sugar-laden treats I’m regifting to my tenant and her daughter. They’ll actually enjoy them.
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