I’d like to tell you a story about chocolate ice-cream…
Ice-cream is my favourite. Fruit and ice-cream are tied for my most loved foods in the whole entire world ever. They are the two things I always deem jab-worthy (worth injecting insulin for.) A consistent glimmer.
When I was a teenager, I have a distinct memory of coming home from school hot and bothered in the midst of a sweaty Durban summer, and my mom telling me I could ‘help myself’ to the tub of chocolate ice-cream in the freezer. Ten minutes later, she returned to find me digging into the tub with a spoon, immeasurably happier.
It’s the one thing that deeply saddened me about a life with Type 1 diabetes – not the injections or the blood sugar testing or the fact that it’s a chronic condition, but not being able to eat as much ice-cream as I want.
So a few years ago, I made a plan. Cleared a few hours in my diary, bought a fresh tub of chocolate ice-cream, intended eating it till I was Done. But then realized that eating an excess of chocolate ice-cream wouldn’t only mess up my blood sugar and make me feel exhausted for hours, but probably make me feel sick, too. Knowing I *could* do it meant I didn’t have to.
Until Saturday, when I gardened all day and my blood sugar kept dropping and I’d eaten all the fruit I wanted. So I tucked into a tub of chocolate ice-cream and ate as much as I wanted.
It was glorious. All I ever wanted! And yes, my blood sugar went high afterwards, but I injected and gardened some more and it all worked out fine. Total slice of joy.
It felt like reaching out a hand to my teenage self, and giving her hand a squeeze. We’ll be all right ❤️
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