How Others Treat Me Now

     I was invited to a brunch birthday party by some friends.  I decided to be assertive and called ahead to explain that because of my new diabetes diagnosis I was hoping to find out what they planned to serve so I could plan how to stay within my dietary restrictions.  They greeted the question with an overwhelmingly enthusiastic – “oh, you’ll find lots of healthy choices – it won’t be a problem at all.”  They went on to list the foods they were serving…bagels and cream cheese (carbs), fruit salad (carbs), muffins (carbs), homemade piecrusts filled with quiche (carbs), and turkey bacon (ew).  They were so emphatic about how I’d be absolutely fine that I just agreed that it sounded wonderful and got off the phone wondering how to handle the situation.
It was clear to me that I’d need to eat breakfast/lunch before going to the party.  Knowing that people often pay far less attention to what someone is eating than we imagine, I thought I’d just make it seem like I was eating and nibble on turkey bacon when it became necessary to make an “appearance." As I write this I can’t help but wonder why I was so preoccupied with making them feel okay and pretending that I was eating foods that I really couldn’t.  We’re all so well-trained to be polite, even at our own expense, aren’t we?
So the day came and I ate a small meal before going.  Sure enough no one really noticed who was eating from the buffet and who wasn’t – people were grazing throughout the party.  When the hosts encouraged me to eat ("Are you eating, please eat there’s so much food!” they repeated several times), I talked enthusiastically about the delicious turkey bacon and took a small piece and munched it in front of them to show my pleasure.  It seemed to satisfy them and make them happy.  I was shown the package and given detailed instructions about different brands and how to make it.  Needless to say I will never make turkey bacon.
Then it was time to sing happy birthday and for their son to blow out the candles on his cake.  Afterwards another friend of theirs helped pass out the pieces of cake as they were cut.  She was someone who also knew about my diabetes.  As she passed out the big chunks of cake, she eventually came in my direction.  She automatically held out one of the plates to me, we made eye contact, and she clearly suddenly realized/remembered about my diabetes.  In that split second I could see the awareness come into her eyes, a slight widening of panic on her expression and she jerked the plate away from me and back to her.  “Sorry,” she mumbled and hurriedly moved onto the next person.
Was she afraid I’d grab the cake like a rabid wolf and gobble it down and collapse and it’d be her fault I fell into a coma?  Was she trying to protect me from temptation - and doesn’t she realize that a 55 year old woman has access to cake any time she wants it?  I don’t need her to offer or withhold it, the decision always was and always will be mine.  And the assumption that cake is “evil” and forbidden while muffins, bagels and fruit salad are healthy is deluded, sad and at the core of why so many people are suffering from diabetes.
These days I make a point of having dessert whenever I am eating out.  Primarily because I enjoy dessert!  No, I don’t have a lot of it, and I do pick and choose the things that aren’t too high in carbs.  I’ll choose a few spoonful’s of chocolate mousse over cookies, or flourless chocolate cake over fritters, but a few bites of pretty much anything is just fine when built into a meal.  The shock, surprise and anxiety that people exhibit when I do that is pretty consistent.  I have a “rap” that I deliver to try to explain that balance and amount is everything and there’s no need for deprivation.  But I think that the old punishment mentality is so deep in people – if you have diabetes, then your punishment is to not be able to eat dessert.  I’ve had friends hear my rap, see me eat dessert, and then invite me to dinner only to proudly show me that they got me a sugar-free cake so I can enjoy dessert while they eat “real” cake.  The irony, of course, is that the number of carbs in some sugar free desserts actually exceeds those in “real” desserts.  Eventually they learn, slowly and with hesitation, but they do come around to accepting that I seem to know what I’m talking about.  Each time I have a few bites of dessert and don’t fall to the ground in a coma it seems to reinforce for them that I’m not a volatile drunk about to lose control.
When I think about the extent of the ignorance, the profound and deep need for education, I am kind of overwhelmed.  How to even begin?  I guess in my life it’s one person and one meal at a time.  But that day…that buffet…that birthday cake being snatched away like a hot potato…that is one meal I won’t forget.

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