It by no means occurred to me that in the future I might wake up sick and by no means get better.
But right here I am.
I have a continual illness generally known as type 1 diabetes, that considerably impairs normal activities of day by day dwelling. An invisible sickness that exhibits no outward indicators, and to the remainder of the world – I don’t look sick.
My invisible sickness can simply be hidden, as I look healthy like everyone else. A smile can easily disguise any pain or misery that I’ve skilled that day. My clothing can disguise the medical units I want to stay alive.
I never let my invisible sickness stand in my method. I’ve adapted and I know how to look after myself. I manage the best I can. More often than not I just feel like I’m on autopilot as if I’m in “control”. No one can tell what I cope with behind closed doors.
It’s when days boil over, I look pale and disorientated, and reaching for sugar close by. That’s when somebody asks “are you alright”? That’s once I say “yes, I’m okay – I’m fixing my blood sugar, it’s low“.
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