Today was the first day of the winter quarter. I got to sleep around midnight and from three AM until around four thirty I slept in fifteen minutes bursts. Finally I decided to check my blood sugar. It was 256. Yuck. I got up, took some Novolog, went to the bathroom, laid down. Got up for the day at five thirty. Took Lantus.
Before my first class, at eight, I checked my blood sugar, in the lower 200s. I injected.
Before my second class, around eleven, I checked my blood sugar, around 200. I injected- two units Novolog.
My third class was Mainstreaming In Education: Including Special Needs Children in the General Classroom. Right up my alley, right? The professor opened by asking us to ask him whatever we wanted to about him. I asked him about whether he identifies as learning or otherwise disabled (short answer is yes, as ADD). A classmate asked him about his hobbies and he said he cooks. Another classmate asked if he could bring food in for the class. He said maybe as a potluck. I said, a potluck might be a good way to get to talk about mainstreaming kids with celiac sprue. Somebody else said, Yeah, or a peant allergy!
My professor then got thoughtful and said that yes, food in the school could be a special needs issue.
He talked about about a diabetic student. He started to describe diabetes and at first his description, though not precisely accurate, was good enough for me. It was a fairly typical description from a person who knows a couple diabetics. Then he said that juvenile diabetes is a hereditary condition that people are born with.
So I interrupted and said that actually, it's an autoimmune disorder that people are not born with; that the rare cases where people are born with diabetes is strictly speaking not type 1. My professor asked me a few questions about diabetes and I answered them to the best of my knowledge, though as briefly as possible.
Then guess what? I felt hypo. Not wanting to look like testing my blood sugar was making a point, I tested as inconspicuously as I could. 69. I pulled out a twizzler and ate it.
Later in class, we were talking about our experiences dealing with people with disabilities. I said that I identify as multiply disabled, that I'm involved in disability advocacy, and that I prefer the company of disabled people. My professor said that that's great. He told the class that people with disability have a voice- a loud voice, he said. He said that I (Jonah) will be speaking with that voice.
I hope I can remember to always make it clear that my opinions are NOT shared by all disabled people.