Chronic Illness and Relationships, hosted by AADE’s 2008-2009 educator of the year, Janis Roszler!

It’s happening from 8pm to 9pm EST on Wednesday, February 24th.  That’s tomorrow.  Or most likely hours from now as you’re reading this.  Please support this great topic, and tell me all about what you learned from attending!

Also, remember, I’m still looking for your stories of dating woe and happiness, weird diabetic date moments, and candid accounts of sexy stuff.  I’m always looking for words from you guys, so send them already!  Remember, it always feels good to talk it out.

xoxo,

Mistress D.

*****

Rainbow says:

My ex-girlfriend loved to play “food police.” Not only would she lecture me over every little thing I ate, but she would go online to all the forums she subscribed to and report everything I ate: “Rainbow ate an ENTIRE ice cream cone!” or “Rainbow ate a piece of CAKE!” and “Rainbow is such a bad diabetic! She’s gonna DIE!”

Then she decided that she herself had to lose weight, and since I was a diabetic (a very thin one, but still a diabetic) she decided that I had to lose weight too. Her idea to lose weight was “not eat anything after four o’clock in the afternoon.” And if I was spending the weekend at her place, that meant that I wasn’t supposed to eat anything after that time either. When I refused to follow that “diet” plan, she would exile me to a corner of the kitchen where she couldn’t see me, and I had to eat in hiding so that she wouldn’t be tempted.

Needless to say, that relationship did not last long.

I don’t know about you, but I am in agreement with her perspective.  Having a pump has never affected my sex life negatively.  I’d like to remind everyone out there that the sexiest thing in the world is being healthy and being there for your partner.  Enjoy Casey’s story!

xoxo,

Mistress D

****

Thinking about our sex life makes me smile and blush. My husband is the most amazing man. If I told you the details, which I won’t, they would mean nothing to you. You can’t feel the emotion behind the details I that I feel.

Before I got my purple pump, our love making was wonderful. If anyone ever saw us, there would be no hint of Diabetes.

I won’t lie. There is one, only one, time when my blood sugar dropped low while we were intimate. I remember being embarrased and not even telling him. I learned to check before we would start. It was just part of our routine, just like putting a condom on. You might grimace a bit, but you know these actions are worth it to be able to not worry while focusing intently on your spouses body, movement, heart, and mind. As our marriage has grown, I have learned a lot about being a wife, about being part of a loving team. I don’t hide the lows anymore.

When I discussed the pump with my husband, I asked him if he would still be attracted to me with a visible reminder of Diabetes. This was a hard discussion for me to initiate. But it was needed. He shared his questions and thoughts. I was reminded that he actually does love me. He is an amazing man. I am a very lucky woman.

Now that I have my purple pump, our love making is wonderful. If anyone ever saw us, the focus wouldn’t be on my infusion site.

I still check my glucose and now I follow that up with a quick disconnect. The infusion site is still there. But it hasn’t gotten in the way once. I enjoy the disconnected time, but not because I am disconnected. I enjoy the time because I get to choose to be connected to my husband. We get to take our emotional loving connection and make it physical. No piece of plastic could interfere with that.

When I think about my memories of our love making, I think about the smell of the room, the heat from our bodies, the sounds of our movement, the rapid heart beats, the excited smiles, the whispered words and the love that takes a physical form.

The fact that it took me an extra minute or two to check my glucose and disconnect, is forgotten as soon as it is done. Forgotten along with the other details like kicking the cat out of the area and unwrapping the condom. All are necessary and may delay us by a little bit. But each of those actions make the love making better, safer, and possible. I haven’t forgotten once to reconnect. The pump is where I left it and can just reach over to grab it. I can stay in his arms or come right back to them.

“Tethered to the Body” by Jane Kokernak is what I find to be a rather frank look at one person’s perspective of sex with an insulin pump.  Quite honestly, it is not my approach to sex with an insulin pump, and I was most affected by how engaged I was by a viewpoint so much different from my own.  If you didn’t click the first link in this paragraph, make sure you click this one here to go read the full article.

Now a bit of commentary if you’ve already read the article…

This line nearly broke me in half:

“I will never become the sexual self that the youthful me once imagined: whole, extraordinary, and seductively bare. That is a loss.”

Perhaps I am a different breed of woman, a different kind of person with diabetes.  I’ve had an insulin pump for many years now.  In fact, I have never known sex without an insulin pump.  I do not feel a burden when I detach for intimacy.  I’ve never felt that it stifles my sexual interests or creativity any more than other momentary diversions–leg cramps, difficult bra clasps, opening of condom wrappers.  Maybe detaching my tubing has become some weird form of foreplay for me!

Sure, there are moments where NOT having a pump would make sex easier, but I am perfectly happy and not terribly bittersweet to have my little plastic pancreas there with me.  A healthier me is a sexier me, right?  That’s how I see it.  Everyone with diabetes is different.  We all have vastly differing thoughts and feelings, even in shared experiences.  Please take a moment to consider sharing some of your thoughts and experiences by submitting a story to Sweet & Sexy today.  Use the info up top to submit…it’s easy.

xoxo,

Mistress D.

Was your holiday season a whirlwind rush of activity?  Mine certainly was, between family, friends, those I love…whew, it’s a wonder I’m still kicking after all of that, let alone back to blogging, working, and the routine of non-holiday time.

Remember that we still need your submissions.  I received a few before the holiday that are going to be published very soon.  I determined how to schedule my blog postings, so this is going to get a lot easier, I hope.

kisses,

Mistress D

Please please please submit some stories, story ideas, blog posts, anecdotes, WHATEVER.

I think this blog will be dull and definitely not community-minded without some submissions.  Remember, submissions can be entirely anonymous!  It’s as easy as making up a name for yourself or entering some initial or just writing “anonymous”.

Tell us about a good diabetes dating experience.  Tell us about a complete trainwreck.  Tell us your dreams, your fears, your hopes.  Tell us about when fights in your relationship become fights over diabetes.  Anything goes, really.

Check those little tabs at the top of the page there and start submitting already!

all the love in the d-blog world,

Mistress D.

Due to this, I refuse to write a real post today.  Instead, I encourage you guys to submit your work!  If you’re looking for a little inspiration, here are some suggestions:

When did you tell your new partner about your diabetes, and how did they react?

If you and your partner were together before diabetes, what was their reaction?

Do you have trouble finding people to date because of your diabetes?

Actually, another great thing you can to do to keep this blog going is to use the same anonymous submission form up there and tell me about what you want to see regarding diabetes, love, sex, dating, and relationships.  Do you want an advice column?  Do you just want to read personal stories?  And what about?  What have you always wanted to know but have been afraid to ask?

Your input is vital…we want you to keep coming back for more, so what would you like from us?

thank you (*sneezing fit*),

Mistress D.

Today we proudly present our first-ever reader-submitted piece, and it seems important to put it up before Halloween is too far from our memories.  This story is suggestive, so younger readers beware!  Mmm, chocolates. I know I’m still noshing naughtily on the candy I purchased at 50% off on November 2nd. So very bolus-worthy. How about you? –Mistress D.

CANDY KISSES by The Green M

***Flickering candlelight, torches. Grotesque faces toothily grin as you are seated at the table. Shadows, shades around you; the lights are dimmed. The show begins.***

One by one, or in pairs, deliciously attired, they begin their slow, seductive dance. Kiss in her silver cocoon, Mary Jane the schoolgirl who clings to you like peanut butter. Dove is dark, a chocolate girl. Her creamy skin suggests a deep, velvety sweetness within.

They move towards you, chanting and dancing, flashing the colors of their breakaway wrappers as they flirt around you, arousing you with their delicious odors. Butterscotch, in her translucent yellow wrap. Treasure, decked out in gold lamé. Bit o’ Honey, a tiny thing in a dark maillot. They flash through a field of candy corn, orange and yellow, as the candles burn around you.

“I’m Ruth,” one of them tells you. “They call me ‘Baby’ ‘cos I’m new. Bite me,” she says, as her white robe crinkles back and you stare at brown skin, ready to melt. She thrusts her tongue into your gaping mouth. She’s sweet; you taste chocolate and peanuts as she settles around you. With each swirl of chocolate over your tongue, you come closer to a high you barely remember. The more she swirls, the more you respond back, squeezing with your lips, teasing with your teeth and your cheeks, tasting her peanutty caramel sweetness, until finally you reach a moment of euphoria, when she has come entirely in to you. Amazed, you swallow, and she disappears.

You want more.

And the girls are waiting.

Despite the rush, you are ready to go again, unsatisfied with just that taste of chocolate and caramel. One by one, they come to you, peel back their wrappers, and thrust themselves upon you. At first you taste them, savor them, and regret when each one disappears — but soon you are so worked up and excited that you can’t get them fast enough. Your pace increases, and they keep coming at you — one, two, three, or more at a time, teasing with hints of sticky red sweetness and slippery brown cream, revealing themselves, and allowing themselves to be consumed.

Just when you think you can’t get enough of them, your head starts to pound. An alarm is going off in the distance, but growing louder. Is it the police? a raid? The candles burn so bright that you think the place is on fire. You scream, compounding the headache, and try to move as quickly as you can — but your limbs are lead and you’re tied down to that chair, thrashing and trying to escape…

“Are you OK?” you hear. The voice sounds familiar, but far away. It comes closer. You feel someone shaking you, but you can’t see anyone… You blink once, twice… finally on the third try, a fuzzy face appears.

“You’ve been beeping the last half hour.”

“Cripe. Let me see that.” You fumble for the source of the noise, digging through piles and piles of rumpled bits of cellophane and foil until your fingers find the rubbery oval casing. Carefully, you ease it out and try to read its display.

“Hi!” it says.

“Oh, $#!†!” you answer, trying to disentangle yourself from the pump tubing and find the controller without yanking out the set. Fat chance of doing that: the bloody end is dragging through that pile of detritus. Dried brown stains dot the sheets as you feel for the disconnected end through a mess of test-strip-shaped papers with the word “Hershey” written in blue block letters.

“I didn’t — did I?” you ask your companion.

Then you look across at the nightstand. The loot bag is empty.

***Trick or treat!***

Before you start tripping over yourself to find reasons why diabetes should keep you from a happy, healthy dating life, just do the following: Stop. Take a breath. Take a cue from SNL’s old character Stewart Smalley and say it, “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.” That kind of negative attitude really pushes my buttons. If you think you’ll never find a satisfying relationship due to your diabetes, you need to stop that self-sabotaging attitude you have, pronto. Do your friends treat you like less of a friend because of The Big D? Do your co-workers tell you diabetes makes you bad at your job? (Psst…if they do, that’s illegal!)

Dating with diabetes is not only possible, but many of us have been rather successful with it. If you’re a regular reader of diabetes blogs, you’ll know plenty of bloggers who are already married, many of them to people who have never known them without diabetes as a part of life. People like George from The B.A.D. Blog, Kerri from SixUntilMe, Hannah from Dorkabetic, and Gina from DiabetesTalkfest.

“But Mistress D,” you’re whining to me now, “those are just a handful of truly lucky people. Who’s going to love meee?” Well, I can assure you right now that you are no less needle-poked, pill-popping, or glucose-challenged than other people with diabetes who are dating, in long-term relationships, married or otherwise domestically partnered. I think finding a date is all about your attitude, regardless of any health conditions which you perceive as barriers to your heart.

Amy T. of DiabetesMine actually broached the same subject of dating with diabetes quite some time ago. The comments to her post are what I find to be the most intriguing and infuriating. One commenter, Sarah, says a couple of things which not only make me especially sad, but also somewhat angry. Excerpted from her lengthy comment:

“I am quite physically attractive and (so they say) smart. If I was “average” I doubt I would have ever found a DECENT guy to stay with me. Most guys are willing to date me, but few can actually deal with the stress of diabetes…

Most Type 1 diabetics I know have had to settle for a less attractive or financially stable partner, or are outright rejected from long-term relationships. The exceptions to this are when the Type 1 is exceptionally good looking and/or accomplished.

This is only my experience and insight, so no one can disagree with what I have seen.”

I am so sorry that this had to happen to Sarah this way. Sure, there are assholes out there who are going to use your being sick as an excuse to break things off, or maybe there are people who are truly terrified to really get to know someone, just because they are “unhealthy”. Yet in my dating life, I’ve always been able to stick with men I’ve found attractive, and they weren’t weirded out by Type 1 diabetes at all. In fact, they’ve been curious about it if I approach it the right way.

Maybe you don’t want to tell someone the nitty gritty details of a day in the life with diabetes on your first date, but here’s a bottom line I think every person dating with diabetes needs to embrace: Love me; Accept my diabetes. You don’t need to love my diabetes. Hell, I don’t even love my diabetes–most days, I want to tell it to piss off–but it’s a fact of my life.

Love me: Accept my diabetes. It’s not going anywhere, and you can find someone who appreciates this fact. Someone who can celebrate your victories and comfort you during the bad times. That person is out there. (Or people, if you prefer a non-monogamous lifestyle!) They should bring you juice when you’re low and put up with your all-night pee-fests when you’re too high. They should love you for you.

That person is out there, the possibly elusive guy/girl who dates diabetics. Stay positive!

To avoid using a cliche, I will make up something for you:

You have to sample a lot of sugar-free candies before you find the one that doesn’t make you feel icky inside.