I try to be positive about the whole pancreas situation. No point in whinging, much better to just get on with it. There are however two* occasions when I allow myself a luxurious lament. The first is a short, sharp blast of anger whenever it comes to the laborious task of getting together the ridiculous amount of diabetes junk required whenever I travel.
The second is a three yearly event that invokes an irrationally strong response to something that my logical brain knows is correct. What provokes this fit of fury? The letter from the DVLA informing me that my driving licence is due to expire and I must fill in a million forms to make sure I am still fit to drive.
My logical brain says that this is a very good idea. Of course we don’t want half blind, hypo diabetics careering all over our roads unable to detect how hard they’re pushing the accelerator because the nerves in their feet have gone to sleep and living on the brink of a heart attack in the fast lane of the M6. I get that. If I worked for the DVLA I would do the same.
Somehow though its different when you’re the one having to reapply for your licence. Then the letter from the DVLA incites lengthy rants to friends, family and the internet about how ridiculous it is that everybody else can hold a driving licence until they’re virtually dead and not have anyone snooping into their medical business.
Nevertheless a few of weeks ago I got over my little strop and filled in the form. Yes I can see, no I don’t hypo randomly without warning, here is my Dr’s name, address and inside leg measurement etc, etc. And today we celebrate because I have a lovely new driving licence and my next driving related huff is not due until October 2013. Now what else can I get irrationally irritated about in the meantime?
*I’ve just remembered, I also get pretty irritated when my GP gets my repeat prescription wrong. I’m going to stop thinking about this now as I fear this list of gripes and groans is only going to get longer.