Last night was dinner with the ‘D girls’. These three women are some of my most treasured friends, and we have come together over the years because we have external pancreases. (Pancreata?)
They have been a part of my life for over ten years now. I met them all through my work (another reason to be grateful for this job!) but the reason that we’re friends reaches far beyond diabetes.
A night out with these lovely women generally involves much raucous laughter, a lot of inappropriate comments (we think the people at the next table left the restaurant because they were so disturbed by our conversation at one point) and plotting to fix all that is wrong with the world. We share photos of our gorgeous kids – all born around the same time – and talk about our families and friends and work.
Somewhere in there, we reach into our clothes and pull out insulin pumps, or reach into our bags for BGL meters. Talk of diabetes is scarce, but there may be an occasional comment or question. It certainly doesn’t dominate our conversation though.
As it turns out, some of my nearest and dearest friends do have diabetes. But that is not the reason for the friendship. Whilst it can be acknowledged as why we met in the first place, the reason for our enduring friendship is far more than beta cells that ran out on us. The reason I am friends with these three women is because they are smart, funny, beautiful and incredibly talented. I am honoured to call them friends. I love them to pieces and admire their strength, tenacity and protectiveness.
I see the way they deal with diabetes – the complete and utter ‘eff you’ attitude and acknowledgement that it sucks, but it won’t beat them – and know that I need to be surrounded by people like this.
The commonality that brought us together may be completely and utterly crap at times. But when we’re sitting at Marios catching up, laughing, supporting each other, talking a million miles a minute, we don’t care. Because really, it’s just four girls catching up.
It’s Friday; get your weekend started with some New Orleans funk. Here’s Trombone Shorty. (Swoon!)