D-blog week Day 6: Favorites and Motivations.
This blog started in a hospital room, right after diagnosis in the ER.
I didn’t know there was a DOC. I just felt scared and off-kilter and like writing, and like making it public. And I felt like I needed artist Graham Roumieu to help me. I hated the hospital’s Pink Panther book and thought it should instead be a Graham Roumieu Bigfoot book explaining the diabetes things. Roumieu’s books all make me laugh. The Pink Panther book made me feel like I’d been molested.
Graham Roumieu’s Bigfoot is the anti Pink Panther. I hated that book so much. Did I mention I hated it? The tone is so urine-soaked and smug and “you better get used to it.” A Bigfoot version’s tone would be more like “The fuck?”
That was the motivation: the combo of fear, a loopy off-kilter feeling, and wanting Graham Roumieu to write more Bigfoot books, preferably one wherein Bigfoot gets Type 1 diabetes.
Soon after diagnosis, I contacted Graham Roumieu to say I was trying to write in his Bigfoot’s voice on a blog about diabetes. Ostensibly, this was to get his blessing, but one corner of my heart was hoping he would say That is incredible. I was just diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes myself, and really need a writing partner to help me come up with some stories, but I want them to be excruciatingly specific so hardly anyone will be able to relate to them. Can you help me with that? That did not happen. He did, however, say it was ok with him if I kept going, as long as I didn’t sell T-shirts or anything.
By the time we were out of the hospital, I knew there was a DOC because I found Kerri’s blog (<–vintage link!) And I was like, OK, so there’s me, fresh from the hospital, and then there’s this other lady, who appears to have been writing for some time now.
Soon after that, I discovered I could click on the comments on SUM to find more blogs. Wow! Sometimes they would be religious or play treacly music, or be so…oh, let me inspire you! But there were also fun ones that rang true to me.
Or what about this guest post on SUM, which felt like seeing my future, where my bewildered sadness might morph into something more functional and hopeful, although still sad.
And more recently this post.
You know the feeling like: ohhhh, these people! Wheeeee! I love this! But wait! That’s terrible! I shouldn’t be having fun. But I was.
It’s like certain countries, say country X, you might go to for Peace Corps: terrrrrrible, but you meet the funniest people who hate being in country X in exactly the same way. You all can hardly wait to get outta X, I mean at least to get some nachos, or a shower, but at the same time, it’s a complete riot to be trapped—have they brought us to a horse breeding facility?—with these guys who look about eighty but are 35 and have golden teeth—Wait. Why are we here?—and just as one Golden Tooth hands you a sheep’s face in a shallow bowl, you make eye contact does he want me to eat this? with a Peace Corps friend who says “Right on, Maude,” and years later whenever you see a picture of Bea Arthur (happens less than once a year so you’re always caught off guard) you’ll get the same giddy sheep face feeling. Or—back in X—you’re walking around your broken village and you fall into a hole and a group of teenage boys starts throwing clods of dirt down at you and saying Fuck you, America! Columbia Pictures! And it’s so awful and scary but you are partly enjoying it because despite the fear of being killed in the hole, all of the teen boys are wearing identical argyle sweaters, and sunglasses with the tags still attached, and you know your friends will just gobble up the story.
Some days I don’t need this blog for anything other than organizing recipes I want to remember. Other times new diabetes things happen, or old ones happen with a new rub. I say more when feeling wounded or confused and dramatic. But I slip into the Bigfoot voice less and less frequently. I never nailed it, and at this point, I feel human pretty much all of the time.
Tomorrow is the last day for DBW2015!