It’s Halloween. All of the kiddies have come for their candy and gone away happy. Well, not all of them; we did run out of candy at 7:15 and had to turn off the porch light before everybody in the neighborhood got their goodies. Sorry, urchins.
None of the kids had particularly scary costumes. The closest was probably the Yankees player, who hoped that his team would win tonight. It’s a tough town to do that, and the young Anakin Skywalker behind him kept chanting “Go Phillies!” and hitting “Jeter” on the back of the head with his light-saber.
Anyway, Halloween seems like a perfect time to talk about things that scare me. Most of these aren’t “scare me to death” fears; many are just scary enough to give me pause before doing something — and occasionally an excuse not to do anything at all. You see, I’m actually kinda chickenshit when it comes to doing new things. But I (usually) try them anyway.
Currently, these things make my skin crawl or get my ‘fraidy juices flowing:
- Vampires. Seriously. Not the Kiefer Sutherland, Lost Boys kind. No, I mean the foolishly stay up all night to finish Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot while home alone in middle school kind. *whimper*
- Norman Bates, from Psycho.
- Heights, especially when I could accidentally cause someone else to take a tumble.
- Going blind.
- Doing things where I could fail or look stupid.
- Having hypoglycemia at an embarrassing time, like while giving a presentation to a bunch of people.
- Having a hypo while exercising, especially in the water.
- Losing my job and/or health insurance.
- Running out of insulin (or misplacing it) while traveling.*
Some consequences of these fears include not going all the way out to the edge of the canyon for the best photograph and smelling like garlic all the time (just kidding). Another result has been that I’ve tended to “accept” higher blood glucose readings than I would like. Getting the confidence to stay within the target/acceptable range involves staring down my fears. That’s something I’m working on these days.
* – This has happened . . . . twice. On our fifth or sixth day in India, I left a month’s worth of insulin in our mini-bar fridge. Fortunately, a staff member of the hotel came running after us to the train station to return it. Dodged a major bullet there.
And then earlier this month, I forget to check how much insulin I had in my day-to-day diabetes kit before departing for a long weekend in Kansas. I didn’t have enough to get through the full four days of the trip. Eventually I was able to get it refilled at Wal*Mart.