An Ode to the Medic Alert Bracelet
We’ve never liked each other very much, have we?
From the day that nurse with diabetes came to visit me in the hospital, showing me one of your siblings in the hopes of altering my enthusiasm towards the initial idea of you.
The initial idea of you branding me as a diabetic. Labelling me, for the whole world to see. Marking me with a permanent reminder of the condition that I will be stuck with for the rest of my life.
I’ve tried. I really have.
But you annoy me. Your expanda band sticks to my skin. I can’t help but fidget with you. ALL THE TIME. My wrist feels trapped, and suffocated every single time I have you on.
You leave my Mum and Dad’s words ringing in my ears.
“But it could save your life!”
I convince myself that it will never happen to me. An accident.
I convince myself that I’ll at least be conscious enough to utter the words “diabetes” if I ever find myself on the stretcher in an ambulance.
“But it could save your life!”
The words keep ringing in my ear. So much so, that I’m driven enough to wear you when I go out for long drives on my own. And on aeroplanes. You know, where an accident is more likely to happen…
But we’re still not able to make it work.
“What about a necklace?” You ask.
“What about something fancier?” The catalogue, filled with your dressed up children and cousins teases.
To be fair, jewellery annoys me too. And I hate having my pockets weighted down with anything that isn’t necessary.
But I am trying. I really am.
After committing to a watch in 2016, I felt motivated enough to replace your expanda band with a curb chain. It was a mild improvement. But not enough to actually wear you.
After leaving you in plain sight on my chest of drawers for months, I’ve finally decided that a New Year is as good an opportunity as any to make more of an effort to wear you in 2017.
I’m trying to see the good in you.
Won’t you be kind to me?