So many flashes in the dark; so many tales of good fortune that could lie ahead. Some feel real - you can almost allow yourself to daydream how it could be. How much time you'd then have. How much freedom you'd feel.
When the life you've been presented gives you reason after reason to give up, and seemingly throws obstacles at every turn, it is difficult to maintain that very important, yet fragile emotion: hope.
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It's easy to be pessimistic.
It's not that the research isn't cool, or that nothing will actually come of it - it may. There are too many smart people working passionately and with all their hearts for it to be any other way. What drags it through the mud is often the messaging:
"There is no reason this can't be in a real-world setting within five years."
"Our mission is to eradicate diabetes by {pick a year}."
"This technology is five to ten years away."
Putting a timestamp on something with so many moving parts is a dangerous practice, and I wish it would end. If you don't know, don't say. There are situations where theatrics, hype, and overselling have a place, but here? Never. Give me a reason to be interested, and then blow me out of the water with what you come up with. Don't tease me with grand, emotional claims. Don't tell me how close you think it is. Show me, and let me be the judge (and cheerleader).
Despite how I feel now, I refuse to let anger and pessimism paint the colors of my carrot. What do I chose instead?
Cautious optimisim, with a healthy dash of realism.
Yes! Exactly!
ReplyDeleteI love this.
ReplyDeleteAnd you.
Well said, my friend. :]
My thoughts on this, and I commented this on the "teaser" blog yesterday, is that my life is good. I don't *need* a cure to be happy. Sure, it would be nice, but I'm doing just fine right now, bottled insulin and all. So how can I be upset if things stay the way they are? I'll despair if things get worse, but not for apparent false promises of things getting better.
ReplyDeleteYou said it perfectly. :)
ReplyDeleteAwesome Post. So true, So true.
ReplyDeleteVery well written, Kim. Here's to maintaining that hope with all the promise of what's happening and what can, and keeping it all in perspective with realism.
ReplyDeletewell said, my friend.
ReplyDeleteSomebody called me a Negative Nancy yesterday for thinking that there probably wouldn't be a cure within the next 10 years. I kind of want to show her this post and Kelly's post and just be like "It's not being negative, it's being realistic." And I would much rather say there won't be a cure in 10 years and be wrong, than to say there will be a cure in 10 years and be wrong.
ReplyDeleteI like your last sentence, it's so true!
Deleteyou said what i wish i thought. you're smart.
ReplyDeleteprobably like a lot of readers, your title made me think you were going to say your baby is now the size of a carrot.
That sounds like it would be painful. ;)
DeleteI wholeheartedly agree! Anger gets us nowhere. I won't be angry...but I can't stop the disappointment from seeping in.
ReplyDeleteMy mother always told me to count my blessings and not to look at the things I wish I had.
ReplyDeleteIn nature I am a positive person, but I can understand your feelings completely.
by the way.... I am not so crazy about carrots :-)
Eddie
I loved this. It sums me up in a little box with a ribbon tied around it.
ReplyDeleteDon't tease me with the prospect of a "cure" unless you have one. I am living just fine and happily without a cure. As long as I have my insulin, carb counting skills, and regular exercise I am doing just fine keeping my "D" in it's place.
Take your time and get it exactly right medical community.