Inanimate Objects
The toaster I’ve used for decades was ‘retired’ this week. My sister gave us this new toaster for Christmas and I’ve resisted the enthusiastic efforts from my wife and son to make a change.
Why?
Starting in my 20s, most days started with two pieces of bread in the toaster and then topped with peanut butter. I’d give my morning insulin and eat the peanut butter toast 15-30 minutes later. It became a reliable and consistent way to start the day. Toasted bread with peanut butter was easy and it worked for my morning blood sugar and energy levels.
Rationally, I understand the benefits of a new toaster … it doesn’t burn toast like my old one (it produced some impressive smoke!) and has these fancy claws that close on the bread so it doesn’t get stuck (thick bread would almost never make its’ way out of my old toaster without help).
But I am attached to that old toaster … there were a few mornings I woke up so low that I crawled to it. I’ve been through a lot with that toaster. It’s been reliable when I wasn’t. As I type this, I wonder if I’ve gone a bit crazy.
I believe it’s all good as items that serve us well are worth the attachment. They become more than inanimate objects. As they make us better (especially our diabetes) they are worth keeping (*).
Turns out I’ve been attached to a other ‘inanimate objects’ that helped my way with type 1. They include preferred blood meters, insulin pens and pumps.
(*) No way could I let go of that toaster that served me well for decades. For now, it’s on display in my home office as a reminder of its’ influence in getting my days started the right way.
