Friday, April 13, 2007

The D Card

I have several memories that stay in the forefront of my mind when I think back to my family vacation to Europe a few years back. One is the image of Big Big cat-calling a large group of Italian men hanging out on the Ponte Vecchio... “Hey Guys! Whatcha doing later? ME??” she shouted at the confused but intrigued gaggle of Vinnys. The other is how many times my mother did what Alabaster and I came to refer to as “playing the D card”.

My mother has Diabetes. Now, I would never dream of mocking or belittling this ridiculous disease, but all I remember, all around Europe, was her constantly saying “We have to eat. I have diabetes.” “You have to seat us before these other people. I have diabetes.” “We need our food immediately. I have diabetes.” “We need to go back to the Prada outlet. I have diabetes.” It was insane. I dont know very much about diabetes, but from what I could tell, it’s the medical term for a person afflicted with a crippling need to get stuff the second they ask for it.

Now, we all have our own respective "cards". I often play the "J" card... like when I want a discount at Barney's, or when I want to accuse a major corporation of anti-semitism rather than pay whatever bills I owe them. But Man, my mom just took the cake. She had to. She has diabetes.

I hadn’t thought about that trip, or how often my mother played the D card until today when I had coffee with my mom. She opened her wallet to pay for our skim lattes... and thats when I discovered.... she actually HAS an ACTUAL D card. (see above)

In her wallet, amid drivers licences of her dead relatives, myriad credit cards, and frequent buyers cards from every store known to Jews... there it was; a diabetic alert card. I laughed so hard I almost cried. I begged her to give it to me, but she viciously refused. This thing is freaking brilliant. I NEED one.

Let’s take a look at it together... “I am not intoxicated” Ignore the slurred speech, the stumbling around, the humping peoples legs, making out with women and bottle of tequila in my hand... it’s totally just the diabetes.

“If I am able to swallow, give me sugar in some form”. First of all, I think my mother had a tee shirt that said this same exact thing LONG before the onset of diabetes. Secondly.... what’s the chain of events that occurs between discovering a semi-unconcious person, and realizing that they are able to swallow? What kind of “testing” are you doing to determine this exactly?

Needless to say, I will be dedicating the rest of my day to photo shopping my own D card. Mine will include the lesser know facts about insulin shock, such as instructing the reader to insert a black Amex in my mouth so I don’t swallow my tongue, giving me something that containsf sugar such as vodka, valium and gift cards.... and leaving money in my bra so I can buy some "sugar" for myself when I regain consciousness.