Gotta have faith

Faith....in humanity...and in the general public has been challenged here as of late. The tragedies that have transpired over the last week have been heart breaking and gut wrenching, completely senseless and make me ache for those so closely affected.

The trust I have in the public has also been challenged in a "people of Walmart" kind of way, too. My new gig as a clinical trainer for a diabetes alert dog service organization has put me somewhat in the spotlight in my small community. Having a gorgeous dog or puppy, in a vest, as my constant companion has invited some interesting interactions while visiting different establishments.
"Is that your seeing eye dog???" As I'm holding my latte, a new bathing suit and bottle of vitamins at Target.
"Is your DOG diabetic!?" Yep, he also wears a tiny insulin pump.
"If I pet your dog, will it bite me??" Indeed, that's why I brought him here.
"Why can't your dog tell me if I have diabetes?" I'm pretty sure that giant Big Red you're drinking with your gut hanging out tells me you have diabetes.
"Paying that much for a service dog is why our country is in a financial crisis" -_-

Don't get me wrong, any opportunity I have to educate people about diabetes alert dogs is a good thing. But please just consider asking generalized questions.....instead of jumping to conclusions and saying asinine things that in no way make sense, or that possibly offend others.
It very much goes along with the stupid shit that people say about type 1:
"Did your mom feed you too much candy as a kid?"
"You/your kid will grow out of that, right??"
"My grandmother had diabetes, and had her leg cut off, and then she died a horrible death..." {thanks for your story of hope and encouragement, asshat}
"My 17 year old cat has diabetes....you should look at the diet plan I have her on"
"You know...if you ate more kale and came to see my chiropractor, you could totally get off of insulin all together" {yeahhhhh, my chiropractor is definitely on the forefront of type 1 diabetes cure treatments...right, Karly???}
The list goes on and on, and I know each and every one of you has anecdotes of your own. It is ALWAYS my first instinct to be an asshole to these people, but then I take a deep breath, bite down on that Xanax I was hiding in my cheek, and know that God wants me to use my powers for GOOD. Educate. Tell them you're less than 5% of the diabetic population. Tell them that nothing will get you off of insulin, short of a transplant. And tell them that while you're super sorry about their grandmother/cat/aunt/rotted off toe, that you're doing great and hope for a better, healthier future.

Please approach me if I have a dog. I'd love to share the good word of DADs and their super powers. Ask thoughtful questions, rub their chin and admire their awesoemness. Just don't say idiotic things, or I will straight up call you out on my blog!
Ahhhhhh, the power of social media.

Please feel free to share YOUR unfortunate diabetical interactions, below...we all need a good laugh.