My First Day
My daughter has Type 1 diabetes. So does my husband. I know the in's and out's of it. I know the science of it. What I don't know is how to come to terms with it. Is that even possible? I need a place of my own to think and ponder and even complain. And since home isn't usually quiet enough to think, I thought maybe I'd 'think' on my lunch hour. A journal wouldn't work for me. I would constantly be critiquing my handwriting and trying to find a place to hide the book. A therapist would work, but the co-pays would get out of hand. The support group thing is ok, but I really only want to talk about me and so I've decided to find another outlet.
OK. I went to our diabetes support group on Saturday. Hannah-B went with me even though she resisted. She complained most of the day about being there. I loved it. 4 months ago I couldn't have imagined myself sitting there with a group of strangers taking about diabetes, but now I'm hooked. They get it. They get how much this sucks. But I realized that I am sort-of an anomoly there. I am the only one whose spouse is also diabetic. I have some different issues at my house to deal with. But for the most part, they understand.
We talked about needing to 'feel' the frustration of diabetes. Let yourself be angry. Let yourself cry. And I realized that I don't do that enough. I feel like I can't, to be honest. I think if I did I would never be able to move forward because it would consume me. I would let them all down. I would make Dan feel guilty. I would look weak. Like I can't handle it...I told them on Saturday, 'I can't feel it, because I have to do it'. I have to live with it - everyday. Think it's tiring to keep my kid overnight? Try doing it the 364 other days of the year. It's hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be. Try making it all seem 'normal' for her when it is so not normal. Try acting like you aren't scared to death that one night the planets will align against you, and both of them will have an insulin reaction at the same time. Who do you help first? Or that you don't spend countless nights worrying about how many times Tessie pee'd today and how much juice she drank at dinner and what if - oh God - she got it too? I can't begin to imagine the amount of tranquilizers I would need to take. These are just some of my worries.
In fact, I worry all the time. And though it is in my nature to overthink things, I blame this disease for my heightened sense of anxiety. It started long ago with Dan, back in 1998. The morning I had to call 911 because he wouldnt wake up. It became real that day, the idea that this disease could take him away. There have been plenty of other days with Dan that have shaken me to the core, days I don't even like to remember. But I know that morning - his 1st Father's Day - when he wouldnt wake up, changed me forever. It made me pull away just a little bit. So that if something bad did happen, just maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. And in some way, I know I've done that with Hannah and I fight it because I know it is so wrong but I can't help it. It's like self-preservation for me. Guarding against the 'what-if's'. But it also causes me not to live fully and freely and I hate that about myself.
OK. I went to our diabetes support group on Saturday. Hannah-B went with me even though she resisted. She complained most of the day about being there. I loved it. 4 months ago I couldn't have imagined myself sitting there with a group of strangers taking about diabetes, but now I'm hooked. They get it. They get how much this sucks. But I realized that I am sort-of an anomoly there. I am the only one whose spouse is also diabetic. I have some different issues at my house to deal with. But for the most part, they understand.
We talked about needing to 'feel' the frustration of diabetes. Let yourself be angry. Let yourself cry. And I realized that I don't do that enough. I feel like I can't, to be honest. I think if I did I would never be able to move forward because it would consume me. I would let them all down. I would make Dan feel guilty. I would look weak. Like I can't handle it...I told them on Saturday, 'I can't feel it, because I have to do it'. I have to live with it - everyday. Think it's tiring to keep my kid overnight? Try doing it the 364 other days of the year. It's hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be. Try making it all seem 'normal' for her when it is so not normal. Try acting like you aren't scared to death that one night the planets will align against you, and both of them will have an insulin reaction at the same time. Who do you help first? Or that you don't spend countless nights worrying about how many times Tessie pee'd today and how much juice she drank at dinner and what if - oh God - she got it too? I can't begin to imagine the amount of tranquilizers I would need to take. These are just some of my worries.
In fact, I worry all the time. And though it is in my nature to overthink things, I blame this disease for my heightened sense of anxiety. It started long ago with Dan, back in 1998. The morning I had to call 911 because he wouldnt wake up. It became real that day, the idea that this disease could take him away. There have been plenty of other days with Dan that have shaken me to the core, days I don't even like to remember. But I know that morning - his 1st Father's Day - when he wouldnt wake up, changed me forever. It made me pull away just a little bit. So that if something bad did happen, just maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. And in some way, I know I've done that with Hannah and I fight it because I know it is so wrong but I can't help it. It's like self-preservation for me. Guarding against the 'what-if's'. But it also causes me not to live fully and freely and I hate that about myself.
posted by diabetes mom at 5:00 PM
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