Confessions of a Diabetes Mom
So once again, it has been 18 months since my last post. I feel like I am in confession: "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been 18 months since my last posting..." But in reality, I can't believe this much time has passed again. Life is once again radically different for us and I am looking for a way to chronicle my journey but I can't seem to commit to writting, when so often I feel like I should just be committed!
My last post was just days after my youngest daughter's diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes, making for a total of 3 insulin-dependent diabetics in my family of 4 - a fact that I never imagined would be a reality. Frankly, I never thought we could be that unlucky, although I know genetics, not luck, really were the deciding factor. I believed that a 50/50 split was more than enough sacrifice for one family. I thought she would be spared, that I would be spared. That I would have a little refuge from our world of diabetes. Someone I could take to lunch and not have to ask, 'Did you test?' Someone I could run an errand with and not have to worry about packing a meter and a snack and getting back in time for dinner. But that didnt happen for us, and for a while I believed it was because I had hoped so deperately against it.
Most people who live with diabetes are the minortiy in their homes. Their families, though affected, can't understand how it feels. That is not the case in my house...we have our own built in support group. My girls have each other and their father to lean on, to talk to. I am a necessary - ok...critical - part of the equation but when it comes right down to it, I don't have this disease. I am the minority here. I can tell you as a wife how it feels to call 911 because your husband's bloodsugar has dropped so dangerously low that you can't help him but I can't tell you what it feels like to be low. I can tell you how hard it is to watch your daugther change a pump site and cry because the needle hurts, but I don't know what it's like to wear a pump in order to live. I am immersed in this disease but removed just enough to feel like an outsider. Sometimes my house is the loneliest place in the world. That is why sharing my feelings here - outside of my family dynamic - is so important.
Sometimes at the end of a good day, I can step back and see that this really isnt the worst thing that could happen to us...many families face greater hardship. And instead of saying 'Why my family?' I can turn it around and say 'Why not my family?' We are strong, and capable and willing to fight. We are an example of people living well with diabetes.
But even on the good days, I wish we didnt have to.
My last post was just days after my youngest daughter's diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes, making for a total of 3 insulin-dependent diabetics in my family of 4 - a fact that I never imagined would be a reality. Frankly, I never thought we could be that unlucky, although I know genetics, not luck, really were the deciding factor. I believed that a 50/50 split was more than enough sacrifice for one family. I thought she would be spared, that I would be spared. That I would have a little refuge from our world of diabetes. Someone I could take to lunch and not have to ask, 'Did you test?' Someone I could run an errand with and not have to worry about packing a meter and a snack and getting back in time for dinner. But that didnt happen for us, and for a while I believed it was because I had hoped so deperately against it.
Most people who live with diabetes are the minortiy in their homes. Their families, though affected, can't understand how it feels. That is not the case in my house...we have our own built in support group. My girls have each other and their father to lean on, to talk to. I am a necessary - ok...critical - part of the equation but when it comes right down to it, I don't have this disease. I am the minority here. I can tell you as a wife how it feels to call 911 because your husband's bloodsugar has dropped so dangerously low that you can't help him but I can't tell you what it feels like to be low. I can tell you how hard it is to watch your daugther change a pump site and cry because the needle hurts, but I don't know what it's like to wear a pump in order to live. I am immersed in this disease but removed just enough to feel like an outsider. Sometimes my house is the loneliest place in the world. That is why sharing my feelings here - outside of my family dynamic - is so important.
Sometimes at the end of a good day, I can step back and see that this really isnt the worst thing that could happen to us...many families face greater hardship. And instead of saying 'Why my family?' I can turn it around and say 'Why not my family?' We are strong, and capable and willing to fight. We are an example of people living well with diabetes.
But even on the good days, I wish we didnt have to.
posted by diabetes mom at 4:15 PM
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