If I had a dime for every piece of advice received , by well meaning individuals, about how to ‘handle’ Frankie’s diabetes I would not lose sleep over how I was going to pay for insulin and medical supplies.
I know- I knew absolutely nothing about diabetes before August 23, 2010 at 1:47pm-the time of diagnosis—but I venture to say, I would not have added my two cents about it back then either. Maybe I would have—shame on me.
Living with diabetes is hard. Every day I paste a smile on my face & pretend this disease can be ‘controlled’ or ‘managed.’ Truth—it’s a crap shoot. There may be a growth spurt, hormone flux, stress, or a change in the weather that will whack out the medical management plan. The earth rotating around the sun—may whack out the medical management plan. Excitement over a new set of lego’s, an upcoming party, trying out for basketball- may whack out the medical management plan. So we stay alert. We pretend we are Marcus Welby MD and adjust insulin doses like we are changing our socks…and we pray. We pray that WE DON”T SCREW IT UP!
We pray he moves when we do an overnight check of his glucose level. We pray he wakes up in the morning. We pray that he will not be one more statistic that this disease ‘gets.’
We pretend. This is easy. We got this. He can be all, do all, and the world is his oyster. He believes, and that is our goal. He believes that all is possible—and we work to make that true.
For all the well meaning people, strangers mostly, who come upon me buying insulin at the pharmacy or glucose tabs at the grocery store—who speak about cinnamon cures and herbs from the South Seas—before you speak—remember this is my son. My son- who I would walk on hot coals for, lay down my life for, and absolutely take away this disease from him- if I only could.
If I had a dime, I’d use it to find a cure.