Do you ever feel like you are just going through the motions? Like you are just on auto-pilot...waking up in the morning feeling the exact same way you felt the day before...doing the exact same things you did...one foot in front of the other...same thing...never ending...trapped in a continuous loop of mundane monotony? Do you ever feel like you have reached that point where you are losing sight of the big picture and seem to be stuck....in a rut....of just "getting by"?
Yea, me too....
Sometimes I find myself checking Emma's blood sugar at night and seeing a number that isn't so good....knowing in my head that I should be sighing and trudging downstairs to get juice to fix it....knowing I should be feeling this sense of urgency and this panic...and yet, I feel nothing. I stare at that number and it is just a number....just one more number in the millions of numbers I have seen on that little screen...one more number that needs to be different...one more number that needs to be fixed...one more number that I can add to the list. Sometimes i find myself having gone the whole day while she is at school without having said a single word. I am stuck in that land of knowing that I have to get things done....and yet I don't want to...I just want to take care of myself for once and curl up on the couch and forget that I even know what the word diabetes means.
I must sound like the world's most selfish person saying that....and now I feel bad for even thinking it....but it's true. I'm not perfect...I have flaws. Sometimes I just want to sit down and do nothing. Sometimes I can feel myself slipping over that edge....knowing that if I let go, I will be stuck in that rut forever....not wanting to be stuck...not wanting to have to find my way back out again...but still having that threatening presence there looming over me nonetheless. Sometimes I'm just tired. Tired enough that I don't want to fight anymore...I don't want to hold on to the edge...I just want to let go.
Then I see my daughter's face....and I know that she doesn't now and will never have that option of just letting go. She will have this battle forever...long after I am the captain of her pancreas team. She doesn't have a choice. It is her disease....not mine. In the grand scheme of things, I will have this fight for such a short amount of time....just a blink of an eye. So what right do I have to complain? What right do I have to feel sad or depressed or angry or even exhausted? What right do I have to get upset and wish that the rut of neverending-ness would just end already? What right do I have to hate the monotony? What right do I have to feel bad?
I don't have that right. It's not my disease. It's hers. So I see her face in my mind and I keep walking...I keep moving...one foot in front of the other...because I do it for her. I endure it for her for the little while that it is mine to endure....because I am her Mom...and I love her more than the air I breathe and the life I live. At least the path in this rut is well worn and familiar...and at least I know I am not alone....I catch glimpses of other D-parents out of the corner of my eye. I know they are there....making their way through the fog of monotony with me...and I know we will make it back out into the sunshine again.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Sunday, October 14, 2012
A Moment of Beauty
They say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. First off, I would like to know who "they" are and what makes "them" such an authority on how the rest of us should think. In case you haven't figured it out by now, I am not a huge fan of being told what to do or how to think about things....I've always been that way, just ask my Mom about the lovely teen years.
Anyhoo, in this particular case, I would have to agree with them. What is beautiful to one, could be completely boring to another. I think a lot of us get so wrapped up in our busy lives that we tend to miss out on all of the beauty that surrounds us every day.
I was at a birthday party today for a little boy in Emma's class. I am starting to take some tentative steps in Emma's independence when it comes to diabetes. I am trying to teach her that while yes...she can most definitely have fun just like every other kid out there....and yes, she can eat that birthday cake and have that juice and play those games and run around like a maniac with the rest of her friends............she still has to remember that diabetes is there. She has to remember that in order to have fun and be just like all of the other kids, she must do a little extra. She must check her blood sugar, she must stop running to check and make sure she isn't low...and if she IS low she must drink that juice. She has to remember these things and develop her abilities to think ahead when it comes to things like activity level, excitement level, carbs consumed, insulin on board.
We are all a work in progress. Even though I have been doing this for almost 4 1/2 years now, I am still a work in progress. I am still learning. I will continue to learn for the rest of my life. The moment I stop learning or even lose that desire to learn....I might as well be lost because I will be of no use to anyone...including myself. The key to understanding most anything in this world is education. If you find the beauty in education you will inevitably discover the beauty in understanding. The two go hand in hand.
So, back to the party.....I decided to check Emma one last time and leave her at the party. I left her meter bag with the birthday boy's big sister and got in my car and drove away. I drove away and that feeling of panic was not there. I felt..........good. I got home and spent the next while sitting on my husband's lap at the computer watching Felix Baumgartner make it into the record books by skydiving from more than 24 miles in the air. As I sat there, my husband's arm around me...our eyes glued to the monitor...I felt it again..........I felt....good. We stared at this man as he leapt from a tiny ladder attached to the side of a tiny capsule high above the Earth. I was in awe of the bravery and guts that this man had....to be able to step off that ladder and simply fall. His words before he jumped? "I wish you could see what I see right now. Sometimes you have to go up really high to see how small you are."
To be able to stand there and look down at the world...I can only imagine how breathtaking that beauty must have been. Felix's vision of beauty today was on a grande scale of course....one that not many of us in the world will ever be so lucky to witness ourselves.
I took my little moment today...with my husband as we watched this extreme skydive......I took it as a thing of beauty. To everyone else, it probably would seem like a boring every day occurance between a husband and wife...........but to me....it was beautiful...and I felt good.
Anyhoo, in this particular case, I would have to agree with them. What is beautiful to one, could be completely boring to another. I think a lot of us get so wrapped up in our busy lives that we tend to miss out on all of the beauty that surrounds us every day.
I was at a birthday party today for a little boy in Emma's class. I am starting to take some tentative steps in Emma's independence when it comes to diabetes. I am trying to teach her that while yes...she can most definitely have fun just like every other kid out there....and yes, she can eat that birthday cake and have that juice and play those games and run around like a maniac with the rest of her friends............she still has to remember that diabetes is there. She has to remember that in order to have fun and be just like all of the other kids, she must do a little extra. She must check her blood sugar, she must stop running to check and make sure she isn't low...and if she IS low she must drink that juice. She has to remember these things and develop her abilities to think ahead when it comes to things like activity level, excitement level, carbs consumed, insulin on board.
We are all a work in progress. Even though I have been doing this for almost 4 1/2 years now, I am still a work in progress. I am still learning. I will continue to learn for the rest of my life. The moment I stop learning or even lose that desire to learn....I might as well be lost because I will be of no use to anyone...including myself. The key to understanding most anything in this world is education. If you find the beauty in education you will inevitably discover the beauty in understanding. The two go hand in hand.
So, back to the party.....I decided to check Emma one last time and leave her at the party. I left her meter bag with the birthday boy's big sister and got in my car and drove away. I drove away and that feeling of panic was not there. I felt..........good. I got home and spent the next while sitting on my husband's lap at the computer watching Felix Baumgartner make it into the record books by skydiving from more than 24 miles in the air. As I sat there, my husband's arm around me...our eyes glued to the monitor...I felt it again..........I felt....good. We stared at this man as he leapt from a tiny ladder attached to the side of a tiny capsule high above the Earth. I was in awe of the bravery and guts that this man had....to be able to step off that ladder and simply fall. His words before he jumped? "I wish you could see what I see right now. Sometimes you have to go up really high to see how small you are."
To be able to stand there and look down at the world...I can only imagine how breathtaking that beauty must have been. Felix's vision of beauty today was on a grande scale of course....one that not many of us in the world will ever be so lucky to witness ourselves.
I took my little moment today...with my husband as we watched this extreme skydive......I took it as a thing of beauty. To everyone else, it probably would seem like a boring every day occurance between a husband and wife...........but to me....it was beautiful...and I felt good.
Friday, October 12, 2012
My reality tv show
Sometimes I feel like I am not me. I feel like I'm watching my life on a TV show or something. Like it's some bad reality tv show that just keeps hanging on...playing every night...at 2 in the morning...and the only one watching it is me. I feel like I am staring at this character version of myself on the screen and thinking "oh that girl looks awful! why doesn't she just sit down for a minute? why doesn't she sleep already?" I feel like I want to turn the channel...I want to flip to the Disney channel and watch some stupid family sitcom where hi-jinx happen, someone winds up doing something outrageous, there is a heartfelt moment, and by the end of the half an hour all of the problems are solved and everyone lives happily every after.
Except I can't change the channel. The remote doesn't work...every time I try to push the buttons on it to change it, it just goes right back to my reality show. Everytime I get up and try to change it the old fashioned way right on the tv itself....same thing. I am stuck. Stuck watching this tired version of myself in a never ending loop. There is no laugh track to ease the tension...there are no commercials for toothpaste or dog food. It's just me....day in and day out.
I find myself noticing all of the little things...the moments where I see the TV version of myself walk into the corner of the wall at night because she is so tired, her balance just a little bit off, her eyes set in a robotic glazed over look...as she trudges up the stairs to her daughter's room to check her blood sugar. I see the monotony in her eyes....I see the never-ending-ness....I see the exhaustion. I notice as the years go on and the seasons run into each other that her hair is a little more gray...the lines around her eyes begin to form. I see just how much diabetes is affecting her whether she likes it or not...whether she fights it or not. I see the look in her eyes as she crawls into bed after a long day. I see the love she has for her child shining straight out from her heart...the core of her being. I see the two of them lost in a fit of giggles over some silly thing they talked about or saw or did. I see them lost in that moment in time....the world around them a blur of mundane intensity. I see the child walk beside her Mom...they have the same mannerisms...they walk the same...they tilt their head the same way when they are deep in thought. I see the child reach out and grab her Mom's hand with so much ease and comfort that it brings tears to my eyes. I see the adoration in their eyes. I see the strength between them. I see the power that pours from within each and magnifies between them with every beat of their hearts...every breath exhaled from their lungs.
I watch this show and I am overcome with emotion. I want so badly for them to win. I want so badly for them to come out on top and for that seemingly never-ending half an hour to end. I want the theme song to play and the credits to roll...I want the announcer to come on and say stay tuned next week for a reunion show starring the entire cast....except for diabetes...for you see, diabetes is gone....skipped town and is never to return. I want the theme music to slowly fade away and know in my heart that these characters I have followed since day 1 will be ok....they will live happily ever after.
Except I can't change the channel. The remote doesn't work...every time I try to push the buttons on it to change it, it just goes right back to my reality show. Everytime I get up and try to change it the old fashioned way right on the tv itself....same thing. I am stuck. Stuck watching this tired version of myself in a never ending loop. There is no laugh track to ease the tension...there are no commercials for toothpaste or dog food. It's just me....day in and day out.
I find myself noticing all of the little things...the moments where I see the TV version of myself walk into the corner of the wall at night because she is so tired, her balance just a little bit off, her eyes set in a robotic glazed over look...as she trudges up the stairs to her daughter's room to check her blood sugar. I see the monotony in her eyes....I see the never-ending-ness....I see the exhaustion. I notice as the years go on and the seasons run into each other that her hair is a little more gray...the lines around her eyes begin to form. I see just how much diabetes is affecting her whether she likes it or not...whether she fights it or not. I see the look in her eyes as she crawls into bed after a long day. I see the love she has for her child shining straight out from her heart...the core of her being. I see the two of them lost in a fit of giggles over some silly thing they talked about or saw or did. I see them lost in that moment in time....the world around them a blur of mundane intensity. I see the child walk beside her Mom...they have the same mannerisms...they walk the same...they tilt their head the same way when they are deep in thought. I see the child reach out and grab her Mom's hand with so much ease and comfort that it brings tears to my eyes. I see the adoration in their eyes. I see the strength between them. I see the power that pours from within each and magnifies between them with every beat of their hearts...every breath exhaled from their lungs.
I watch this show and I am overcome with emotion. I want so badly for them to win. I want so badly for them to come out on top and for that seemingly never-ending half an hour to end. I want the theme song to play and the credits to roll...I want the announcer to come on and say stay tuned next week for a reunion show starring the entire cast....except for diabetes...for you see, diabetes is gone....skipped town and is never to return. I want the theme music to slowly fade away and know in my heart that these characters I have followed since day 1 will be ok....they will live happily ever after.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Raising a little girl is hard
Ever since Emma turned 7, I have found myself becoming more and more irritated with the way things are portrayed to her in public. For example, when I go to the store to buy clothes for her....the store has sizes broken down into 3 sections....obviously the first being baby sizes, then the next is size 2-6, and finally the group Emma is in now, size 7-14. I am annoyed with this because in my opinion there is not a 7 year old out there that should be wearing the same style clothing as a 14 year old. There is a HUGE difference in the mindset of a 7 year old compared to that of a 14 year old!
So, I ask myself....why does the store do this? Why do clothing manufacturers make clothing in this manner? Am I the only parent out there that feels like this is something wrong or weird?
I walk around in public places and I see girls wearing clothes that cover about as much of their body as a pair of underwear and a bra would....girls that couldn't possibly be any older than 12. I look at them and I feel this uneasy fear in the pit of my stomach. I see them and I know that my own daughter is just a few years away from that age. It fills me with such a mixed sense of emotions that I have trouble even making sense of them sometimes.
On the one hand, I am probably the most liberal person you will ever meet when it comes to individuality and expression. I would never feel that it could be my place to judge someone based on their appearance. On the other hand, I look at my daughter and I can honestly say that I would never want her to feel that she had to dress that way to impress someone...a boy...her friends...anyone. I want her to not be judged on her appearance and how much skin she shows. I don't want her to be judged at all actually. I want her personality, her intelligence, her sense of humour to shine through and win people's hearts just as she has won mine. It kills me to see teen stars on tv, or in music, or movies, and magazines....being portrayed as a sexualized icon to my daughter and so many other little girls in the world. It kills me that I don't see more of a balance...for every one half dressed celebrity on the cover with her finger nail provacatively perched on the bottom lip of her open mouth......I wish there was a fully clothed celebrity holding a book...or helping a small child in need...or even involved in a fundraiser for a charity. I wish it was more balanced. I wish that these images weren't thrust at my daughter and her friends every time they leave the house. I just want to gather them all up and sit them down and tell them how important they are...how special they are for just being themselves...how they will only be 8 once...they will never again have another October 11, 2012, so they need to enjoy it being a kid....being 8 years old and playing with their toys...singing silly songs, dancing, doing cartwheels...just being a little girl! I wish I could tell them that and make it sink in before they go off into the world again to be bombarded with our over-sexualized society.
I know what you are thinking, there is no way you could change things Amy....this is the way the world is now...it's not 1950 anymore...suck it up and just accept it. I know all of this...and I wouldn't expect it to be like it was in 1950. I love the fact that there are powerful women out there...women who fight for equal rights...women who stand up and speak their mind...women who work twice as hard as a man and stand as a shining beacon of hope for our future...women who are nurturing and caring and giving of themselves...women who have ideas, act on them, work hard, and make an impact on the world we now live in.
Please know that I am not blaming society for my woes. I am not blaming music or tv or movies. I am not blaming Hollywood. I am not blaming anyone. I am simply stating that this is something that disturbs me. I know it ultimately falls on my shoulders to teach my daughter how to have self worth...how to have confidence in her beauty (inner as well as outer)...how to shine amidst a muddied mess of chaos out there...how to revel in her intelligence and share her humour with the world. I know that I must teach her these things and make her believe them deep down in her heart...believe that she is worthwile just being who she is. I accept the job and I will do my best to make her see these things and believe them about herself before I send her off to conquer the world on her own.
I think this means so much to me because as a kid I was not confident in myself...in fact I thought I was ugly. I hated my hair, my freckles, my shyness. I hated my teeth and how my eyes squinted when I smiled. I hated how all of the boys never saw me the same way as they saw some of my friends. I hated how I suffered in silence. I hated how I thought I was stupid in math. I hated how I felt like I was a nerd and not good enough or pretty enough or funny enough or popular enough or simply liked enough. Yes, I had a lot of friends...I had fun...I went to sleepovers and birthday parties and playdates...I did all of these things...but I never felt good enough.
I don't want Emma to feel that way about herself. I want her to BELIEVE In herself and KNOW that she is good enough. Without diabetes in the mix, this challenge would be extremely difficult. Since diabetes is also along for the ride, I will have just one extra hurdle to get over...one extra thing to make sure doesn't affect her and make her feel different...out of place...not good enough. I hope that I can do this. I hope that I can instill these beliefs in her. Once again, I hope that I am good enough.
What a bizarre thing to realize that I still have those same thoughts that ran through my head 25 years ago. I guess there are some demons that never leave us.
So, I ask myself....why does the store do this? Why do clothing manufacturers make clothing in this manner? Am I the only parent out there that feels like this is something wrong or weird?
I walk around in public places and I see girls wearing clothes that cover about as much of their body as a pair of underwear and a bra would....girls that couldn't possibly be any older than 12. I look at them and I feel this uneasy fear in the pit of my stomach. I see them and I know that my own daughter is just a few years away from that age. It fills me with such a mixed sense of emotions that I have trouble even making sense of them sometimes.
On the one hand, I am probably the most liberal person you will ever meet when it comes to individuality and expression. I would never feel that it could be my place to judge someone based on their appearance. On the other hand, I look at my daughter and I can honestly say that I would never want her to feel that she had to dress that way to impress someone...a boy...her friends...anyone. I want her to not be judged on her appearance and how much skin she shows. I don't want her to be judged at all actually. I want her personality, her intelligence, her sense of humour to shine through and win people's hearts just as she has won mine. It kills me to see teen stars on tv, or in music, or movies, and magazines....being portrayed as a sexualized icon to my daughter and so many other little girls in the world. It kills me that I don't see more of a balance...for every one half dressed celebrity on the cover with her finger nail provacatively perched on the bottom lip of her open mouth......I wish there was a fully clothed celebrity holding a book...or helping a small child in need...or even involved in a fundraiser for a charity. I wish it was more balanced. I wish that these images weren't thrust at my daughter and her friends every time they leave the house. I just want to gather them all up and sit them down and tell them how important they are...how special they are for just being themselves...how they will only be 8 once...they will never again have another October 11, 2012, so they need to enjoy it being a kid....being 8 years old and playing with their toys...singing silly songs, dancing, doing cartwheels...just being a little girl! I wish I could tell them that and make it sink in before they go off into the world again to be bombarded with our over-sexualized society.
I know what you are thinking, there is no way you could change things Amy....this is the way the world is now...it's not 1950 anymore...suck it up and just accept it. I know all of this...and I wouldn't expect it to be like it was in 1950. I love the fact that there are powerful women out there...women who fight for equal rights...women who stand up and speak their mind...women who work twice as hard as a man and stand as a shining beacon of hope for our future...women who are nurturing and caring and giving of themselves...women who have ideas, act on them, work hard, and make an impact on the world we now live in.
Please know that I am not blaming society for my woes. I am not blaming music or tv or movies. I am not blaming Hollywood. I am not blaming anyone. I am simply stating that this is something that disturbs me. I know it ultimately falls on my shoulders to teach my daughter how to have self worth...how to have confidence in her beauty (inner as well as outer)...how to shine amidst a muddied mess of chaos out there...how to revel in her intelligence and share her humour with the world. I know that I must teach her these things and make her believe them deep down in her heart...believe that she is worthwile just being who she is. I accept the job and I will do my best to make her see these things and believe them about herself before I send her off to conquer the world on her own.
I think this means so much to me because as a kid I was not confident in myself...in fact I thought I was ugly. I hated my hair, my freckles, my shyness. I hated my teeth and how my eyes squinted when I smiled. I hated how all of the boys never saw me the same way as they saw some of my friends. I hated how I suffered in silence. I hated how I thought I was stupid in math. I hated how I felt like I was a nerd and not good enough or pretty enough or funny enough or popular enough or simply liked enough. Yes, I had a lot of friends...I had fun...I went to sleepovers and birthday parties and playdates...I did all of these things...but I never felt good enough.
I don't want Emma to feel that way about herself. I want her to BELIEVE In herself and KNOW that she is good enough. Without diabetes in the mix, this challenge would be extremely difficult. Since diabetes is also along for the ride, I will have just one extra hurdle to get over...one extra thing to make sure doesn't affect her and make her feel different...out of place...not good enough. I hope that I can do this. I hope that I can instill these beliefs in her. Once again, I hope that I am good enough.
What a bizarre thing to realize that I still have those same thoughts that ran through my head 25 years ago. I guess there are some demons that never leave us.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Failure is not an option
After 4 years, you would think I would be able to remember not to put so much emphasis on one particular blood sugar number. You would think that I would know better by now not to beat myself up over it. You would think that I would realize that it is just one small number measured in one small moment in time.....it is not a reflection of how good or bad I have been doing. It is not a reflection of my crap abilities at being a pancreas. it is not a reflection of my skills as a mom. It is just a number. It is a big fat ugly number that seems to scream at me from the blood sugar meter. How can one number feel like it has knocked the wind out of me and sent me to my hands and knees sprawled on the ground? How can one number have that power? It's just a number! It's just a number! It's JUST A NUMBER!
You would think that I would have this etched into my brain after all of this time....after all of the blood sugar checks we have done...all of the carb counting...all of the boluses and injections. You would think that I would know this. You would think that I wouldn't be sitting here right now pissed off at myself for not being a better pancreas and being able to figure out why the hell i have been battling low blood sugars for the past month.....only to have her body pull a complete 180 on me and now be faced with numbers like 19.8 at lunch time. I know all of this in my head. I know it in my heart. I know it's just a stinkin number....but I still get mad....I still yell at myself in my head....I still blame myself...I still feel like a failure....I still do it. I know the old saying of how we are our own worst enemies. I know it and it is true. I don't think there is anyone else on the planet who is harder on me than ME. I hate it and I wish I wouldn't be like this. I think that I still after all of this time feel like because I am her Mom....I need to fix it...I need to fix the problem and make it right. Even though I know in my head from experience that you can not always fix it....you can not always make it right when it comes to diabetes. It's just not possible.
Diabetes is not black and white. It is not a fan of keeping it simple and what works for you one day or even one month....will not necessarily work for you tomorrow. I hate the grey uncertainty...i hate the unknown...i hate it. I just wish I could take the two sides of myself and my thoughts and superglue them together so I could convince myself that the time I am wasting right now in even thinking the thoughts I am thinking and writing about is stupid. I am wasting energy in beating myself up over a number....actually a string of numbers over the past few days. I am wasting the energy. They are in the past and there is nothing I can do about them now. I need to step back....breathe....and move the heck on.
Because there will always be more numbers....always more checks...always more adjustments and always more changes. Change is constant in this life and whether I like it or not, I must accept it. It doesn't make me a bad person...a bad mom...or even a bad pancreas. Those things are defined by how I choose to handle the numbers....and how i choose to react to them. Do I sit here and waste more time getting pissed and angry and frustrated and overwhelmed and fighting the urge to wave the white flag in defeat? Or do I stop. Do I stop and tell that critic in my head to shut up?
I hung out in option A for long enough today..........it's getting me nowhere fast.....so I am now choosing option B.
You would think that I would have this etched into my brain after all of this time....after all of the blood sugar checks we have done...all of the carb counting...all of the boluses and injections. You would think that I would know this. You would think that I wouldn't be sitting here right now pissed off at myself for not being a better pancreas and being able to figure out why the hell i have been battling low blood sugars for the past month.....only to have her body pull a complete 180 on me and now be faced with numbers like 19.8 at lunch time. I know all of this in my head. I know it in my heart. I know it's just a stinkin number....but I still get mad....I still yell at myself in my head....I still blame myself...I still feel like a failure....I still do it. I know the old saying of how we are our own worst enemies. I know it and it is true. I don't think there is anyone else on the planet who is harder on me than ME. I hate it and I wish I wouldn't be like this. I think that I still after all of this time feel like because I am her Mom....I need to fix it...I need to fix the problem and make it right. Even though I know in my head from experience that you can not always fix it....you can not always make it right when it comes to diabetes. It's just not possible.
Diabetes is not black and white. It is not a fan of keeping it simple and what works for you one day or even one month....will not necessarily work for you tomorrow. I hate the grey uncertainty...i hate the unknown...i hate it. I just wish I could take the two sides of myself and my thoughts and superglue them together so I could convince myself that the time I am wasting right now in even thinking the thoughts I am thinking and writing about is stupid. I am wasting energy in beating myself up over a number....actually a string of numbers over the past few days. I am wasting the energy. They are in the past and there is nothing I can do about them now. I need to step back....breathe....and move the heck on.
Because there will always be more numbers....always more checks...always more adjustments and always more changes. Change is constant in this life and whether I like it or not, I must accept it. It doesn't make me a bad person...a bad mom...or even a bad pancreas. Those things are defined by how I choose to handle the numbers....and how i choose to react to them. Do I sit here and waste more time getting pissed and angry and frustrated and overwhelmed and fighting the urge to wave the white flag in defeat? Or do I stop. Do I stop and tell that critic in my head to shut up?
I hung out in option A for long enough today..........it's getting me nowhere fast.....so I am now choosing option B.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Cancer
The older I get, the more I have learned that the word family doesn't necessarily ONLY include people that you are blood related/marriage related to. I have learned that there are people we come across in our life, whether by chance or by choice, that wind up becoming a part of that special group of people that you hold in your heart. I am blessed to have quite a few of those people in my life.
I of course have my fellow D-Mom's and Dad's that I carry with me in my heart. They get it. They understand this life and this battle. I met them because of an awful thing that occured to us. Had it not been for diabetes, I would have never been graced with their presence....never had the opportunity to know exactly what it means to fully and completely understand and love someone that only resides inside your computer.
I have dear friends that I have met in my life that I met simply because of random occurances in my life...such as a place I have visited...or a place I lived...or a place I worked..or went to school. They all are with me every single day and I draw strength from the knowledge that they care about me and support me.
I found out some news yesterday that broke my heart. The neighbour that lives across the street from me was just diagnosed with brain cancer. This man has been a fixture in my life every day for the past almost 12 years. He is retired and his pride and joy has always been his yard. He has beautiful flowers and trees and plants growing all over, a couple of coy ponds, one of which has a lovely and serene waterfall flowing into it. Nearly all of my memories of him are outside. I remember sitting on my front porch enjoying coffee first thing in the morning and saying hello to him as he watered his flowers. I remember standing in my driveway in the beginning of February...bitter cold and snow everywhere...with my big pregnant belly...chatting with him as he brought his garbage to the curb. I remember playing in the front yard with a 2 year old Emma...her hair in short little pigtails sticking out from the side of her head...waving her chubby little arms in the air and shouting across the road, "HIIIIIIIIII TOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!" at him and seeing him burst into laughter as he shouted hello back to her. I remember walking over to his yard with Emma's tiny hand in mine and chatting with him as Emma marveled at the fact that he had fishies swimming around in his yard. I remember him looking at me with tears in his eyes and hearing his voice crack as he told me how sorry he was to hear that Emma was diagnosed with diabetes, but that he knew she would be fine because she is a tough girl and nothing will stop her in life...she will never let any grass grow under her feet. I remember him always being the first one to want to donate to her JDRF Walks...to support her hot chocolate sale fundraisers...to help her in any way he could...monetarily or otherwise.
He is one of those truly unique and special people in this world that are hard to find. If you happen to discover one in your life, consider yourself blessed. He is good to the core. He is a good soul...has an honestly kind soul...he never would ask for help...and yet he was always the first to offer help. He is a good man. My heart breaks for him and I can't imagine living here knowing that when I go outside or back out of the driveway....that he won't be there...watering his flowers or cutting his grass...getting his mail...bringing his garbage out....shoveling snow. I can't imagine it. It won't feel right. I type this with tears in my eyes because I don't even know if he really has any idea how much he means to me and my daughter. I don't even know if he realizes that he has been more like a grandfather figure to her than I could have ever hoped for. I don't know if he knows how comforting his presence out there in his yard was to me. To know that I could always count on him being out there...making his little corner of the world a little more beautiful.
So, here I sit.....sad....and feeling guilty for wanting him to remain here...because I don't want him to have to live his remaining years in pain...or confused...or disoriented because of the tumors growing inside him. I feel guilty because I want him to remain here....and in my head I tell myself, he's not even my "real family"....he's simply a man I met because I moved here in this house. But in my heart, I feel it...and I know that he is a part of my family...he is one of those special people that I hold in my heart....and this hurts....even though I know it may sound silly because I am sure it hurts his family and his wife a million times more......but it still hurts nonetheless.
I hate cancer.
I of course have my fellow D-Mom's and Dad's that I carry with me in my heart. They get it. They understand this life and this battle. I met them because of an awful thing that occured to us. Had it not been for diabetes, I would have never been graced with their presence....never had the opportunity to know exactly what it means to fully and completely understand and love someone that only resides inside your computer.
I have dear friends that I have met in my life that I met simply because of random occurances in my life...such as a place I have visited...or a place I lived...or a place I worked..or went to school. They all are with me every single day and I draw strength from the knowledge that they care about me and support me.
I found out some news yesterday that broke my heart. The neighbour that lives across the street from me was just diagnosed with brain cancer. This man has been a fixture in my life every day for the past almost 12 years. He is retired and his pride and joy has always been his yard. He has beautiful flowers and trees and plants growing all over, a couple of coy ponds, one of which has a lovely and serene waterfall flowing into it. Nearly all of my memories of him are outside. I remember sitting on my front porch enjoying coffee first thing in the morning and saying hello to him as he watered his flowers. I remember standing in my driveway in the beginning of February...bitter cold and snow everywhere...with my big pregnant belly...chatting with him as he brought his garbage to the curb. I remember playing in the front yard with a 2 year old Emma...her hair in short little pigtails sticking out from the side of her head...waving her chubby little arms in the air and shouting across the road, "HIIIIIIIIII TOMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!" at him and seeing him burst into laughter as he shouted hello back to her. I remember walking over to his yard with Emma's tiny hand in mine and chatting with him as Emma marveled at the fact that he had fishies swimming around in his yard. I remember him looking at me with tears in his eyes and hearing his voice crack as he told me how sorry he was to hear that Emma was diagnosed with diabetes, but that he knew she would be fine because she is a tough girl and nothing will stop her in life...she will never let any grass grow under her feet. I remember him always being the first one to want to donate to her JDRF Walks...to support her hot chocolate sale fundraisers...to help her in any way he could...monetarily or otherwise.
He is one of those truly unique and special people in this world that are hard to find. If you happen to discover one in your life, consider yourself blessed. He is good to the core. He is a good soul...has an honestly kind soul...he never would ask for help...and yet he was always the first to offer help. He is a good man. My heart breaks for him and I can't imagine living here knowing that when I go outside or back out of the driveway....that he won't be there...watering his flowers or cutting his grass...getting his mail...bringing his garbage out....shoveling snow. I can't imagine it. It won't feel right. I type this with tears in my eyes because I don't even know if he really has any idea how much he means to me and my daughter. I don't even know if he realizes that he has been more like a grandfather figure to her than I could have ever hoped for. I don't know if he knows how comforting his presence out there in his yard was to me. To know that I could always count on him being out there...making his little corner of the world a little more beautiful.
So, here I sit.....sad....and feeling guilty for wanting him to remain here...because I don't want him to have to live his remaining years in pain...or confused...or disoriented because of the tumors growing inside him. I feel guilty because I want him to remain here....and in my head I tell myself, he's not even my "real family"....he's simply a man I met because I moved here in this house. But in my heart, I feel it...and I know that he is a part of my family...he is one of those special people that I hold in my heart....and this hurts....even though I know it may sound silly because I am sure it hurts his family and his wife a million times more......but it still hurts nonetheless.
I hate cancer.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Questions for Adults living with Type 1
Sometimes I sit here with a smirk on my face and think about how different our lives have become since diabetes entered the picture. Not even just how different this life is compared to how it was before....but more so how things have progressed over the years. In the beginning days after diagnosis, I was worried all of the time...scared...I would panic over the little things. I would blame myself for the highs and lows. I would find myself constantly staring at her to seek out those potential low blood sugars...constantly asking her if she felt ok...if she felt low. I'm sure I was probably the most annoying person on the planet to my 4 year old Emma.
As the years progress, i am finding myself not AS worried...not AS panicked...not AS stressed. It is a whole new ball game because she is now 8 and she is able to help me figure things out more. I am truly greatful to have her on my team at this point.
I imagine that this is a normal thing for all parents of d-kiddos to go through. We make that transition from sole psuedo pancreas....to captain of the pseudo pancreas team...to supporting role.
I have a few friends in real life and on line that are now adults living with type 1 diabetes and I am writing this post to them. I am at the point now in this d-life, where I am wondering if I am doing all that I should be doing...if I am handling things right....if I am supporting Emma in the way that she needs to be supported...if I am still doing too much..annoying her...if I need to step back more and let her make mistakes more so she learns? It's hard to not to question your choices in this life when it comes to the physical aspect of things and you see the numbers not play out the way you wanted them too. But I think it is also difficult not to question yourself when it comes to the emotional aspect. I want to set my kid off on the right path. I want her to have all of the tools she will need to make it in this life and to achieve all of her dreams. I want her to be strong. When she is grown and on her own...living her own life...if she happens to see those lows or highs, I don't want her to get angry at herself..I want her to see the number, fix it, and move on.
So, I guess my question for all of you adults living with Type 1 is this......looking back on your childhood, is there anything that you wish your parents did differently or is there anything you wish they would/wouldn't have said? Is there something that stands out for you? Do you have any tips or advice that you think should be shared with all parents of children with diabetes?
I want to do it right. I want to raise Emma to be a strong, confident, and loving person. So, as we keep on truckin in this life with diabetes, I want to do my best to arm her with all that she needs to make it work. Thanks in advance!
As the years progress, i am finding myself not AS worried...not AS panicked...not AS stressed. It is a whole new ball game because she is now 8 and she is able to help me figure things out more. I am truly greatful to have her on my team at this point.
I imagine that this is a normal thing for all parents of d-kiddos to go through. We make that transition from sole psuedo pancreas....to captain of the pseudo pancreas team...to supporting role.
I have a few friends in real life and on line that are now adults living with type 1 diabetes and I am writing this post to them. I am at the point now in this d-life, where I am wondering if I am doing all that I should be doing...if I am handling things right....if I am supporting Emma in the way that she needs to be supported...if I am still doing too much..annoying her...if I need to step back more and let her make mistakes more so she learns? It's hard to not to question your choices in this life when it comes to the physical aspect of things and you see the numbers not play out the way you wanted them too. But I think it is also difficult not to question yourself when it comes to the emotional aspect. I want to set my kid off on the right path. I want her to have all of the tools she will need to make it in this life and to achieve all of her dreams. I want her to be strong. When she is grown and on her own...living her own life...if she happens to see those lows or highs, I don't want her to get angry at herself..I want her to see the number, fix it, and move on.
So, I guess my question for all of you adults living with Type 1 is this......looking back on your childhood, is there anything that you wish your parents did differently or is there anything you wish they would/wouldn't have said? Is there something that stands out for you? Do you have any tips or advice that you think should be shared with all parents of children with diabetes?
I want to do it right. I want to raise Emma to be a strong, confident, and loving person. So, as we keep on truckin in this life with diabetes, I want to do my best to arm her with all that she needs to make it work. Thanks in advance!
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