As I stated in my first post, I'm coming up on my 20 year anniversary of my diagnosis with
Type I Diabetes. As I've been reflecting on my diagnosis and that time in my life, I've been reminded of the struggle of changing your entire life for a disease that happened to you.
I remember driving down Battlefield Rd. in Springfield, MO headed toward the highway and the hospital in Columbia with a head full of questions and a heart full of grief. Some of the thoughts that plagued my 14 year old mind were: 'Am I going to be able to have children? (Steel Magnolias was vivid in my thoughts),' 'What's going to happen to me when I graduate college - will I get a good job that will cover my insurance?,' 'What boy would want to date someone with diabetes and take on all of the extra risks, and hassles?'
It was a lot to think about. When I got home, I was on a two shot regiment, the old 70/30 mix. (If you're still on a 70/30 mix - CHANGE! - okay, just had to get that out there. I was dumbfounded when I saw they still produced that stuff!) Anyhow, every morning I would get out my insulin and sit on my bathroom floor and roll the vial around in my hands. I would take the syringe and draw up the dose. I would flick the bubbles out and prime the needle so it was ready to go. I would grab an inch or two of flesh on my thigh and squeeze it together. And then, I would sit there with the needle poised above my leg, afraid to take the shot.
It was a mental and physical struggle every morning and every night.
One afternoon, I was very moody. (My goodness, can you imagine a 14 year old girl is moody anyway, and then dump a chronic illness in her life. My poor parents....) Anyway, my mom gave me great advice that I still think about when I'm wrestling with something. She told me it was okay to be angry. It was okay to be mad at God, and that I needed to have it out with Him. She said, "He knows what you're thinking anyway, you might as well say it to Him. And then listen to see what He says." I thought it was ridiculous, but my mom insisted if I'd literally talk it out, it might make me feel better.
So, I remember trudging up the stairs to my room with tears in my eyes, sprawling on my bed and screaming in my pillow. I remember yelling in my pillow at God. I remember asking Him all my questions about dating, insurance, the pain, children, what my future would now be because of this dumb disease. And then I waited. I don't remember feeling anything at that time. Just peaceful. I just laid on my bed. Soon, it was time to take my shot for dinner.
I went to my bathroom, rolled the insulin, primed the needle and let it hover over my leg. And then I felt Him. I heard Him tell me in my heart that I could do this. That I only had to think about this one shot. I didn't need to worry about the shots tomorrow, or the disease 2 years from that point, I only had to do that shot at that moment. And I could do that. Take it day by day. That is what He showed me. And somehow, that made it seem so much more manageable.
I remember Dr. Goldstein, my first endocrinologist, telling me that it would take about a year for everything to start to feel normal again. I remember counting down the days. And, true enough, in about a years time, I felt more at ease, more like myself, and diabetes seemed like less of a big deal.
So, if you are at the beginning of your journey with diabetes, take heart. Only focus on today. Tell God your concerns and let Him speak to you. Here I am, 20 years later, with ZERO complications, a wonderful husband, a great son, and an active, joyful life. It is possible. Just hang in there.
Blessings,
Gretchen
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