Diabetes sucks. There I said it and it about summarizes all emotions that have occurred in the last four days.
Friday I heard about the five, count them that is F-I-V-E young ones who died because of Type 1 Diabetes. There was a young woman who went into DKA while her parents were on vacation. The callous reaction was to say, well she should have caught that she was high and treated. What was wrong with her? Reality–some people go into DKA very easily and the situation can quickly escalate out of control especially with no one to help you.
There was the nine year old little one who became so depressed that she took her own life. She was nine! She was so devastated by this disease that she ended her life? Heartbreaking for those of us reading about it but the pain for the parents must be unimaginable.
As well, there was an eighteen month old baby whose diabetes was not diagnosed until it was too late. This child’s life was cut down before it started. This story hit very close to home as my own son was only one year older than this child and was within twelve hours of death himself when diagnosed.
The anger eventually faded because our own reality came pouring in. My son was high…I mean HI and he was quietly dealing with it himself. I asked why he was drinking so much and he said it was because he was in the 30s (over 540mgdl). I was ready to have a heart attack. All afternoon? I grabbed the meter and couldn’t see past the latest reading “HI”. HOLY CRAP! Can’t register????? What the……?? I quickly told him to drink water, change his site and his cartridge. We checked for ketones. Yep, they were there. I hate highs. Six hours later and he was finally down to 8 (145) and I could breathe again.
Yesterday my son happened to be looking over my shoulder as I checked out my Facebook page. “Mom why are there all of those blue candles? You have one, Jen has one. What’s with all of the candles?”
I paused, I thought, what do I say? I have been blunt with him over the years about the seriousness of diabetes but did he need to know this? He is coming out of himself, enjoying life and taking care of himself. I had been reminded of all of the amazing people that I knew who lived with diabetes for 20, 30, 40 and FIFTY years. I didn’t want to bring him down but I couldn’t lie to him….
“They are memorial candles.”
“What do you mean?”
That was enough for him. He didn’t know if they had died last week or six years ago. He was okay with things left there. I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn’t cried. I had pulled up my big girl pants and focused on the living and the wonderful possibilities. I was okay. My son was okay.