Today I have been doing my very best at doing nothing. I am easily distracted and have spent more time searching for ellusive quarters to finish my latest Packrat collection than getting any meaningful work done. Its a lovely sunny day with a storm forecast for tomorrow and my get up and go seems to be flaked out in the sun.
In an effort to see some productivity today I began going through my twitter peeps to see what was new in research, blogs and of course cures for diabetes (there is no end to the number of “cure your diabetes” tweets to be seen). As I went through some great information and read some blog posts that made me sad, I read one that really made me pause. It was a “diabetic parents” blog called “Left Field“. The author’s husband, who must have diabetes, was pondering what he would do if he won a lottery. He stated that he would go to Brazil to have a stem cell transplant that would allow him to live diabetes free for 12-18 months.
My first thought was how devistating to go back to life with diabetes when your magical time was up. She went on to state that he thought being able to experience life diabetes free for the first time in his lifetime would be worth it. This made me think of my own son. Would he think the same way? He has never known life without diabetes. He can barely remember last week so there is no way he remembers life 11 years ago when he would eat without testing and bolusing.
I can’t answer for him so I wondered what it would mean for me…12 months without night testing would mean that I just might start to make up for 17 years of sleepless nights only to be thrown back into full tilt when the “cure” wore off–but I could handle that. It would mean a year without a log book. No writing down everything he ate and every reading. It would mean no readings! No nagging to test, no asking “did you bolus?”. No site changes, no insulin cartridges to fill. No trips to the pharmacy for more test strips. No more test strips in the washer. No more test strips in the dryer. No more test strips in my car, in the driveway, under the couch or in the plants!
This is getting exciting but wait…it only lasts until midnight, I mean 12-18 months. After that we are plunged back into the life of counting every carb, bolusing every morsel, testing day and night, worrying about A1c results, logging, fighting lows, injecting highs, advocating, educating, and paying the wages of more than one pharmacy employee.
Its a wonderful dream and for those who feel a cure is nearby, maybe its a fantasy they will bask in on a semi-regular basis. That was long enough in fantasy land for me. It was rather intoxicating but back to reality and getting that test strip out of my African violet so I can water it (I know it needs more help than that but its a start!).