Jon Kneller
Fifteen years. A decade and a half. Thousands of days. Millions of minutes. Over half my life.
It doesn't seem real that I've lived with diabetes for fifteen years. It doesn't seem fathomable that this is only the first fifteen years of many more. I can't imagine how the rest of my life will daily involve diabetes despite the daily involvement of the last fifteen years. I just can't picture more infusion sets, more doctors appointments, more worries.
As much as I can't fathom the rest of my life with diabetes, I really can't imagine the rest of my life without diabetes. If I were cured today, I wouldn't know what to do, feel, or think. After fifteen years of diabetes, it's a part of life, a part of me. How would I handle removing a part of my own life?
No testing, no lows, no A1c's, no explaining about the needles in my purse or the "pager" on my hip. No worrying if I've eaten enough, exercised too little or judged the carbs right. I think it would take years to stop wanting to go through the motions. It would take awhile to break the habit of checking my blood sugar first thing in the morning. I would have to "retrain" my brain not to count carbs, estimate boluses, or always have glucose with me. It would be an entirely new life.
And what would I label myself? Post-diabetic, person that once had diabetes, or ex-diabetic? How would I present myself to the world? I would finally be healthy. I wouldn't be a hazard with my needles and bodily fluids. I'd finally have to obey the no food policy. How would society label me? Would I still be at "heightened risk" for everything? Would they still say I needed a flu shot (you know the list: the elderly, children under six, those around infants, diabetics, etc)? How would I really be viewed?
In the last fifteen years of my life, I've been a diabetic. In the next fifteen years of my life, I could still be a diabetic or I could be an ex-diabetic. If we finally get a cure, maybe we'll all have these questions and worries about life after diabetes. Maybe we'll be blogging about the stereotypes and emotional issues of that life. Maybe we'll compare the differences between life before and after that pivotal cure. Maybe, just maybe.
Hey, girl, can I relate! Just add 39.5 years to the 15 you've experienced, though. I was a year and ten months old when diagnosed and turned 56 last November. Being told (later by my parents who were told by the medicos) that I probably wouldn't live past the age of 18 has made me pretty open about sharing what age I am now. Life IS good! LuAnn
LuAnn- Your story makes me smile! I have to agree that every year is a gift when you have this disease! I'm so glad you're here to share!
Lindsey--Me, too. You did such a great job on your first blog message that I wrote my first ever blog response to what you wrote. That, and the fact that if you have any hope of living very long, diabetes is a part of everything you think and do. Maybe you have to live it to know exactly what that's like. I'm glad to be sharing thoughts, etc., with you, too. You have a gift of expressing yourself well, and sharing with someone who not only understands but also cares about living a long, full life is a treat.