On a day that we Raise Our Voices for Diabetes, I thought it might be interesting to hear an unfamiliar voice.

With Susanne only having a few days at home before she must return to her armwrestling team in Reno, Nevada, to train for the Women's U.S. Open, I thought I'd invite her to be a guest blogger. Take it away, Muscles.

I think I was very accepting and calm when the doctor confirmed Charlie's diagnosis. It's strange because I don't think I really understood the long haul and challenges that were ahead. (How could anyone?) Type 1 diabetes was not a new disease to me. I was, or thought I was, familiar with it. My younger brother has it. He was diagnosed at 18.

We thought he had the flu. From there, okay, fine, he can't have sugar, right? When he is "low" he needs orange juice and a banana. Fine. The only change in our house that I could see was that there was diet soda in the refrigerator with Patrick's name on it. So when the doctor told me Charlie had diabetes, I think I thought okay, no sugar and no more apple juice.

It still surprises me how very little I knew about type 1 diabetes. I mean, I had lived with someone with diabetes. I knew nothing about the constant blood sugar checks and why they are so necessary. I had no clue of the risk of complications or the long term wear and tear on the body. Nor did I know that whenever my brother ate something with carbs in it, he needed to count his carbohydrates and measure out his insulin accordingly, let alone take four shots a day. I had no idea that the carb/insulin ratio may not always be right or that it changes so frequently. That what works one day, may not work the next.

The lack of control, the uncertainty, the frightening long term, the even more frightening severe lows, Glucagon, ketones, endless worry, the look on my little boys face when he is low or high or the feeling I get in my gut when I ask him how he feels and he replies, "I feel fine. Like a normal boy without diabetes."

Type 1 diabetes is so complicated. There are just too many variables. I remember asking by brother about it once, long before I was married or a mother. I recall him struggling to explain it, and I thought he was just being private. He really couldn't explain it. I often feel like I speak a different language when I try to explain carb/insulin ratios and infusion sets and bad sites or even the pump. Not that I think people aren't smart enough to follow along, it is just so complicated. I do tell people Charlie has diabetes and I try to explain that insulin is not a cure and he will have it forever or until there is a cure. I am surprised how many people actually think that juvenile diabetes means that you only have it for as long as you are a child. That once you are no longer a child, it just goes away. Don't we all wish?

Carey finds writing these blogs to be cathartic. I sometimes think he reveals too much. I have noticed that since he has been writing these blogs and has become friends with fellow bloggers, we have taken on a bit of a role reversal. In the beginning, the first 2-3 years, I was kind of obsessed with diabetes. It was all I talked about, read about, thought about and filled every minute of my day and night. I would have to know constantly what Charlie's blood sugar was and try to predict where it was heading. While Carey took more of a laid-back approach. He definitely was involved and concerned, but he was always saying, "he'll be fine." Now, Carey is the one who talks about it, writes about it, reads about it, wakes up two times a night to check sugars. He gets very upset when Charlie's sugars are high. Profanity usually follows a 2 am blood sugar check. "Oh, F!" is how I know Charlie is high. Of course my version of laid back is only checking blood sugars 10 times a day as opposed to 15.

It is not in my nature to relinquish control, so this role reversal I believe is a result of diabetes burnout. I just don't think a person can go at that pace for such a long stretch of time without getting beaten down. I imagine Carey will soon suffer burnout and we will switch roles again.

I have read so many of your encouraging comments regarding Charlie. Thank you so much. It seems Charlie has made some friends out there. And thank you for listening. I appreciate all that you do to change the general public's misconception of this disease and I wish you all the best.

Susanne