
mag3737
Many of us have wondered "Why me?" when confronting this disease. It’s easy to get caught up in pity when you’re diagnosed with a chronic illness. We want a reason for our diabetes. Not a medical cause, but a legitimate human reason. What did we do to bring this on ourselves? Is it some sort of punishment? Is it a test? Is it God’s/god’s/the universe’s doing?
The "Why me?" question seems to be a necessary phase in order to fully cope with diabetes. Granted, we may never find a true answer to why this happens to us, but processing the information and coming to terms with it helps us deal.
So why ARE we one of over 180 million people in the world coping with diabetes? How did we come to develop this disease? Is it all coincidence? Is it some higher power’s comic relief? Is there a point to the daily finger sticks, insulin shots, pills, alternative treatments?
I can’t answer these questions for every one of the 180 million people with diabetes. I probably can’t even answer them for anybody but myself. And even then, I get a little fuzzy on the details.
But I can tell you that there is a point. There is a purpose. You just have to find it. Somewhere along the diabetes road, there is a sign "Purpose – 492 finger sticks away" that leads you to where you need to be with diabetes.
For me, I reached the "Purpose" sign shortly after my dad's diagnosis. I had tried to cope with diabetes before. I went through denial. I went through the pity. I went through not caring. I went through getting back on track. Finally, I reached a point of acceptance. I figured that diabetes was dealt to me so I might as well deal with diabetes. So I took my life into my own hands and made changes.
Then my dad was diagnosed, which threw everyone for a land slide. But mostly, it threw me for one causing a major avalanche in my life. I couldn’t grasp the medical cause. Why had this just surfaced for him? Why did I deal with this since I was 4 but he lucked out until he was 60? Why me? Why us?
It took me a few days to cope. But when I started making the phone calls for his doctor’s visits, making sure he was getting the care he needed, and ordering tests to tell if it was type 1 or type 2, I had a breakdown.
I realized that I was great at helping people with diabetes. I knew an endless amount of information. I could treat patients better than most doctors I know (I thank my pediatric endo for this!). I had the empathy because I daily dealt with it.
So you would think that I’d become a doctor or a CDE or something, right?
No. I’m not patient enough to sit through that much school, focusing on math and science. I hate math and science.
Instead, I have taken it upon myself to raise awareness, to get involved and to develop a place for diabetics. I have no idea where this will lead or what the end goal is. I’m simply living with diabetes and finding a purpose.
I’ve started a crusade among my friends, trying to get their involvement in things. A diabetic friend and I have recently started an online network for diabetics, focusing on the global aspect of the disease. I’m still helping my dad, offering ideas, going to doctor’s appointments and making sure the prescriptions are taken care of.
I will never know medically why this disease decided to strike my life or why it decided to strike so close to me. But I do know that with or without a medical cause, I can still find a good enough purpose to make this all worthwhile.
I’m sure I’ll still keep asking "Why me?" on occasion (when I’m 474 after an hour run) and I’ll still dream of how much easier it would be to be a non diabetic. But I won’t give up on my purpose.


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You go, girl!
So eloquently stated!