LIVING with Diabetes Contest Entry: Group 3


We’ve lived with diabetes for almost 10 years now. Remembering the day O was diagnosed still gets me upset. In retrospect, it should have been obvious to everyone, but at the time, I felt like I was howling in the wind, screaming out for someone, anyone, to see that there was something wrong with this child, something wasn’t right. When I finally got a diagnosis, I was almost relieved. Diabetes. OK, we can live with this. It’s not leukemia, which was what I had feared was the problem.

And in those ten years, we have lived with it. It’s accompanied her to her first day of pre-school, her first day of kindergarten, always there, always present in the meter tucked into her back pack, in the roll of glucose tablets in her coat pocket. There in the juice boxes and peanut butter crackers sent to school with expensive regularity. There in the carb counts on the school lunch menus.

At this point, it’s almost seamless, this life with diabetes. I can do a pump site change in about 20 seconds, sliding that huge Silhouette needle into her tummy or thigh or hip with hardly a flinch - from either of us. She checks her blood sugars, knows what to do for a high or a low and we move on with our day. She plays soccer and checks on the side lines. She goes swimming and hands me her pump to hold, coming out of the water regularly for blood sugar checks and boluses. They take seconds - seconds that never seem to phase her, never seem to make her annoyed or upset, because this is what it is - our life. Our diabetes life.