I am very, very sad today. I miss my dad a lot… and yes, I’m sacred. Often, I don’t sleep well late at night, thinking I will have the same fate. I am scared that the diet and exercise will stop working, and that whatever meds they put me on then, will stop working, and that even the insulin… will not be enough.
I am sad, and I am scared, because my dad went through all of that, in such a small amount of time: He was diagnosed at 40, and died at 63. Yet he was just a Type 2… who managed his Diabetes as long as he could. I am sad, and angry, and I feel ostracized because many people react like we chose our disease, and like we have the ‘wrong’ form of Diabetes… or like we can make our Diabetes magically go away. I don’t think my dad chose dialysis, amputation, blindness, the loss of use of his legs… My dad was not a thin man when he was diagnosed, but he was not obese either.
My dad lost whatever extra weight he had, and got really thin (too thin) and he followed the diets, did the exercises… and Diabetes was manageable, for a little while.
He took the pills and Diabetes was again, manageable for a little while…
And then he took the insulin… and things, again, were just manageable… for a little while…
And then he died.
He lost his war against Diabetes… Just like his father before him… and his brothers before him.
We have it so ‘good,’ they say… So good that we don’t get the complications right way… Oh joy, that I won’t have to have a foot amputated today, but maybe when I’m 63, like my father. I just have it so ‘peachy keen,’ don’t I? I won’t die now, but maybe when my children are young adults, and need my guidance the most… Like my father did. Why do we have to play these games, of “I am more of a victim than thou and more righteous than tho” because I got the ‘proper’ type of Diabetes? Why? Can’t we just support each other, and help find a cure?
When I was a child, I never understood why all the marathons for raising money were just for Type 1, and meanwhile, my dad was slowly dying… Just a little more, at a time, every day. I thought people didn’t care about helping save my dad. I for one, did not choose to develop Thyroid problems, and Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and metabolic malfunctions that triggered severe insulin resistance, and made me overweight. I have never been much of an eater to begin with. I was a thin, thin child… and my parents would try to force me to eat, every day. I was not diagnosed with most of these issues until I was 16 years of age, and am still having thyroid issues, and being changed meds all the time. People like me gain weight because of the diseases… They did not develop the diseases because they gained weight.
I am tired of feeling like I have to apologize to others, for somehow having gotten ‘the wrong kind of Diabetes.’ I am tired, and I am not going to do it anymore. And whoever wants to cry me a river, and have a ‘who’s the bigger victim of this disease’ competition, quite honestly, needs to go to therapy. We deserve support too, and caring and compassion. We deserve ACCURATE information in the media. Not the nonsense and drivel they keep advertising every day, like Diabetes somehow only affects old people, and overweight people. All the old people get the economic assistance… but if you’re young, and lost your job, and have diabetes, you are SCREWED.
I want to fight this together… But I am not going to let myself be pushed around by anyone, not even other Diabetics, regardless of how much more of a victim they may feel themselves to be. This is OUR community, too… and we deserve it, as well. Last I read, the top logo didn’t say tuT1diabetes.org. It said tudiabetes.org. So please… spare me the abuse… I don’t know what my tomorrow is going to look like, but I keep trying, just like everyone else. I’m just going to worry about my today… because somehow, tomorrow… will take care of itself. Even if I die at 63.