My bruised right hand has an IV port continuously putting something called insulin in my body. This is first time in weeks where I haven’t had to take a leak. A nurse just told me that I will be pricking myself and taking shots for the rest of my life – pretty sweet news as a nine year old. My parents look completely distraught, drained by the question, “Is this our fault?” Some diabetes educator hands me a book on how to have courage and count carbohydrates. That’s a cool word but I have no idea what it means. Now my endocrinologist reenters the room asking an important question, “Ryan, now it’s time to test your blood sugar. Would you like to prick yourself or would you like your parents to do it for you?” I look up into the caring, worried eyes of my parents. I gaze down at my hands. I make eye contact with my physician and say, “Give me the damn needle.”
Fine, I didn’t say damn. That would have been cool and that line is definitely going in my movie. Regardless, what I did do is take that lancet and prick my finger. From that day forward, the disease was mine – including all of the deep moments of hatred and the brief instances of invincibility. I have been dead-set on living my life, not living the life we have been told to live. Amber and I created this blog to inspire all of us with diabetes to not get cheated. To not be the victim.To overcome the obstacles.To be… you.
Here’s my biggest fear. One day I will die. I’ll be lying there with only a few breaths left, looking back at life. The question I’ve asked myself daily since diagnosis enters my mind, “What would my life have been like without diabetes?” My answer better be, “Not near as complete.” Diabetes will make us who we are but it will never define us. Are you ready to join Diabetes Daily Grind on our journey?
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