Diabetes is Messy
Recently, I got a phone call from a friend. “Well, my life just got turned upside down,” she said, without missing a beat. “They’ve just diagnosed Noah with diabetes”(name has been changed). After I hung up, I was remembering what it was like to be new to the type 1 parents club. One memory stood out: We were being checked out of the hospital after our initial stay. The Certified Diabetes Educator who had trained us must have said something because I responded: “Oh, we won’t have any lows.” She looked startled, like I had pulled her up short, and she said, haltingly, “Well, lows do happen.”
Not to me. I was sure. That would never happen in my household. It might help if I give a little backstory here: I grew up with a dad who had type 1 — and a lot of uncontrolled lows. The kind where we had to call 911 because he seemed so drunk and out of control. The kind that took us to the hospital. The kind that were frankly terrifying. So, fast-forward to my son’s diagnosis: I certainly wasn’t going to put my family through any of that. I was going to be absolutely, firmly, fully and completely IN CONTROL.
I suspect that parts of this story are familiar to you, too. You have the idea at diagnosis that you’re going to get this right, that not only is that possible, but that you have the skill set and determination and love to do the work to be sure that numbers are in range all the time. Or, if numbers are out of range, they won’t be that far out of range. Like 185. Tops. When you hear stories about other families whose kids aren’t cooperative about diabetes or whose child’s blood sugars are actually sometimes in the high 200s, you think, “Well, that will never happen to us.”
And they don’t tell you anything different when they release you from the hospital. How could they? Would you listen? I know I didn’t and wouldn’t have. Lows were never going to happen in my house, despite what that well-meaning CDE said. And the first time that scary low came, I cried as I fed my son juice in his sleep. I had promised myself that this would never happen— and I couldn’t keep that promise.
That’s the thing about diabetes: Ultimately, it’s humbling. We learn that we can’t be perfect — and that if we aim for that too hard, other things in our lives suffer — our kid can’t eat pizza or go to the birthday party. We learn that we have to be more flexible — and that diabetes is about more than just the numbers.
Struggling to get some emotional balance while you’re trying to also get the numbers right? Check out my introductory Sweet Talk course. Because when you’re doing better with diabetes, your T1D kid will do better too