In An Instant

I thought my life was going to change. I had the slightest glimmer of what it was going to look like, and I was prepared for it.  I remember – and I have been witness to – what it was like for my brother, my SIL, and my nephew – even my niece. That glimpse penetrated deeper as I thought my reality was going to be similar.

I understood on a level I have not understood before and, yet – more than ever – I know that I am not able to comprehend.  We all know – or at least we all say – that you cannot understand the life of another without first standing in their shoes.  Even the most empathetic of us cannot possibly know what another’s experience is.

I have always known this – that even when my heart burns with pain and anguish upon hearing the struggles of others – that I haven’t the slightest idea of what it feels like.  Though I am burdened by depression when I hear sirens because all I can think about is that someone’s life has just changed – though my heart weighs heavy – I know that, really, I’m only at the edge.

Today, I am enlightened to how eagerly I should be counting my blessings, how joyously I should sing and how loudly I should express my gratitude.

This morning, I woke up thinking “We couldn’t possibly both be diagnosed with diabetes today.  That just can’t happen, can it?  Well, of course it can.  We could be the ones that this happens to.”

I was waiting for my yearly A1C blood test results. Since the birth of Ellie, when I had gestational diabetes, I have had my blood sugars tested.  A few years ago, I crossed over the line that separates “normal” from pre-diabetic.  Last year, my sugars had reached a level where – if I increased by the same amount this year – I would be defined as diabetic.

I took the test on Friday.  My results were to be delivered on Monday.

Over the weekend, I was called to pick up Aaron from a friend’s house.  His throat was hurting and I was told he had guzzled a lot of water since he had been there.  Those words vibrated in my heart.  I had been paying attention to Aaron’s water intake over the past few days.  He was drinking water NON-STOP.

I knew this to be one of the signs of diabetes and could pinpoint several other known symptoms.  Was it coincidental or was something going on?

This morning (Monday), I filled his 24-oz water bottle four times before we even arrived at the doctor at 9:00am.  That does not count the two times I filled it during the night.

Yesterday (Sunday), we visited urgent care to get Aaron’s throat checked out. I asked them to check his blood sugars, and we discovered that they were elevated.  After a urine test showed sugar in his urine, we left the urgent care with orders for an A1C blood test.  He did not have strep.

I was prepared for my life to change - anticipating what might unfold in the coming weeks.

Aaron is fine.  He does not have diabetes.  My A1C came back lower than it was last year. 

My heart remains heavy.  I know Melissa (and Matthew and Billy) would have stepped in and given me all the answers, support, and advice that I needed.  I know how grateful I am to have been knowledgeable about what Aaron’s symptoms could mean and to pay attention to early signs.  I know how darn lucky I am that his symptoms were, in actuality, coincidental symptoms.

I have not stepped into her shoes (Melissa’s feet are much smaller than mine) and – thankfully – I’ll remain naïve about living a diabetic life or helping a diabetic child to live his.

But I’m also moved – and not simply because it’s my brother, not because it’s my sister in law, not because it’s my nephew  (and, believe me – those are powerful reasons!!) – because I know a little bit more…. just a little bit.

This year, JDRF has a special fundraiser to honor the mothers who care for children with type 1diabetes.  100% of the funds collected will go directly to research.  My brother and my nephew wrote letters honoring my SIL, Melissa.  

https://jdrf-illinois.ejoinme.org/?tabid=454303&joinme=25381

When my nephew became Bar Mitzvah, I talked with him about the gift I wanted to give him.  I wanted to donate to JDRF in his honor, but I also wanted to give him some of the money for his bank account.  I solicited his input on how to distribute the money.  Matthew told me to give it to JDRF – that they needed it more than he did.  Then he said, “No, actually, I need JDRF to have it.”

Someday, we will have a cure for diabetes.  I want to be a part of that.