What do you think life would be like if a cure was discovered and you no longer had diabetes?
I would feel like I wouldn’t have to do anything like check my sugar. I would feel like I was free from diabetes. I would be happy.
I think I would be bored sometimes because of all the things I wouldn’t have to do. Like I would feel like I was forgetting something if I didn’t do anything before I ate.
I think I might feel like I was vibrating where DexCom usually is because I would remember that. My fingers and toes wouldn’t look like they had holes in them.
I would have a celebration with a bunch of meters around a table for decoration and then make a cake with a meter on it that says “100” and under that “Cure for D”. We could also make a piñata in the shape of a pricker and make a big over-sized hand to beat it with. Since the pricker is normally poking the hand, the hand will have a chance to win.
I am a little of both. I am cautiously optimistic. That’s how I am in general, and I am the same as it relates developments in diabetes research and potential advances.
A friend blogged about her sadness regarding the outlook for a cure for diabetes after hearing the reactions from others to this week’s news. The fact that a time frame of five to ten years for a cure has been given to people diagnosed with diabetes for tens of years was a little more than discouraging. I understand and relate to this.
I don’t think people are made much more skeptical than I am. I have this book which dedicates a page to every day of the year and describes what people are like based upon the day of the year they were born. My day is called “The day of the hard look”. It defines me perfectly – anyone who knows me is fascinated at the eeriness of the accuracy of this book as it relates to me.
That being said, I have hope.
I don’t really understand why people (doctors) need to define a time frame to this. I suppose it’s because it’s something we all want to hear. Giving it definition when it is IMPOSSIBLE to define is what makes this situation that we are in. Once the measurement is defined, we have something to look at and say, “well that didn’t work – they were wrong – they lied – it WON’T happen.”
But I haven’t given up. The time frame may be wrong, but the theory, I believe, is right.
There ARE resources – many resources – tasked to tackle this. I don’t have the slightest clue when their efforts will be realized, but I truly believe they will be. It may be 100 years from now, it may be 10. But I believe this puzzle will be solved.
None of us are sitting around waiting for a cure. We are all doing everything we can to keep ourselves or our kids healthy now.
Now I am NOT saying that insulin is a cure, because I know darn well that it is not. But for these people it might as well have been. From their perspective it was.
I hate what diabetes does and makes us all do as much as anyone. But, I am so very, very thankful (ok, I’m choking up now) that Caleb has the benefit of the advancements that exist today. Even on the worst of days, when I don’t think I can take another second of the crap that diabetes presents us, I remind myself it could be so much worse.
I don’t know when there will be a cure, but I am still hopeful.
More than that, I am hopeful that along the way there will be many more advancements that will make living with diabetes easier and safer. If there are as many in the next 10 years as there were in the last 10 years, living with diabetes in 2020, when Caleb is just 17, will be a very different thing than it is today.
I have read a lot of the responses to Wednesday’s news and appreciate the varying perspectives that have been shared. Although different, and at times at opposite ends of the spectrum, I am able to relate to most of them.
I am “the day of the hard look”. No one who knows me would argue this. But I am still optimistic. Cautiously optimistic, but optimistic nevertheless.
A little over a year after Caleb was diagnosed, when the fog had cleared, we had experienced all our “firsts” and things were more or less chugging along, my attentions shifted. The present was under control, now what about the future?
I made my first video. The intent was to bring attention to work being done to find a cure for type 1 diabetes. It turned into so much more than that. It entered me into a world I hadn’t realized existed, or at least one that I could be so much a part of.
Caleb, his face, his story, his personality, have all stretched across the world and brought me, and him, within reach of a support system that we would not otherwise have. I am so grateful for this unexpected byproduct.
This is my first work. When I made it, I could not watch it without crying. No matter how many times I watched it, I would choke up. Now when I watch it, there are two things that I note: (1) how much more effective my message could have been had I made it more succinctly (yes, it’s long – sorry), and (2) how my perspective has changed. The story is still true. The spirit of the message still resounds. But now I know the Caleb who has been living with diabetes for almost three years. He has adapted. He has flourished. He has shown me what perseverance is. Diabetes does not define Caleb. He just happens to be living with it. I can watch the video now without tears because I know that Caleb.
So, as this and other videos I have made begin, This is Caleb…
We walked to raise diabetes awareness and funds for a cure. We were overwhelmed by the generous response from our friends and family. We set out with a total goal of $1,000, hoping for perhaps $500 of contributions that we would match. You met that challenge and more than doubled it. Thank you so much for all your support!
I’ve seen so many pictures of walk teams with blue skies, colorful t-shirts and well, sun and warmth. Our pictures are a little different. But that’s okay. We walked in honor of Caleb and all PWD because we want better for them.
I’m so proud of my family. It was pouring on us, forty degrees, strong winds whipping our faces and our path was riddled with puddles. Lila was “bubble girl”, essentially wrapped in plastic. Not a single complaint from anyone. Caleb, Colin and David were the last walkers there – still trudging through the mud and puddles while others were packing their vehicles or were long gone.
Then we returned to our vehicle, took off our soaking layers and headed home, stopping for a well deserved treat of Dunkin’ Donuts on the way (I’m happy to report BG has been hovering between 80 and 100, with a nice flat arrow).
I knew we would create a memory today. I had pictured it differently, but it’s a great memory nonetheless!