That is how I feel today about our 6 year anniversary with diabetes.
Whatever.
Remembering this anniversary is like remembering the anniversary of your first marriage, or your first car accident, or the first time you got fired, or any other first unpleasant memory. You remember it. You don’t care about it. You’d forget about it if you could, but for some reason you just can’t.
You can’t forget your first marriage if you have kids together. You can’t forget your first marriage if you are still living in the house you bought together. You can’t forget your first marriage if you are still using his last name.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is the reason sleep occurs in 3 hour chunks.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is around 24 hours a day, it doesn’t take a vacation, a break, a siesta, a whatever, it never goes away.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is the reason my 10 year old son needs to wear an insulin pump to stay alive. Stay alive as in not die.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is the reason my son feels shaky, vomits from ketones, and gets disorientated from highs.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is the reason my son requires a 504 Plan in school. It is the reason he has to test his sugar before big tests to make sure his thinking is going to be clear. Highs and lows make him not able to perform at his best.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is the reason my 10 year old son has to carry a back pack of survival supplies with him every where he goes. Survival supplies for God’s sake, he’s a boy, not Bear Grylls.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is because of diabetes that we know the carb count of every food item IN THE WORLD.
You can’t forget diabetes because it is the reason I have to pack for a lifetime when we are just sleeping out over night.
So, yeah, I’d love to forget diabetes. I’d love to forget the day it entered our lives. I’d love to forget the anniversary.
I can’t.
What I can do, however, is treat this day like any other day with diabetes. Whatever. It is what it is. Check, treat, and MOVE ON! I will not give it anymore attention than it requires.
It will not ruin our day. Our lives. My son’s life.
So with our anniversary I say, whatever, to you diabetes. With all you do and all you bring into my son’s life, you still ain’t got nothin’ on him.
Nothin’.