Unfortunately, I've been expecting this time would come - the time when he's just had it with type 1. This school year he has made it abundantly clear he's tired of it all - the questions from classmates and well-meaning teachers, nurses, and the school counselor. Tired of testing his blood 5 times a day. Tired of having to pull his insulin pump out after every meal. Tired.
I've been asked (twice) lately what it is like to be "normal" - what is it like to not have diabetes?
It is an easy, yet a tough question. I don't want to sugar coat (pun intended) what he is going through. I am honest. I told him, "Well, for starters, I don't have to test my blood before I eat every meal. I don't have to give myself insulin for everything I eat. I don't have my parents on my butt all the time saying, 'Test your blood. Did you give yourself insulin?'" I let him know that I have no idea what it feels like to have a high or low blood sugar.
And then I told him I wish I did.
I told him that diabetes hurts me, too. It hurts that my beautiful son has it and I don't. As his mom, it hurts me to see him hurting. It hurts me to know that I can't make this better. And, if I had the opportunity, I'd take it from him. Right. Now.
He may only be 9, and not yet a parent, but I saw that he understood we have something in common. Although we live in different worlds, we aren't alone in how diabetes can hurt you. Although it didn't take away his pain, he knows he's not alone. He's never alone.
