I love age 5. LOVE IT. At this age, she still holds your hand. You receive about 10 "I love you!" cards a day. She is in love with life. Every day she tells you this is her best day ever.
Lately I've been trying to "Live Like Leah". Usually I'm like Homer Simpson in the Simpsons Movie. After being publicly humiliated, Bart tells his dad, "This is the worst day of my life!" Homer, giving his best fatherly advice, tells Bart, "This is the worst day of your life so far."
I've met a lot of families with more than one child with type 1. Everyday I wait for the proverbial other shoe to fall. I analyze everything my little non-type 1ers do. Why are they asking for water in the middle of the night? Why are the peeing so much? They are crabby lately. Why are they so crabby lately? Should I test their blood? When is it going to happen again?
When am I going to experience a day that tops my worst day ever?
I've done all I can to keep that day away. The problem is, there is no prevention. Every year Leah is tested to see if she is developing the auto antibodies to that lead to type 1. This year Cole will start the testing as well. It rips at my heart to see that needle break her skin and take that blood sample. The sample that will take six weeks to analyze - the longest six weeks of my life.
When the letter from the University of Minnesota finally appears in my mailbox, I shake. I search immediately for the "no auto antibodies are present at this time" line. It is my best day ever.
I know a cure is on the horizon. I must think like Leah. I must trust that every is my best day ever. And that tomorrow it will only be better.
Today is the best day of my life, so far.
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