#DBlogWeek – Diabetes Hero
Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our “Diabetes Hero”. It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire, someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3. It might be a fabulous endo or CDE. It could be a d-celebrity or role-model. It could be another DOC member. It’s up to you – who is your Diabetes Hero??
Arg, late on the Bandwagon. Can’t blame me! Yesterday was a -gorgeous- day and I took advantage of it by going outside with my son. Something we both needed. The sun, nice breeze, a walk and later in the afternoon, a caramel sunday. Hmmmm! Deliciousness.
So, for the last blog subject; Your Diabetes Hero.
While there are tons of great artists out there that are type 1 diabetics, endos included, my diabetes hero is not diabetic. She actually isn’t from this world anymore, either.
My D-Hero is my mother.
When I was diagnosed, to her, it was like loosing a child once again. My sister had passed away at the age of 13 back in 1999 from a stupid roller-blading accident. (Everyone should wear a helmet! It’s VERY important!) And while I kept saying “It’s okay! I’m alive!” at the hospital, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her daughter was sick, permanently sick, and it was another thing that could potentially take her only daughter left away. I stayed at the hospital for a whole week, they tried to bring my BG down quickly, my eyes were failing, I knew nothing about the disease and had to go to classes, too. She visited me at the hospital every single day. The first two nights, she had skipped work and stayed with me. She went to classes with me, to understand what was wrong with me and how to ‘treat’ it and she patiently waited outside my room while they would fill jars of blood for tests.
It’s when we got home that my mother became my d-hero.
The things my mother did… Just to keep me safe. Her first grocery shopping trip was 3 hours long. I didn’t go with her, but I knew what was going on; she was checking every side of boxes, bottles, cartons, to count the carbs. The lowest it was, the better. She was buying ‘food I could eat’ without having to inject a ton of insulin. She got recipes books with low sugar and proceeded to cook and bake on the same day.
Every single day, my mother had a new recipe to show me. She was focused on keeping me alive as long she could. And for months she took care of me like I was a porcelain doll. She was even teaching her customers how many carbs were in their plates! (She was a waitress).
She did this right up until she was too weak to.
My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2007 and passed away in March 2008.
But she was, and still is, my diabetes hero.