Stop at 38
In the midst of a night out with friends I was reminded that yes in fact I will not be turning 38 again. I will be 39 this May. Aging, even in the smallest of ways, is happening to me.
I bought anti-wrinkle cream for the first time ever. I'm exercising for heart health more than muscle tone. I creak. I check a different demographic when I fill out surveys. My dance moves seem a bit outdated (this makes me the most sad.)
And still my blood sugars have not quite settled into a good, solid, steady state on their own. Couldn't that have been one of the perks of living with this chronic disease, instead of an early membership to AARP? That would have been awesome. But it isn't the case. In fact my fears, and the complications to my body from having Type 1 Diabetes increases with age. Bodies, as we age, break down. And if they are soaked in sugar, like the diabetic's, they have less of a chance at lasting as long.
This hit me hard over the past few months when my doctor told me that a 41 year-old, Type 1woman had died as a result of bad control, and broken down organs. There was also an article in the local paper last month that told the story of a transplant recipient who had liver and kidney complications because of Type 1 Diabetes. Did the article go into her overall A1C's from the past years? No. Do mine compare with those who have failing health? Who knows. As of today, my blood tests come back promising, full functioning, good cholesterol, good levels, great teeth and eyes, but my A1C is high as of late-9. How does that affect my life span?
I don't necessarily sit on the edge of my bed and worry daily about how long I have to live, but I do have a wicked yearning to live the good life. All. The. Time.
It's a bit intense for my family, in particular for my sweet, patient husband who has reminded me that not every weekend needs to be filled with things to do. Not everything has to be perfect. Not everything happens right away. And sometimes the things that take time, are worth the wait.
But what if I don't have the time to wait?
I catch myself looking at the calendar of things happening in our area, and wonder if we are missing out. Did I show my kids enough, take them to enough new places, explain the natural world and show them the beauty of things, and did I remember to laugh all the while? Am I a good mother? Have I failed them? Who am I beneath my motherhood? Did I travel like I wanted to when I was 19? Am I a success? These questions are not unique to Type 1 mothers, but they are exacerbated by the idea that this life, as long as it should be, may be cut short because of my non-functioning pancreas.
I divulged to my husband recently that many times when I ask for his help, and demand that he read with enthusiasm during bedtime stories, or learn to put our daughter's hair up, or cook a meal, or take over on driving our boys and their friends somewhere, I am prepping him for my "what if." I've done this for a while, and I can look at our functioning home, happy and crazy family, and know that we have succeeded in so many ways.
I don't want to stop at 38, subconsciously, maybe I do want to hit pause. I feel good, healthy, alive, and in control. I have work to do, a life to live, mouths to feed, and laughs to laugh. The seriousness of this disease can be overwhelming. In defense of my high A1C I reminded my doctor of what a good Diabetic I was when I was first diagnosed. "Ah, that was before you had children!" We laughed and I took that as a kind gesture from my doc, an understanding of the difficult balance that we are presented with when we choose to make a family. And as the month has progressed, I have discovered that this is my challenge, one that takes time, and is totally worth the wait.
In the midst of a night out with friends I was reminded that yes in fact I will not be turning 38 again. I will be 39 this May. Aging, even in the smallest of ways, is happening to me.
I bought anti-wrinkle cream for the first time ever. I'm exercising for heart health more than muscle tone. I creak. I check a different demographic when I fill out surveys. My dance moves seem a bit outdated (this makes me the most sad.)
And still my blood sugars have not quite settled into a good, solid, steady state on their own. Couldn't that have been one of the perks of living with this chronic disease, instead of an early membership to AARP? That would have been awesome. But it isn't the case. In fact my fears, and the complications to my body from having Type 1 Diabetes increases with age. Bodies, as we age, break down. And if they are soaked in sugar, like the diabetic's, they have less of a chance at lasting as long.
This hit me hard over the past few months when my doctor told me that a 41 year-old, Type 1woman had died as a result of bad control, and broken down organs. There was also an article in the local paper last month that told the story of a transplant recipient who had liver and kidney complications because of Type 1 Diabetes. Did the article go into her overall A1C's from the past years? No. Do mine compare with those who have failing health? Who knows. As of today, my blood tests come back promising, full functioning, good cholesterol, good levels, great teeth and eyes, but my A1C is high as of late-9. How does that affect my life span?
I don't necessarily sit on the edge of my bed and worry daily about how long I have to live, but I do have a wicked yearning to live the good life. All. The. Time.
It's a bit intense for my family, in particular for my sweet, patient husband who has reminded me that not every weekend needs to be filled with things to do. Not everything has to be perfect. Not everything happens right away. And sometimes the things that take time, are worth the wait.
But what if I don't have the time to wait?
I catch myself looking at the calendar of things happening in our area, and wonder if we are missing out. Did I show my kids enough, take them to enough new places, explain the natural world and show them the beauty of things, and did I remember to laugh all the while? Am I a good mother? Have I failed them? Who am I beneath my motherhood? Did I travel like I wanted to when I was 19? Am I a success? These questions are not unique to Type 1 mothers, but they are exacerbated by the idea that this life, as long as it should be, may be cut short because of my non-functioning pancreas.
I divulged to my husband recently that many times when I ask for his help, and demand that he read with enthusiasm during bedtime stories, or learn to put our daughter's hair up, or cook a meal, or take over on driving our boys and their friends somewhere, I am prepping him for my "what if." I've done this for a while, and I can look at our functioning home, happy and crazy family, and know that we have succeeded in so many ways.
I don't want to stop at 38, subconsciously, maybe I do want to hit pause. I feel good, healthy, alive, and in control. I have work to do, a life to live, mouths to feed, and laughs to laugh. The seriousness of this disease can be overwhelming. In defense of my high A1C I reminded my doctor of what a good Diabetic I was when I was first diagnosed. "Ah, that was before you had children!" We laughed and I took that as a kind gesture from my doc, an understanding of the difficult balance that we are presented with when we choose to make a family. And as the month has progressed, I have discovered that this is my challenge, one that takes time, and is totally worth the wait.
Comments
To all those that face daily challenges, reading blogs like this one and seeing that life does go on and does not freeze once bad news is handed to you, tells you that a fighting is not physical but mental and you do not have to do it alone.
Thank you for sharing your amazing life with us.