I’ve got a few posts in the works, but in the meantime I recently
found this piece that I’d written a year or so ago and thought perhaps it was
one that should be shared as I focus on taking back my life in other ways.
…
The other day I received an email from a friend, a Type I
Diabetic, complaining about how a low blood sugar had cut short yet another
workout. I responded empathetically, as
I'd sent her a nearly identical text message the week before, and sighed a loud
'Diabetes Sucks'. She agreed, of course,
but pointed out that if it wasn't for diabetes, we would never be friends. I laughed, but she was right. This admission is not meant to throw support
to my friends over in the 'everything happens for a reason' corner of the
ring. However, her statement did get me
thinking. As far as I'm concerned,
diabetes is bullshit. And 'everything
happens for a reason' is bullshit. But,
when faced with adversity we still have the choice to make the most of
situations. We can choose to not play
the role of victim. We can try to find
positives in negative realities. We can
learn. We can teach. We can make a difference.
Her email made me sit back and reflect on the things that
I've gained from Diabetes. A thought
that seems completely idiotic, or at least counter-intuitive, at first glance
(unless of course you view it in the negative and almost ironic sense and say
you gain a greater risk for heart disease, kidney failure, neuropathy and
blindness, a greater risk for DKA and hospitalizations, etc.). Every time I send out a fundraising letter I
drum up statistics, I inform my readers how many (countless) times I’ve pricked
my finger to test my blood sugar and I estimate the number of insulin
injections I've taken. I tell them I'm
scared and I show them why a cure is important.
While I curse the day I was diagnosed and will continue to do that until
the day we beat this disease, I have to acknowledge that there are ways that this
diagnosis somehow contributed to my life in a positive way. I have to acknowledge the ways Diabetes has
made me who I am today and admit that in some ways I am grateful (though I’d,
of course, happily trade the so-called positives for a longer life sentence).
People often say that what doesn't kill you
makes you stronger and I suppose that line would apply here as well. Indeed, I learned I was capable of handling
things I never imagined I could handle.
As a child I was that nightmare in the doctor's office, a nurse had to actually
hold me down for my vaccinations. Today
I inject myself 6 times a day without so much as a flutter of the eyes. I also learned from a fairly young age that I
had to be responsible for myself. I was
forced to grow up in many ways, be independent and take control of my
life. It was my life, my diabetes, and I
had to learn what that meant; I had to learn what the right decisions were and
then be responsible enough to make those decisions. I had to watch out for myself. But, I am grateful for much more than this.
I have met some of my
closest friends as a result of diabetes.
Many of them have diabetes as well; others care deeply for someone
living with this disease or just care deeply about the cause. It is hard to imagine I may not know some of
these people if my pancreas had just kept on keeping on. And this phenomenon doesn't just apply to
me. Growing up, my mother, a certified
diabetes educator (and Type I herself) ran a support group. My parents met their best friends through
that support group because their daughter was diagnosed with Type I. That daughter became my sister's (another
Type I) best friend.
I went to Clara
Barton Camp (CBC) the summer I was diagnosed (and 2 more summers after that),
there I learned much more than catchy camp songs. And, boy, were those songs catchy. I learned how to treat my diabetes and to be
independent, and I also made some friends who remained pivotal in my life for
years. After CBC, one of my camp buddies
and I volunteered as counselors at another small diabetes camp, the Circle of
Life Camp, for a week at the end of each summer. We took the things we had learned from our
camp experience and taught them to the next generation. We showed them that living with diabetes doesn’t
have to stop you. We helped them take
control of their lives. After camp
ended, we tried to continue to be a support system for these campers, to the
best of our 17 year-old abilities. When
I applied to colleges, a close family friend of one of these campers asked to
write a letter of recommendation on my behalf.
She explained that I was a role model, that they were so thankful for
all I had done for this camper. At the
time I didn't think I had really done anything.
I still don't. That's the thing
about making a difference - sometimes you are not even aware of the ways you
matter. Now this 12 year-old girl who looked up to me,
has grown up to be an incredible young woman, traveling the world and receiving
grants that give her opportunities to experience things that I've only dreamed
of and that people generations ago would not have even dared imagine a diabetic
could experience. It’s funny the way
things change. Today, she inspires me.
I became (or re-became) active in the Juvenile Diabetes
Research Foundation (JDRF) at a time in my life where I needed to do something
that mattered, where I needed to feel like I mattered. I was stuck in a rut and felt myself becoming
jaded and frustrated and as a result both my mental approach and my diabetes
control suffered. In 2010 I signed up to
participate in my first JDRF Ride to Cure Diabetes. Through the Ride program I have made lasting
friendships. I've learned how to control
my diabetes while cycling for 8 full hours, and, oh yeah, I bike 100+ miles in
one day each year - no big deal. Of the
team I train with about half have diabetes.
The camaraderie that accompanies five or more people all stopping and testing
their blood glucose reading is an amazing and somewhat surreal feeling and one
that I honestly feel fortunate to have experienced. It is through these bonds, these connections
that I have become stronger, that I have learned how common and how normal,
every fear, every issue, every moment of guilt, I feel is. Through each of them I've learned how to
better control my highs and lows and I've learned so much about their struggles
and triumphs both about and despite diabetes.
One of my fellow riders competed in her first ironman over the summer. Her personal blogs about training with
diabetes are inspiring, so much so that triessential took notice and has
featured her as well.
A month after signing up for my first cycling adventure, I learned
about a junior committee or young professionals group in the NYC area committed
to raising money and awareness for Type I – the JDRF Young Leadership Committee
(YLC). I’ve gotten more and more
involved since joining, and co-chaired an amazingly fun and successful event
last winter. I've been involved with
fundraising events and brainstorming ideas and with each person I meet through the
YLC I learn more about diabetes, and in so doing I learn more about myself. With
each new way I become involved with the cause, I find myself wanting to learn
more, wanting to do more. Type I Diabetes has forced me to stand up and take
action, it has given me a voice and a purpose, it has enraged me and by
channeling that rage into action I have discovered I am capable of
accomplishing remarkable things. Through
these activities, I've found things I'm passionate about. I've made amazing friends. I've had the
opportunity to attend informative research updates. I've been involved in
planning fantastic events. And, I've
taken back my life. Now, I find it hard
to believe how much I've gained in such a short time.
In three years I have singlehandedly raised over $15,000 for
JDRF through my personal fundraising for the Ride program. I co-chaired an event for YLC that raised
$15,000 in its first year (and almost $24,000 by year 3). I can point to these numbers and say
"look, I truly have made a difference." I've made a tangible mark that I didn’t even imagine
I was capable of achieving just a few years ago. But, the truth is the dollar signs are the
least of it. On this road to the cure,
I've met many incredible people, I've challenged myself in ways I wouldn't have
dreamed I could master, I've learned so much about diabetes, about myself,
about life.
When I was first diagnosed, my mother made a point of
sharing articles about famous diabetics; athletes, actors and musicians who had
achieved their dreams and who had conquered, despite their pesky pancreas
issues. Like many Type I's (I suspect) I
read books about Mary Tyler Moore and even wrote an article about her for a
school project. I rooted for Elliot
Yamin on American Idol in 2006. I
cheered on Adam Morrison, who made it to the NBA. I watched Rock of Love (much to the dismay of
many people) to support Bret Michaels. I
followed Jay Cutler after his start in the NFL and while I'm not personally a
fan of the Jonas Brothers (you can blame my age), I appreciate Nick’s
dedication to JDRF. While, I continue to
follow famous Type I's and am thankful for what they have done to spread awareness
about Type I Diabetes, to educate the public about the differences between Type
I and Type II (a distinction many people still do not understand) and to show
the world what can be achieved despite these obstacles, I find myself more
inspired by those "real life" individuals who I have had the
privilege of getting to know as a result of this disease. I am inspired by my friend - the triathelte,
by my ex-camper - the world traveler, by my sister and my mother - nurses and certified diabetes educators, who both teach newly and not so newly
diagnosed individuals everyday and who are better at their jobs because of
their diabetes, by my friends who have shown me all the amazing things you can
accomplish with diabetes, who prove everyday that there is nothing we can't do
if we want to do it, and by the many supporters I've met along the way whose
stories and generosity have humbled me and have shown me that people, at their
core, are good, so good, the supporters who demonstrated overwhelming love and
hope in ways that I was beginning to doubt existed. It is all these people to whom I owe the
deepest gratitude, for their perseverance, their achievements, their goodness
have melted my cynical heart and they have taught me so much about life, about
what we are capable of doing with our lives.
It is these people who have inspired me to want to make a difference.
Mahatma Gandi is often quoted as saying, "be the change
you want to see in the world" and I’ve learned it is important to really
take that message to heart. It's easy to get focused on the "world"
part of that quote and view it overwhelming; as impossible, but I think by
being the change you want to see in the world you can indeed change your own
world. I have and I will continue to do
just that. And if you're very lucky
you can change (even in some small way) the worlds of those around you (or some
of those around you). When you're
inspired, you find that you want to inspire others, you learn that you can
indeed inspire others. By inspiring
others, even one other, you'll learn that you can, in fact, change the world.
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