The Intangibles of My Islet Transplant I think everyone prefers to live with some level of control. But for those like me, control is a powerful drug—something beyond preference. When it’s threatened, my anxiety can be crippling, and I will fight like a dog to protect it. It seems as if the people who experience real inner peace are those who can hold on to control with a loose grip. But for...
Islet Transplantation as Theory I have never liked science. At least not the learning of it. I simply have no hooks in my brain for that kind of information. High school chemistry inflicted a specific form of torture, the memory of which still triggers a facial tick to this day. The careful choice of lab partner was the only reason I didn’t fail the class. Yet, years later, I found myself at the...
Hope as a Doubled-Edged Sword If someone were to ask me to tell them an interesting fact about myself, I’d probably answer with something like, “Well, I am written up in a small collection of medical journals. In the world of islet cell transplants I am known as Denver Patient C.” It’s a bit of an interesting story, really. Some aspects are more of a torrid tale. Others the recounting of an epic...
Twice I’ve held my daughter in my arms unconscious and not breathing, praying our intervention was not too late. But by the grace of God, it wasn’t, though I choose not to dwell on those moments if I can help it. There were other scares, too many others, that I only learned about later. A call from the paramedics or her brother or her roommate or her after the immediate danger had passed. I have...
“Teach us everything. We want to know what to do so Sophie can be with us.” Friends of ours came to us with this request just weeks after my daughter’s diagnosis. It may not sound like a big deal to anyone who does not have a child with diabetes. But it was one of the kindest gifts we’ve ever been given. I still get a bit chocked up when I think about it. I’ve written before about how diabetes is...
A few months after my daughter was diagnosed, she and I were sitting in our car in the Target parking lot when, without warning, her face cracked like a pebble-struck windshield, and she started to sob. “I don’t want to have diabetes,” she wept. It was the first emotional response we’d seen from her regarding this new life that was thrust upon her uninvited, and I began to weep with her. “I...
The child of a diabetic mother, my little girl was born big—sugar babies they’re called. Plucked from my belly before 38 weeks for my sake, she already weighed more than nine pounds. But her lungs were small and wet and not ready for the world. My diabetic body had failed her. Despite all my efforts to carry her longer, my body would not hold out long enough to give her the time she needed to...
Diabetes is a concept most people are familiar with. Yet, in my experience, very few people have a firm grip on what diabetes actually is or the realities that diabetics live with every day. Here are a few simple facts that may surprise you. The statistics vary slightly, but approximately 1.6 million Americans live with type 1 diabetes (T1D), 9 million globally. There was a 21% increase in the...
When I was diagnosed with diabetes it was 1976 and I had to measure my glucose levels by peeing in a cup. In truth, I had to pee in a cup twice 30 minutes apart. The urine had to be fresh, not long stored in my bladder, for greater accuracy. So my bladder had to be emptied, and I had to learn to master the musculature of this organ so I could go again half an hour later. It was a lot to ask of a...
A number of years ago, I was chastised by a young diabetes educator when I referred to myself as a diabetic. “You are not a diabetic! You are a person with diabetes. You are not defined by it.” Her indignation still rings in my ears. Apparently, this was the wisdom of the day in the world of diabetes education. Maybe it still is, maybe not. I don’t know. But, in that moment, had someone snapped a...