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 in Reality There are just a few things I know without question, such as, life and time are the best of all teachers, and they work fairly well together. One of their most poignant lessons for me is to be careful about making definitive statements about what I will or will not do, where I will or will not go, what I can or cannot withstand. These two sage instructors have...
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...