This is the last day of Diabetes Blog Week and I'm proud to say I saw it through to the end. I'm even more delighted to have made so many new friends! Thanks to Karen of Bitter-Sweet for making this happen. And thanks to all the bloggers who shared your feelings so eloquently. I enjoyed reading your words. And given the sheer volume of blogs out there who participated I'll be enjoying your words for days, dare I say weeks to come.
The morning after my daughter’s diagnosis, while I sat cradling her weak little frame in my arms in a hospital room, the tears streaming down my face in a non-stop cascade, a doctor entered the room - the same doctor that doubted my suspicion that Jenna was displaying symptoms of diabetes and reluctantly wrote a requisition for lab work only three days before.
He sat and talked to me about Jenna's diagnosis. He told me a cure was very close. My heart skipped a beat and for a moment the flow of tears slowed.
The morning after my daughter’s diagnosis, while I sat cradling her weak little frame in my arms in a hospital room, the tears streaming down my face in a non-stop cascade, a doctor entered the room - the same doctor that doubted my suspicion that Jenna was displaying symptoms of diabetes and reluctantly wrote a requisition for lab work only three days before.
He sat and talked to me about Jenna's diagnosis. He told me a cure was very close. My heart skipped a beat and for a moment the flow of tears slowed.
“Really? ...a cure?!” I said with a sudden surge of hope.
“Oh yes. A cure is no further away than five years” he responded. This gave me a great deal of hope. As I type that statement now I feel foolish at how very naive I was.
Since that day in the hospital I have done what I needed to do to cope. I have educated myself so that I would be better equipped to manage Jenna’s diabetes and keep her as healthy as I can for the next five years so that the damage to her body is minimized for when she can line up for that cure that is so close. But during this self-education I also became aware of the fact that doctors have been promising type 1 diabetics a cure “within five years” for the past thirty years. My hope for a cure has been put firmly into perspective. As much as I want to believe a cure will happen in my daughter’s lifetime, the most I allow myself to truly hope for is improvements in treatments.
I won’t stop fundraising or raising awareness though. I’ll talk to whoever will listen and educate those who need educating. I will keep fighting as long as I’m alive. I’m the parent of a child with type 1 diabetes - a disease requiring attention every minute of every hour of every day of her life. A disease that threatens her longevity and quality of life. A disease who’s very treatment could endanger her life. When Jenna gets tired and has lost her will to keep believing, as has happened to so many other adults living most of their lives with this disease waiting for a cure that never comes, I will still be fighting.
But you can bet your next order of diabetes supplies I'll be throwing the grandest gala ever thrown if...IF a cure is found.
But you can bet your next order of diabetes supplies I'll be throwing the grandest gala ever thrown if...IF a cure is found.
1 comment:
I'm completely angry at the gall of this doctor to give you such hope with such certainty. I remember the flippancy of the fellow who mentioned 10 years to me and I'm disgusted. It was only days before I realized what false hope it was. Is this promise in a doctor's text book somewhere? Why are they all saying this?
As you, I will continue to hope in both a cure and in advanced therapies.
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