5. A Letter to Caregivers

We are often stressed.
Grouchy.
Angry.
Hormonal.
Depressed.

We have ups and downs, we get frustrated. We feel misunderstood and pushed to the limits of sanity.
It shows in our bodies, our diaries, our ability to sleep, and our road rage.

But nowhere does it show as greatly as on our caregivers.
Unfortunately it is the ones that love us the most who suffer as much as we do from this condition that ails us. I think everyone can agree that Diabetes has just as strong (or more) an effect on our minds as our bodies, and I think it is often overlooked how much damage can be done to those around us as well. Stress and worry comes with the package. Most type 1 diabetics were diagnosed as small children (though from what I understand, that is starting to change). Parents and loved ones shoulder the hurt and confusion for us, as we slowly grow up learning and adapting to this lifestyle.

My mum is a natural worrier. I was raised with her waiting up for me at night when I went out. With her giving me advise from Oprah and Dateline... the TV programs informing us on how many predators there are out there preying on us. I look both ways and never leave my drink unattended.

I was diagnosed as an adult. But my mother still worries. And so do the others around me who care for me. Who help me when I am sick. Who looked after me for years when I did not look after myself. We resent their intrusiveness and get exasperated with their worry. They in turn, do not understand our frustration or why this disease is difficult. To many, it should be as simple as checking, eating, injecting.

We know, don't we? That it is so much more than that.
I suppose this is my message to you caregivers.

We often need time. I did. I needed time to realize that I didn't want to live that way... with high blood sugars. I didn't want to live sickly. I had so much more to achieve in life than that sick condition would allow. I needed time to realize that my rebellion towards all who questioned me about my food choices and my blood sugar and my insulin, was hurting myself and them... for what? What?

To pretend I was independent.

Dear caregiver, be patient. Be gentle. But always, always be persistent. Scaring with stories of consequences is pointless I will tell you. Yelling or lecturing with: "Fine! Go ahead and lose your feet!" and such is counterproductive. You don't want them to give up! Or feel that there is no point to trying! Being inspiring, and supportive is your most difficult quest. I think most people live and thrive against all odds, we can too! But not without help. Your help.

This little letter was inspired by my caregivers who not only faced my opposition and rebellion on a daily basis, but also my wrath, and my depression. My mother wanted me to let every caregiver out there know what is necessary. That we need time to come to terms with this ourselves, and hope that our bodies can withstand our self inflicted pain long enough to let our minds catch up with acceptance.

Here's to you.

ttyl!