When I married my husband, I was forced to learn all
about Type 1 Juvenile Diabetes. He is now 72 and has had this disease for 58
years. In January 1998, when I was diagnosed with Type 1 LADA (Latent Autoimmune
Diabetes in Adults), the doctor said, "And what about your two sons?"
So, of course, we got them checked out. One of our sons
is diabetic and has worn an insulin pump for the past six years.
A few years ago, I wrote this poem:
REFLECTIONS FROM A DIABETIC SOUL
Insulin, lancets, syringes, and meters...
All new supplies for the diagnosis "Diabetes".
Leaving the Dr's office, my thoughts in a fog,
A whole new lifestyle to track in a log.
There is no cure, so play the game fair,
While the medical community works on its share
Of progress in research to find a cure...
16 million Americans would benefit for sure.
150 million diabetics worldwide, every hour another
child.
One American dies every 3 minutes from this beguiled.
Courage to go on, is the paramount key...
Along with the struggle, remains a future "to
be".
Partnership with this dreaded disease
Is one I must accept, to appease
The haunting fear of complications.
Diabetes won't allow for taking vacations.
Doctors, denied insurance, hospitals, and care
Are pushing into my life with an urgent snare.
I'm very angry and sad, yet thankful and glad
That I live in America, where care is good, not
bad.
Choose life again, I pray; emerge back in a whole
Different way.
Connie K, 59
Warsaw, IN
132689