Take 2 - Insulin support group

I remember my first support group session. I should remember. It was only 2 months ago. When people were going around the room saying their name, the number of years they've had diabetes, the name of their pump and any complications they had. By the end of the second introduction, I was already sniffling and dreading my turn. Yesterday Justin and I attended the second insulin support group session taking place since my diagnosis. I felt a lot stronger and willing to ask questions and engage in the discussion, but it was still emotionally charged. During this session, they especially invited parents of children with type-1 diabetes.

One parent showed up. Her daughter is 12 years old and was recently diagnosed in June of this year. I'm not sure what it was - if it was because her daughter was diagnosed in the same month as me, or if her english reminded me of my mother, or the fact that she was chinese, or because she was trying to conceal her obvious pain - but I really empathized with her. She didn't say very much, only that she was here to learn more to support her daughter and that her daughter was so strong, stronger than herself. I think its natural to love your child more than yourself. In turn, I would probably feel 100x worse about my diabetes if it were passed along to my son or daughter. I wanted to tell her that diabetes is not great news, but it's not even close to the end of the world. That 12 is young, but old enough to at least educate herself and communicate how she feels. That even though we don't have a cure, technology getting better every year and is pretty decent. We're still pricking and poking or pumping, but in the grand scheme of things, it's not a terrible price to pay for an otherwise normal and healthy life. There was a pediatric endocrinologist present who said the standard nowadays for the newly diagnosed is to have little to no complications.

As expected, there were a few intense moments. I realize how different people are every time I'm in a room with a group of diabetics (this might only be the 3rd time). The only thing I may have in common with the person next to me is that we have diabetes. It doesn't mean we think the same way about life. It doesn't mean we share similar beliefs.

There was one lady who made the comment that she saw her diabetes as a gift and her life was better for having diabetes because it made her a better person - it made her more socialable, humble, sensitive, etc. Another woman was scoffing and huffing and puffing "oh please" under her breath at these statements. I can understand that while we may appreciate who we are because of trials and adversity, it's another thing to wish them upon yourself. I would give diabetes back in a heartbeat. I would rather not have lost my mother to brain cancer. Although I am who I am today because of those events and I don't wish to be someone else, I would still strictly prefer not to have those events in my life. To be happy with your life with diabetes is one thing. To be happy to have diabetes sounds extreme.