Diabetes A Parents Point of View

I would like to take this opportunity to say thanks to both my Mum and Dad. Although not a close journey in terms of Diabetes, we are still a very close family. Today is my 12 year anniversary of Type 1 Diabetes.. Here is a parents perspective on those very events 12 long years ago!

It’s alarming when you see your 20 year old child, the reason for your being, the joy of your life, withering away in front of your eyes.

You know that as a young adult you have to give them their own space and sense of independence; you also know you still have to be there for them, watching out for life’s nastiest creeping up on them.

You know there is something wrong, but you don’t know what; they are not the same, they physically look different, and no matter how hard you try and how much you don’t believe it; you are still worried beyond belief that he or she is on drugs.

When Michael was first diagnosed with diabetes it was almost a relief; I say almost, because diabetes is not that great a condition to be diagnosed with, but compared to the spiral into an addict’s way of life, well frankly it was a relief. It was also a relief to know that it was not something more critical like cancer.

Michael was a good looking, happy, sports mad, youngster.  Played football, cricket, golf, and loved to Ski, he also enjoyed music and clubbing and had always seemed like a sensible kid.  He was!

But his weight loss (and he didn’t carry much in the first place) was alarming and his energy levels were so, so low; this was not the son I knew, not the boy I had played cricket with, not the son who could ski the pants off of me.  Oh how I hoped and prayed he was not doing drugs and how I hoped and prayed that he was not “really ill”.

I remember well the middle of the night pee some 12 years ago that woke me and his mum, and when I went to see if he was alright he told me that he really felt very unwell and was peeing for England and had an unquenchable thirst.

It hit me then and I just “knew” what it was and I told him not to worry and to go to the doctor first thing in the morning.

I had to leave early to sit an exam, nothing like as critical as the examination that Michael would undergo; and we both failed, not that I blame him.

Would we have preferred that he only “had a virus”? Without doubt, but nonetheless, his diagnosis was a relief, even if only partially.

His mum and I were so, so, upset that he would have to carry this burden for the rest of his life.  We were also out of the control loop; there was nothing except support and love and encouragement that we could actually DO to help him. Until it happens to you, you have no idea how impotent, and weak, and useless it makes you feel, being unable to protect your offspring.

Rightly or wrongly, I pretended to take the view that it was his problem and that it was only diabetes, I so wanted to play it down. Not in denial but wanted to be matter of fact about it. My tears were kept for me and his mum.

I know it maybe sounds brutal; but ultimately it was Michael who had to control his sugars, his diet and his insulin.  We could prepare all of the food, offer all of the reminders, go to all of the web pages, and buy all of the books, but it was Michael who had to read them, eat it, take his readings and inject.

In Bristol we also had a magnificent ambassador in Gary Mabbut who was leading a brilliantly successful life with diabetes.

I ached and his mum ached, and if either of us could have swapped places we would have done so in a heartbeat, but we couldn’t.  We could not protect Michael from this, we could not put barriers around him to stop it getting in; it was already there.

I am not sure if we ever sat and really spoke in depth about it (sometimes I can’t remember what I have had for breakfast) I am sure that we did, but maybe not as deeply as perhaps we might have.  Again, didn’t want to make a big deal of it.

Diabetes, does not just affect those who get it; it affects their family and those who care about them too; the difference is that eventually we recover.

A Diabetes in Spain (Special) from Allan Young; Cheers Dad