We were walking on the trail when the kids found this amazing tree to climb on and explore. It naturally provided its own ‘seats’ for them to snuggle into and a big smooth trunk to lay upon. It was so strong and protective, gently inviting them into a safe space.
The water was like glass, the sun was setting, the air was crisp. I feel myself sigh as I recall the moment. It was that good.
When I first noticed Logan sitting there it felt a little surreal, a bit dreamy, as if he was sitting high above the clouds looking down, pondering life, being still. It was a moment untouched by diabetes. I wanted to stay there forever.
After a long week of holiday fun, which was filled with navigating the highs and lows of his blood sugars, this moment felt like landing on a soft pillow. I wanted to stay there forever.
In our every day life, with our regular routine of school, work, Scouts and other things, T1D is so embedded into our day that it just fits like a glove, usually. It’s not until we have a special occasion or visitors that T1D taps me on my shoulder, as if to remind me that it’s there, and what it is that we do to keep Logan healthy…and alive. (This is in no way a request for you not to visit us. The joy we get from sharing time with family and friends is a blessing in itself, though for us it is also a time that gives us pause as Logan’s needs are observed not only by us, but by family and friends).
During these times, I quickly realize how many times I say “Logan, check your blood sugar“, “What’s your blood sugar Logan?”, “Logan needs his tummy shot“, “Did you dose Logan?” and truly how restricting it feels, and sometimes can be. I don’t want to stay here forever.
T1D is manageable, there are many great advancements in the field, research efforts continue to move towards better ways to support people in their daily lives, but… sometimes it just plain ole’ sucks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for so many things, though after a week of extreme highs, extra pokes, sleepless nights and trying to keep Logan’s blood sugar in range, it not only fuels my efforts to raise awareness but to also continue raising funds for research.
Yes, some days it feels like a drop in the ocean. For those days I have this quote taped to the inside of my closet, I see it every morning, a reminder that every drop matters.
We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop. – Mother Teresa
I don’t have time to doubt my efforts as I try to reach people, to raise awareness or to convince them to support our cause. I might be naive in thinking that one person can make a difference. The thing is, I truly believe that one person can make a difference, and that person is you.
I share our lives with you to raise awareness, to help others understand the daily life of someone that has Type 1 Diabetes. I also share our lives to show Logan and Zoe that people are powerful, people are kind, people truly care and that we all have the ability to make a difference in someone’s life.
We are not unique, we stand with the many others that advocate for a cure, whether it be for Type 1 Diabetes, Cancer, Parkinson’s, Epilepsy, Cerebral Palsy, Pediatric Cancer or Alzheimer’s (the list for a cure is long, no cause is to be omitted, we stand united with all that are in search for a cure). We appreciate you finding those few minutes in your day to think about T1D.
So thank you for sticking with me as I write to share, to educate and with your help, to raise awareness. I will run, ride and walk until there is a cure. Like any parent advocating for their child, I will not stop until I can give Logan that moment again, the moment that lasts a lifetime, where his life is untouched by T1D. It is then that we will celebrate, give thanks… and we will stay there forever.