Anyway, in one of this woman's archive posts I found another blog. This is a blog written by a man with T1D. He is in his late forties, I believe now, but has had T1D for years. One one post he and his son had a You Tube video of themselves singing a song they had written together for World Diabetes Day. It was about all those people who care for those with Diabetes. He refers to them as Type 3. His song struck a cord in me. It says so many of the things that I have been thinking and feeling for the past two months or so.
We will sneak into her room, turn on the light, she doesn't stir...she is sprawled out on her bed, with her Hello Kitty or puppy in one arm, and the other arm hanging off the bed as if she knew we were coming. Palm up and fingers relaxed as if they were already in the position for the check. Almost immediately after the test, she would curl her arm in and hug her special friend. She barely stirred. Not even one minute of sleep interrupted.
Telling her the next morning that we tested her, she doesn't even remember or even believe us that we did our midnight test!
I feel like the more the burden I can bear, the less she has to. There is time for that. In a few years she may be able to count carbs and give herself insulin. In just more than a decade she will be living on her own, away at college.
But for now it is my cross to bear.If I can do midnight finger checks or count all the carbs she will consume in a day, without her having to worry or even think about it, I will. And she doesn't need to know. Not yet.
Type 3. That's my Type.
There was a quote from an article describing how a duck swims: "everything looks smooth above the water, but below the surface the duck's legs are paddling like crazy."
That's exactly how it is being a parent of a child with Diabetes. That's my Type.
It is amazing what we parents do so that the burden falls on us and not our children. It is amazing the knowledge we gain to literally keep our children alive.
We somehow make it look effortless to outsiders. Other parents see our kids and just see another kid. They don't see all the behind the scenes that go on.
We are sleep deprived, we are stressed, and we are constantly thinking about Diabetes.
We do it. We have to. We are Type 3. That's my Type. Now back to the song. There are lyrics here on George's blog, along with his backstory. But the lyrics that hit me the most are:
Even though I know I'm prepared
There's a part of me that is so scared
Watch the video. But grab a tissue. That's my Type.