I recently learned a co-worker of mine was Type 2 and insulin dependent. I was so excited about our new common bond that I couldn't wait to tell him I had Type 1! What caught me off guard was that he instantly said to me, "Don't tell anyone, ok?" Later he quietly asked me, "Do people make fun of you?" The idea both caught me off guard and broke my heart for him.

Would someone actually make fun of another person because of an illness? Especially at this age? (I'm guessing he is mid to late 20s.)

I can remember only one time being made fun of because of my disease. It was back in junior high school. We were sitting in the lunchroom. I remember like it was yesterday who said it, but I don't remember what he said. What I also remember is later finding out that some of my (boy) friends followed him into the bathroom and made sure he never teased me again.

While I don't get teased, I constantly, constantly am told horror stories of death and amputation from diabetes. I never know what to say to these people... and I crumble inside every time someone offers a story of their loved one dying from the disease. I'd like to shout, "WOULD YOU TELL A CANCER PATIENT ABOUT THE PEOPLE YOU KNOW WHO DIED OF CANCER?!" Of course you wouldn't! What is wrong with people?! I don't yell at them or tell them how sad their stories make me feel, instead I smile, fight back my tears and walk away speechless, in disbelief at the audacity.

When I was young, I came across these Bible verses. I have held onto them as a means to view my life with diabetes:

Philippians 1:19-20
For I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always, Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death.

I was never the girl who planned her wedding; who cared about flowers, cake or even who the groom would be. I was never the girl who imagined where she would live when she grew up or what she would do for a job. I was never the girl who planned how many children she would have and what their names would be. You see, I never thought I had the option. I never thought I would live long enough to see those days.

The few, and I mean very few, people I have admitted that to act shocked to hear…but why??? How am I supposed to feel or what am I supposed to think when diagnosed with a disease at the age of 10 and immediately (yes, immediately) told of the life ahead filled with heart disease, blindness, kidney failure, amputation... or the many people you encounter who feel it's their obligation to let you know how their neighbor's sister's uncle died a horrific death from the disease. Those may be just stories to some, but it's reality to me, so why would I plan for my future? What future!?

Almost 23 years have passed since I was the little girl laying on her parents' bathroom floor-- all 50-pounds of me too weak and dehydrated to walk back to bed, wondering what was wrong with my body. Though the exterior has changed, the fears of that 10 year old little person still lie within me.

If you asked me today if living with Type 1 Diabetes bothers me, I would immediately say, “No!” In fact, given the choice to live with the disease or not, I honestly believe I would just keep it. I know no other way to live. And truly, I mean that. Having said all of that, I sit here in my living room writing this with tears soaring down my cheeks. I can’t keep them back. It's not the shots that bother me. It's not the exercise or the clean eating. It's the fear of losing my sight or one of my limbs that terrifies me. 

There is so much I want to tell you. Whoever you are. Perhaps you’re a parent or sibling of a Type 1 Diabetic. Married to or dating one. A person in the medical field (and I really hope there is someone out there in the medical field reading this because I definitely have something to say to you!) or maybe you’re someone like me… just taking it day by day, living with Type 1 Diabetes or some other illness...

I want you to know: You're going to be OK. We All Are.

A brief introduction....

Last week, I sat through a 20-minute conversation. The man, David, was telling me about his brother who died from Type 1 Diabetes. As David went through each ailment developed and subsequent surgery, the sinking feeling in my stomach fell deeper and deeper. First it was eye surgery (retinopathy), then leg amputation, next came heart surgery. Eventually the man had a kidney and pancreas transplant. Finally, David’s brother died just before his 40^th birthday. He was about to have a heart transplant.

As a 33-year old woman with Type 1 Diabetes, this conversation put my greatest fears into words. Listening to David talk about his brother, I crumbled inside. I spent more time trying to make sure my face showed nothing I was truly feeling than I did actually listening to him.

It has been one week since the conversation, and this is the very first day I have been able to breathe a word of it.

I write to you today because I live and breathe Juvenile Diabetes. Diagnosed at age 10, it has been a part of my every day for nearly 23 years. My anniversary is Valentine’s Day.

Instead of sitting in the shadows waiting for diabetes to kill me, I want to kill it. While I have passively considered writing about or working in a field related to Juvenile Diabetes, the conversation last week with David sent me into overdrive. I want to get involved. I need to get involved. There are too many people out there misinformed and too many diabetics out there feeling discouraged and to be blunt, waiting to die. This is unacceptable. A very dear friend of mine once told me, "I will let diabetes kill me before I change my lifestyle for it." The sad reality is, that probably will happen to him.

I am starting this blog today as an outlet for you, for me, for your family, for your friends and for mine. Living with a disease, an illness, is not easy. It affects every single decision I make in a day. Sometimes I grow frustrated because I feel like no one understands, but then I think, why would they? I never talk about it!

So here goes....