Skip to main content

Politics: a four-letter word.

If there is one thing I hate in this world it is politics. But, today being Election Day, I thought it fitting to share my Diabetes-meets-political frustrations with all of you. So, please don't hate me.

Honestly, I hate drawing lines in the sand (read: branding yourself a "Republican" or a "Democrat"). It just doesn't make any sense, I have seen some terrible leadership on both sides; but I have also seen some (in my opinion) smart decisions initiated by both sides. I like to research my candidates and compare them against both my political and moral views. Heck, sometimes people have ideas that I don't agree with at first, but they make sense in the long run; and usually, I eventually see that they are a lot smarter than me, or had more information from which to make a more educated decision.

So, what am I getting at here? Basically, it's a political battle between finding a cure for Diabetes and not. In general, I would say I lean more towards traditional "Republican" views, but it's those Democrats who support stem cell research: and I do too. I'm a mishmash of views when it comes to the Diabetes political scene, and I'm proud of it. I have done a lot of research, about what exactly a stem cell is, where it comes from, what it could become [enter view against abortion]. Personally, if you are against stem cell research then you should also be against in vitro fertilization, since any unused eggs are simply "thrown away"; however in my experience most people against stem cell research are also FOR in vitro [THEY WANT BABIES ANY WAY THEY CAN GET 'EM]. But I digress....

If you are unsure your views about stem cell research, keep reading for an example which illustrates MY views. [It's sorta long, but totally worth it!]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let's pretend you and your husband (or wife) were just blessed with a beautiful new baby. You worked extra hard during the pregnancy to ensure minimal risk of complications; you decorated a nursery and prepared newborn clothes and soft, fuzzy blankets. When your child was born, you bent over backwards, sacrificing all of your time to meet her needs. You breastfed for 6 months to make sure she was getting all the delicious nutrients she needed, and you loved that time with her: bonding and cuddling. You loved staring at her precious smile, her peaceful nap time glow. You would do ANYTHING for her. You never wanted to leave her alone because you didn't want to miss a second of her life, the life you had helped create, the life you were prepared to nurture for the rest of yours. She was perfect.

She started growing fast, and years passed as days, everything was moving so quickly. She outgrew clothes, learned to walk and started talking. You were floored. Every time you looked at her, you were so proud to be her parents, to have her as a blessing in your life.

Days slipped by and it was her first day of kindergarten. You told her to stand tall and proud in the front yard as you took her picture. Her curly hair and toothy grin were beautiful; you framed the picture and took it to work to show off. Yup, she was yours, silly stance and all. Years slipped by...1st grade, 2nd grade...boy, did she make you proud. She won awards, wrote elementary stories, played the piano. You couldn't imagine life without her.

Then one day everything changed. Her once eager grin was tired, thirsty and depressed. Her little bright eyes were dim, but you could tell she was trying to push through. She didn't want to feel this way, she wanted to feel excited, happy, energized! It was Christmastime. You finally gave in, and took her to the doctor. You hated seeing her this way. Your precious little girl was suffering. And then it hit you like a ton of bricks, "She has Type 1 Diabetes."

You can't think. You are frozen. You didn't do anything wrong, how could this happen? You did everything right, you nurtured, took care of, encouraged her. She was your pride and joy. She was perfect. You floated through the diagnosis numb. It pained you more than her to give her shots, to test her blood sugar 3 times a day, to tell her that it will never go away. And even though your actions could not have prevented it, you felt a deep sense of guilt. What did we do wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You see, when I think about myself I don't feel that I "deserve a cure". But when I think of her, an innocent girl, a parents' perfect child, all I can think is "we NEED a cure." And if stem cell research leads us to a cure, then that is what I will support. I cannot sit here and pretend it's ok for a child to endure the physical and emotional pain that IS Diabetes. I can't pretend it's ok for a parent to tell their child, "No honey, Diabetes doesn't go away."

We need a cure, don't support it for me, support it for HER.

Comments

  1. I feel the same way. I don't want the cure for myself. I want it for those little ones out there who are being diagnosed with this life changing disease at a way too early age.

    ReplyDelete
  2. From a parents point of view there is a lot of guilt... what if I???????

    Even though we don't have the big D we still live with it every day through our child.

    Love ya, Mom

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Who has two thumbs and loves comments? Nerdy April!!! Type one out and hit publish!

Popular posts from this blog

Critical Space Item: Handle With Extreme Care

Someday I want to open a box. The box will be neatly wrapped up with an excessive amount of packaging. Its contents will have been years in the making, and even though it won't weigh much, this small box will represent a huge step forward.


As most flight hardware begins, the space-rated closed-loop insulin delivery and monitoring device inside the box will be sterile and stark. But as the batteries whir to life and insulin is placed within, it will become an extra appendage, an external pancreas, for this Type 1 astro-hopeful. Bluetooth connections will be made and doctors, hungry for telemetry from my bionic body, will be at the ready. We will rely on each other - he on I for his very existence, and I on him for my continued existence. Together we will make up one whole, completely functioning, Type 1 Diabetic astronaut.

Admittedly, this dream feels further and further from reality. I have lived with this disease just under 20 years now, and the cure has always been "just 5 …

On 20 years with Type 1 Diabetes

I think it's finally time to hit 'publish' on this post, considering it's been sitting here for, oh you know, like 2 weeks now ;-) Sometimes I "April" about things too much (this is Chris's term), and with my dad here for Christmas I realized that it's definitely a trait passed down, haha, love you dad!


To be honest, I never thought the day would come when I would say, "I've had Type 1 Diabetes for 20 years."

20 years ago a cure was 'just on the horizon' and as an 11 year old kid I took that phrase to heart - I had to. My continued existence was based solely on whatever the endocrinologist said - pancreas, insulin, autoimmune, blood sugar, islet cells, shots. I didn't know what I didn't know at that point. I had never heard of an insulin pump or glucose meter. Ketones and hyperglycemia were just big, meaningless words. Carb ratios and counting might as well have been formulas for travelling at light speed. I wasn't ov…

MCM - Certified Mom

This morning I woke up early, the baby monitor was chirping just a few minutes before my alarm was set to go off. Chris graciously rolled out of bed and set out to re-insert Otto's paci. Meanwhile, I pressed my clothes, curled my hair and brewed some coffee - my standard pre-console routine. After a quick breakfast Zara peeped her head over the railing and I heard a gentle "mama" echo down the stairs. It was still dark, but this little one was ready for her daily breakfast of oatmeal and milk in preparation for a fun day at swim lessons and school. As she sat, eating her "oatsss" (as she calls them), I whirled around the kitchen prepping bottles, gathering outfits for school, and ensuring all the swim lesson supplies were set out. It's hard leaving Chris to take care of both kids in the morning (#momguilt) so I try my best to complete as many get-ahead tasks as possible, in hopes his morning goes smoothly. 
This morning schedule description may seem mundan…
01 09 10