Skip to main content

Anxiety: I haz it [sometimes]

I am nervous to admit this to my reader population, especially since I work with some of you, I am related to some of you, and I am engaged to one of you. Since moving to Huntsville I have experienced some wicked anxiety. And I'm sure ya'll are thinking, "Sure, she moved away from home...like FAR away from home". But it's really so much more than that. My life has completely changed. I am hardly the April of 2 years ago. Hopefully I am a better version, but maybe not completely.

And this whole anxiety issue has crept up and dispersed throughout most of my daily activities. Let me be the first to admit...it is absolutely horrible. I am always nervous about what I say and what I do and how people will judge me. My mind's default phrase has been "what if?" and now I have even bigger what ifs...like...

What if I'm a terrible wife?
What if I'm a terrible mom?
What if I can't even be a mom?
And of course, the THOUGHT: what if my child gets Diabetes?

Oh boy, these are some hard questions to answer for a recently engaged, 20-something woman. These questions go beyond my deepest passion, beyond the astronaut quest, beyond my career goals. These questions really are the foundations of my life.

Of course, these questions and thoughts come in cycles...and recently, while in Colorado for work, I had a complete question crop-up. I decided to text Chris [I would have called, but he was celebrating his last final at Planet of the Apes....awkward, I know].

And a slight disclaimer...Chris will probably be really embarrassed that I published his sweet talks, but I think they really show how much he builds me up when I am super down about almighty D.

Me: Do you ever wish you were engaged to a normal girl...I mean like one without Diabetes?
Chris: No. You are all I ever dreamed of and so much more...
Me: I'm just so nervous...what if we can't have kids...or what if we can, but they get Diabetes?
Chris: Haha...don't worry! We can adopt. And Diabetes isn't genetic.
Me: I know, but I don't want anyone else to have it.
Chris: Haha. You're a spotlight in the D world. You are one of the few Diabetics that didn't take no for an answer. I think we would be lucky if our kid has Diabetes. You're the best support team ever!!

And just like that, my quick spurt of anxiety was gone, completely dissipated. The truth is, I am one lucky girl; a girl who needs help and gets it, from the best person in the world.

Comments

  1. This is one beautiful story that brought that tight feeling to the back of my throat. The feeling that acts as a suction cup for ... tears

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

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

Popular posts from this blog

The road to curing Type 1 Diabetes

From the moment of diagnosis, the road is rough, the learning curve is steep and the stakes are literally life or death. The map is less-than-helpful - paths originating from virtually every corner, coalescing at a center point (aka "diagnosis") and bursting back outwards - some paths cross and wrap around each other but others are isolated. And even with all of these roads, most of the territory is uncharted - how did we all get here and how will we all exit? Where are the obstacles we haven't found yet? Which passage holds the key to unlocking the solution?

On any given day I feel pretty isolated with this disease - I'm the only T1D in my group at work, the only one in mission control, the only one in my family. I go through the logistics of calling insurance companies, ordering supplies, changing sites and troubleshooting malfunctions mostly on my own. Even those pesky carbs really only get counted in my brain, no group think for a meal bolus here. But there is b…

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…
01 09 10