Life in the Eye of a Hurricane -- Life with Type 1 Diabetes

I now live in the eye of a hurricane. It’s pretty calm here--as long as I stay within the boundaries of the eye and follow the rules. If I don’t--if I venture to the edges of the eye, I get caught up in the destructive churning of the winds. Those winds are devastating--deathly so. They would shake me senseless. I have felt them. They cannot be beaten or stopped. They can only be avoided. So I stay safe--I stay in the eye. But despite the calm, I don’t relax. I can never relax. I must always be on guard, always following the rules. Sometimes the winds will quiet a little. Their swirl parts briefly--and I can see through them. There’s blue sky there, lots of it and freedom too. There I would not have to think so much, every minute, always careful. I know what it’s like there. Sweet peace. I know because I came from there--but I can never go there again. Here I must stay. The hurricane has trapped me. Once caught up in its vortex, there is no way out. So I just keep going, as best I can. I work to stay focused, stay careful--safe for now in the eye.

The hurricane I am referring to is type 1 diabetes. No, I don’t have it. My child does. If only it were me. I would take her place in a second. But I can’t. If you are a parent, I know you understand.

Diabetes is a condition in which blood glucose (sugar) levels are high because the body cannot process food correctly due to problems with insulin. Insulin is a hormone made in the pancreas; it converts food into the energy that is essential for survival. Someone with diabetes either does not make or cannot properly use the insulin created. Diabetes is a disease often in the news these days. Many people are overweight and inactive. Those conditions can lead to type 2 diabetes. No one seems to talk much about type 1 diabetes. Perhaps that is because type 1 diabetes only affects 5% of all those diagnosed with diabetes. Type 1 diabetes has nothing to do with being overweight or inactive. It is not preventable and has nothing to do with lifestyle.

Type 1 diabetes, also known as juvenile and insulin-dependent diabetes, is usually diagnosed in children or young adults. It is an autoimmune disease. An autoimmune disease is one in which the body makes a gigantic mistake. Normally our immune system is our friend--a very good friend. It protects us from illness, battling germs we encounter every day. But not in the case of type 1 diabetes. Our pancreas contains cells called beta cells. These cells are responsible for making the insulin so vital for life. For some puzzling reason our usually devoted immune system turns on and destroys these beta cells. Like deaths on a battlefield from so called “friendly fire”-- the immune system is confused. Instead of targeting enemy germs, it targets the insulin producing beta cells. This process is neither predictable or preventable. When the beta cells are gone, there is no reviving them. The supply of life-supporting insulin has been cut off. Without it, the blood glucose level climbs higher and higher. Insulin is needed, but there is none. If glucose levels continue to rise unchecked, diabetic ketoacidosis or diabetic coma is the result. The body is unable to process carbohydrates for energy, so it burns fat and body tissue. This process release harmful substances called ketones into the body.

Insulin is the key to processing food. For the person with diabetes, the insulin necessary for life is found in a small glass vial. I thank God that insulin is available for my child. Before 1922 when the first insulin injection was given, there was little hope for those with diabetes. Treatment has improved dramatically since then: more refined insulin, blood sugar monitors, insulin pumps and more have made the lives of those living with this disease better. But a cure is still out of reach. Insulin treatment is amazing and wonderful--not because it is a cure. It is not. But because life without insulin treatment is unthinkable for me. Again, I thank God for it.

Research is ongoing. Perhaps there will be a cure one day. But until then, we go on: checking blood glucose levels 7 + times a day, insulin injections before every meal and snack and striving ever onward to hit those “perfect” numbers. Perfect--not because they are better--but because they are normal.

I once had a very vivid dream about a cure. I often think of it. Recalling it now makes me both ecstatic and heartbroken at once. In my dream, I take my daughter to the hospital for a series of treatments. After the third and final treatment, the nurse brings in a huge tray laden with pasta and cake and bread. This is to be the test of whether the treatment has worked. My daughter gobbles it all down with a grin. Later the nurse returns and checks her blood sugar. It’s normal. In my dream, I am so happy. I remember that feeling as if it had been real. I am overcome with joy--as if I can see the blue sky beyond the confining winds of the storm--and freedom. But then I wake. For the briefest moment, that echo of bliss lingers. But then the curtain of reality falls around me. I know I am still in the eye of the hurricane.