Let’s end our week on a high note and blog about our
“Diabetes Hero”. It can be anyone you’d like to recognize or admire,
someone you know personally or not, someone with diabetes or maybe a Type 3. It
might be a fabulous endo or CDE. It could be a d-celebrity or
role-model. It could be another DOC member. It’s up to you – who is
your Diabetes Hero??
If you read my blog regularly, you know this one is a no-brainer. My hero is my son, Dylan. He is the ultimate trooper, the ultimate tough guy, the ultimate warrior. Like the thousands of other children with type 1 diabetes, he has the "invisible disease"; the "everything looks okay on the outside, but inside it's a roller coaster" disease. Type 1 kids are tough. Period. And my son is no exception. Between the constant finger pokes, infusion set changes, syringe injections, carb counts, adjustments, and doctors visits, type 1 kids endure a lot. And they're forced to be grown-ups way earlier than they should be. Why? Because they have to. Do they complain? No, they deal with it.
A couple of years after Dylan was diagnosed, I remember asking myself if maybe he was meant to fill this role. And in no way do I mean that he was meant to live a life of finger pokes, injections and carb counting; god forbid, no one should ever have to endure what a type 1 diabetic endures every day. But there is something about the spirit of a type 1 child that shows everyone he/she can handle it. It's a strength, independence, and will that is almost incomparable with other kids. It's almost indescribable.
Do I know a hero? Yeah. I see one every day. And I'm proud to call him my son.
If you read my blog regularly, you know this one is a no-brainer. My hero is my son, Dylan. He is the ultimate trooper, the ultimate tough guy, the ultimate warrior. Like the thousands of other children with type 1 diabetes, he has the "invisible disease"; the "everything looks okay on the outside, but inside it's a roller coaster" disease. Type 1 kids are tough. Period. And my son is no exception. Between the constant finger pokes, infusion set changes, syringe injections, carb counts, adjustments, and doctors visits, type 1 kids endure a lot. And they're forced to be grown-ups way earlier than they should be. Why? Because they have to. Do they complain? No, they deal with it.
A couple of years after Dylan was diagnosed, I remember asking myself if maybe he was meant to fill this role. And in no way do I mean that he was meant to live a life of finger pokes, injections and carb counting; god forbid, no one should ever have to endure what a type 1 diabetic endures every day. But there is something about the spirit of a type 1 child that shows everyone he/she can handle it. It's a strength, independence, and will that is almost incomparable with other kids. It's almost indescribable.
Do I know a hero? Yeah. I see one every day. And I'm proud to call him my son.
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