At the first meeting, Sherry was there. She is such a sweet soul and a kind person. Though I rarely make the Adult T1 support group anymore, anytime I'm in Nashville Sherry and I try to get together. I can promise you that you will be blessed to ever meet someone with a heart as big as hers.
The last time we met for lunch (after my disastrous endo appointment) Sherry discussed that she'd like to blog, but didn't feel like she had the time. I offered then to let her guest post on my blog. And that, along with some other outside influences, eventually led to the "Your Voice" project.
Okay, so I’m usually cool with my diabetes. I mean, after all, at least it waited to sock me until I was 43…until after college, babies, well, you get the idea. I’m even glad for it on occasion. Take last week for example. I have a really close friend whose 13 year old son was diagnosed with Type 1. When I got that frantic, tear-filled call from her while in the PICU, I was really glad to have some help to offer. So I’m usually okay with this disease. But sometimes…..
This morning, however, I was ready to squeeze the living daylights out of diabetes. I mean, really! I was just giving my baby a bath when the water looked a little wavier than it should have been. When I tested in at 56, I got stinking MAD! WHY can’t I even give my BABY a bath without the big D demanding its share of the action? Give me a BREAK!!! Pu-lease!!
Okay, so maybe I’m not being fair. My “baby” is 11 years old and, at 5 feet tall and weighing 120 pounds, he is unable to move a muscle. He’s a special child, severely affected by cerebral palsy. When he’s naked, wet and in the tub, he’s nearly as big as me. I guess giving him a bath would challenge anyone. Also, I know better than to strip all the beds, do four loads of laundry, mop two rooms of floors and drive 1 ½ hours taking my dog to the vet AND give my son a bath, all on 15 grams of breakfast carb. But, heck, it was only 11 a.m.!!
I just wanted to get the little feller all clean and sassy before we have to drive the hour and a half back to get the dog, drop off 4 bags at Goodwill, run to the post office, finish the floors, do 5 more loads of laundry, make supper, get ready to square dance for two hours tonight and then hurry home to prepare for a 6 hour First Aid and CPR training tomorrow. Oh, and get my son ready for bed….a hour long process that would pale a ghost.
So why can’t I go at lightning speed? After all, my life depends on an insulin pump. I run on a AAA battery!
I just don’t want to be different. I get so annoyed when I’m interrupted from life by this monster. I give it plenty of time and thought. Why doesn’t it just let me alone??? How can I lose weight, or ever get a decent meal if I have to parcel out food to fix lows like I was a squirrel hiding nuts before the first frost? I don’t want to fix grilled cheese sandwiches at 11 p.m. because I was too annoyed to eat supper last night and went to bed low….and got lower…..and my CGM wouldn’t shut up. There are times I just want to forget about diabetes….you know….take a break from it. But I can’t. It’s too selfish.
Oh, well. Elijah is clean. I’m over my low. No floors are getting done since I’m writing this. But whatever. Diabetes. It’s a Motherload.
Sheery Neergaard lives in the Nashville area. She was (mis)diagnosed with T2 diabetes in 2005, and rediagnosed with T1 (adult onset) diabetes in 2006. Married to her best friend Daryl for 27 years, she is mother to college student Corey and special needs son Elijah. Daryl and Sherry are houseparents at Tennessee Baptist Children's Home.
In her free time (!), Sherry loves squaredancing, gardening, sewing, playing handbells, writing, and most any kinds of craft. She is a former elementary school teacher and hopes to return to school to become a registered nurse...in her words "just for fun."