Friday, January 4, 2013

I Need My D-Rents

First of all I want to say that I think D-Moms rock. Seriously. I'm so glad that the DOC is full of rockin' D-Moms and D-Dads too.

I think back to my childhood, and how well my Grandparents took care of my diabetes. They did all the amazing, selfless, difficult things that D-parent's do; the midnight finger-sticks, the algebraic-like insulin:food calculations, chasing a toddler with a syringe, force feeding a low, arguing with a high. Ya'll know the drill, not to mention this was the era of the Diabetic Exchange Diet and MDI. To some extent, I think my Grandparents had it more difficult than you current D-Moms, you see they aren't my parents. Whenever my mom decided that she wanted me around, they had no control of how she took care of me and my diabetes. They'd pack up the D-supplies along with my clothes and toys and pray that I'd come back alive.

Fortunately, I always did come back alive and usually in one piece and now I am grown and my grandparents are gone.  There is no D-mom for me to run to when diabetes get to be a little too much for me to handle. This isn't to say that Mr. Harer isn't supportive, because he is. But, there is nothing like running into your parents arms and spilling your problems into their lap. A husband doesn't love the way a parent does (and that is a good thing!)

Right now D is a little too much for me, and I wish Grandma and Grandpa were here to help carry the load. I just can't help being a little jealous of the kids with awesome D-Moms (and Dads.)

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