A Ton Of Bricks

On Wednesday I was down at the University of Iowa Fieldhouse at the U of I Wellness Fair.  I was working a booth for JDRF primarily to raise awareness for T1D.  It gave me the opportunity to meet with all sorts of people and explain to them what JDRF is about and what we fund.  Anytime JDRF has the opportunity to promote our mission, it is always a win for us.

Shortly before the noon hour, an older woman approached my booth.  We started with the usually greeting, but then she started to ask questions about JDRF.  Her questions were very specific, which started to make me wonder or become curious about her connection to T1D.  She didn't appear to be a nurse, or at least she wasn't wearing a hospital ID badge like most of the wellness fair goers.  Curiosity took over and so I asked her about her connection to T1D.

She started to tell me that she had a grandson that was a T1D.  The story was short and to the point as she then told me that a few years back they lost her grandson to T1D at the age of 4.  She described him as a very sick young man that just didn't have any fight left in him.  It still seemed very fresh in her mind, although she didn't show any emotion.  She then told me that she appreciates everything that we (JDRF) do to help find a cure for diabetes.  I explained to her that JDRF is focused on finding the cure, but also discovering better ways to treat and funding research to someday prevent T1D.  She wished me a good day and went on to the next booth.

The rapid flow of people at the fair prevented me from really processing what this woman had shared with me.  Her story did stick in my mind but later on that night, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

Micheala was 4 years old when she was diagnosed.

I couldn't stop thinking about the reality or possibility of me being that person sharing that story at the wellness fair to a JDRF staff member.  I can honestly say that I don't worry about my daughter falling victim to diabetes on a daily basis.  I don't because I have faith in the things that we do to take care of her.  However, there is always that possibility that just doesn't ever completely vacate my mind.

One bad string of events that go wrong with Micheala can make her very sick.  The common cold and flu often times has Heather and I on "red alert" with Micheala.  She is 7 years old and little; it doesn't take much to wipe her out.  That's just reality.

I also thought long and hard about purpose.  Parents and grandparents should not have to deal with the pre-mature passing of their T1D loved ones.  I started thinking about the things that I am doing and really questioning if it was "enough".  What else can be done that is not being done right now? 

I don't think of T1D is a death sentence.  I encourage other T1Ds not to think of T1D as a death sentence either.  Death sentences have a pre-determined ending, which in this case would mean that T1D wins and we are the victims.  T1D is more of a temporary situation.  Yes we have T1D now, but the research is going to provide us with a cure someday...I believe that.

I find it difficult to stomach the fact that I simple do not have enough hours in my day to help the thousands of families that live with T1D in the Eastern Iowa area.  That list of families is long and continues to grow....daily.  In the month of October I welcomed 15 new families to Eastern Iowa JDRF, and those are just the families we know about.  Today I welcomed 2 new families.  The families are all the same...they never change...they are T1Ds now and scared as hell.  I tell them that things will get better, but do they believe me?

Wednesday hit me like a ton of bricks.  I pray every night for the strength to carry those bricks on my back and continue to march forward.  Not just for me, Micheala or all the families that are part of Eastern Iowa JDRF, but for that woman and those like her that have loved ones that just couldn't fight any longer.  This cure will be for them.  A cure will not bring their loved ones back, but it will prevent others from being that stranger across the table at a wellness fair sharing a tragic story in which T1D is the victor.