
I posted this old photo to remind myself of how young Joseph was when he had onset of diabetes. This picture was taken in August 2003, six months after Joseph's onset.
I was reminded of his diabetes because on Saturday night, Joseph's blood glucose dropped dangerously low (33) right at bedtime. He became weak and wobbly. We gave him some Gatorade to drink in an attempt to raise his blood sugar quickly. Joseph said he felt cold, so I sat him on my lap and covered him with a blanket to warm him.
While I was holding Joseph, he turned to me and quietly said, "Daddy, I don't want to have diabetes." Tears immediately formed in my eyes as I blathered some response that provided Joseph a little comfort, but left me feeling empty.
The thing is, I don't want Joseph to have diabetes either. I wish that we didn't have to worry every night whether he is going to have a major problem that could result in hypoglycemic coma or worse. I wish we didn't have to be concerned about him being ostracized or belittled at school due to his differences of constantly checking his blood and wearing an insulin pump. I wish that I didn't have to face what promises to be tumultuous teenage years, particularly with Joseph learning to responsibly manage his diabetes during a time when the last thing that he will want is being seen doing something strange and difficult for other teenagers to understand.
I wish that I could do something to make it go away and be cured -- now. Our family continually prays for a cure, but lately, we have not done much to support the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF). Our plate has been so full that I have a hard time adding a helping of JDRF. But if I don't get involved, how can I expect others to care?