To my diabetic daughter,
Its been just over three weeks since diagnosis, three short weeks to consume a wealth of information and to start adapting to a new way of life.
You have placed a needle in your body over ninety times, that number sounds so loud when written down and yet I know by Christmas you will have done the same task over two hundred times and that number will keep growing. Every time your skin is broken I swear I feel the pinch, and every time I see your small earnest face carefully pricking your finger, counting your carbs, and injecting your life saving insulin, tears rush to my eyes and a sob catches in my throat. I always turn away quickly so you don’t get a whisper of the sadness within.
You told someone last week that diabetes chose you because of your love for sugary sweets and only this week I realised that you thought if your blood sugar ever hit zero you would drop dead on the ground. No six-year-old should carry this blame or think these thoughts, but you do because I forgot to tell you different.
Diabetes will not hurt you, together we can make sure of that.
We have talked, talked for hours about what this condition means for you and I already see glimpses of the woman you will become. I know you will do more, see more, achieve more all in spite of being diabetic. This will not define you, it will drive you.
In three short weeks you have shown me what courage looks like.
You are amazing,