The day Ryan was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes just two weeks after he turned 6, and at the beginning of his kindergarten year is burned into my mind. I still remember the room we were in, the blood sugar results, and the look on the doctor's face when he turned to give me the news. I sat there, trying to process what the doctor was telling me, and I knew that he--we--would have a difficult road ahead, although I don't think I could fully comprehend what that would mean.
In the beginning, my thoughts were of the immediate difficulty and challenges. The day after his diagnosis we went to the Diabetes Center and I received training for about an hour or so. Then we went home, and I was on my own. The first time I gave Ryan a shot it took an hour for me to be able to calm him down enough for me to do it. This process had to be repeated 5-6 times a day, and my heart broke every single time. Taking his blood sugar was also hard for him--up to 8 times a day his little fingers had to be poked so we could monitor how he was doing, and make any necessary changes. In the very beginning, he insisted that a band-aid be placed on his finger every time, and soon his hands were covered with band-aids. A sweet family that we went to church with brought Ryan a gift---20 boxes of band-aids, and it was the best gift ever. Counting grams of carbohydrates for every bite he consumed presented another learning curve--today I can tell you the carb count for pretty much any food there is!
We soon moved on to other challenges---not being able to go to birthday parties where I wouldn't be there to count carbs for him, or give him a shot immediately afterward. Going to play with friends on his own became a much more complicated process, and there was only a handful of places I could send him. The challenges were presented to us as well. Our date nights were at home for a long time, since we couldn't leave him with a babysitter. I was going to school that was located 45 minutes away, and I could no longer be away from him that long, so I had to stop. I worried about him, and about his immediate health, but I really had no idea of what life would be like in the future.
Fast forward seven years, and at 13, Ryan is a full-fledged teenager, and in many ways life is easier now. Those difficult beginning years are well behind us, and he is a pro at counting carbs, monitoring his blood sugar, and many of the other aspects of diabetes. He wears an insulin pump, which has greatly enabled his independence.
I think that for a long time I didn't really realize what having diabetes actually meant. Yes, I could quote right from a medical textbook what the diagnosis was, but that's not really what I'm talking about. It's what's not written there that's so hard.
A 13 year old boy, whose only big concerns in life should be school, friends, Scouts, and how late he can stay up on Friday night, is now worrying about losing his eyesight, the nerves in his feet, possible complications with vital organs, and even his mortality. He's had to grow up a lot faster than he would have otherwise, and his concerns are vastly different than his friends, or others his age, and now he literally has to think about preserving his life, because the choices he makes now will directly impact his health--both now and in the future. Diabetes is fully ingrained into his life, and almost every hour of the day it has to be a conscious thought at some level--whether it's time to eat, count carbs, give himself insulin, correct a low by drinking a juice, correcting a high by giving himself extra insulin, taking his blood sugar before and after meals/snacks and at bedtime, AND remembering to write it all down every single time. And through it all? I can count on one hand the times he has complained. ♥
This week has been a difficult week, as we got some hard news regarding his diabetes. It has required an intensified effort to figure out what's going on, and to rectify the issue at hand. I've had it on my mind all week long, and while I've struggled with watching him cope with it, I've felt an immense gratitude, and a resolve that we will do whatever we need to do to help him. This chronic illness will be with him his entire life, but he will have a life to live. He can live a long and full life--graduate from high school, serve a mission, go to college, get married, have children, and even grandchildren. He can play sports, travel, and anything else he wants to do. I realize there are many children whose illnesses do not afford them any of those luxuries, and my heart is with all parents who have had to watch their children suffer.
One of the hardest challenges as a parent is to watch your child go through something difficult, something you would gladly take upon yourself if you could, but knowing you can't--that it is theirs to bear. Really, this is what life is about--we will all deal with our own unique trials and set of circumstances that will serve to test and strengthen us.
M. Russell Ballard said, "No matter how difficult the trial, and regardless of how heavy our load, we can take comfort in knowing that others before us have borne life's most grievous trials and tragedies by looking to heaven for peace, comfort, and hopeful assurance. We can know as they knew that God is our Father, that He cares about us individually and collectively, and that as long as we continue to exercise our faith and trust in Him there is nothing to fear in the journey." .
I also love this quote from James E. Faust: "As we live on earth we must walk in faith, nothing doubting. When the journey becomes seemingly unbearable, we can take comfort in the words of the Lord: 'I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee.'.
I know how much our Father in Heaven loves Ryan, and that He will always be with him. This knowledge brings me an immense peace, and I'm so grateful for it.
