Not mine

It is usually with great jealousy that I read other people's blog posts about "diabetes in the wild" encounters.  For some reason, it just never happens for us.  My husband would tell you that it's probably a good thing, because I tend to act like a puppy when they do.  Meaning I get really stupidly excited and tend to pee myself.

Just joking about that last part.

The other day, I had to take Elise to a dermatology appointment.  It seems she has inherited my penchant for weird skin things.  Lucky girl.

When The NP walked into the exam room, she was reading Elise's chart.  We exchanged hellos and she sat down, scooted up really close to Elise and said, "can I show you something?"

As she reached into her bra (something I realize that would alarm most people, but as someone well ingrained in d-culture, I knew what was coming), I smiled.  She pulled out a pump and said, "I have diabetes too."  She then showed Elise the site on her stomach.

Elise showed the NP her pod, and then we got down to business.  It was then that something very wonderful happened.

The NP asked Elise about "bad diabetes days" and went on to tell her that she sometimes feels sorry for herself for having diabetes.  She held out her hands, palms up and fingers spread.  She added, "I hate having to poke holes in my fingers and seeing those little dots everywhere."

Elise held out her own hands, mimicking the NP.  At that moment I felt very much like an intruder.  An outsider.  It was not unlike peering in on a secret handshake to a very exclusive club.

And it was a very poignant reminder that it's her disease, and not mine.

Intellectually, I know this.  But for those of us with kiddos diagnosed very young, for awhile, it is your diabetes too.  No, you do not have to endure the BG checks, the shots, pump changes, the lows or the highs... but you are there for every single number and sometimes you swear you feel that 45 too.

I watched them, one a stranger and the other my sweet 5-year old daughter, as they shared a connection that I can never be a part of. 

Elise has been struggling with diabetes lately.  Laments of feeling alone, like she's the only one that has to poke her fingers and wear a pump.  Crying because she just wants to be like everyone else.  Hating that a high BG won't let her eat dinner, telling everyone to go ahead and eat without her.  I can't even tell her I understand, because she knows that I don't.

I am so thankful to PWD who take the time to reach out to my child, letting her know that she is not alone.  To reassure her that she is going to be okay.  To let her know that she will have a wonderful life, despite diabetes; and it may even lead her down some amazing pathways, if she lets it.