Someone on a well-known Type 1 Diabetes message board asked some interesting questions on how to make sure a child growing up with this chronic disease does not have any psychological downsides to it.
There is no easy answer. As with everything in life, you can only do what you can, in the best way you can, with the total well-being of your child first and foremost in your mind.
But this got me thinking. What is happiness? Is it an acceptance of what life deals you and getting on with things? Or is it the pursuit of something better, the perpetual hope you can better your life or yourself?
I think it's neither. I think happiness is what you feel when you see your kid doing kid's things, it is the flowers blooming and a smile comes across your face, it is the blue sky and the sun, it is your favorite item at the grocery-store on sale, it is a quote, a hello, an unexpected blessing in your day. It is all those things and many more, and they all together make for a big thing - the realization you're ok, safe and still here. No matter what, there will always be thousands of little things reminding you to be happy.
Finding Mildred
Monday, March 28, 2011
Monday, December 20, 2010
Re - Pffffft
Well, I haven't written anything in a while. Not from lack of inspiration, just didn't feel like it.
Nothing exciting happening. Same old stuff.
Christmas is right around the corner. As usual, I have not asked Santa for anything. I don't need anything, to be honest, except world peace, a cure for all diseases and a special place reserved for those people I cannot stand. Not much to ask for, I think. I didn't include the moon. THAT would be overdoing it. And I don't like to exaggerate.
Anyway, where was I? Right, Christmas. Yeah...I'll be glad when it's over. I'm actually excited for the New Year (not the party, but the actual year). I have big plans, big dreams, big projects.
Then the next holiday season comes around and I'll realize none of those plans, dreams, projects ever came to fruition.
And I'll be a grump again, just in time for Christmas.
Maybe this time it'll be different.
Happy Holidays. Honestly.
Nothing exciting happening. Same old stuff.
Christmas is right around the corner. As usual, I have not asked Santa for anything. I don't need anything, to be honest, except world peace, a cure for all diseases and a special place reserved for those people I cannot stand. Not much to ask for, I think. I didn't include the moon. THAT would be overdoing it. And I don't like to exaggerate.
Anyway, where was I? Right, Christmas. Yeah...I'll be glad when it's over. I'm actually excited for the New Year (not the party, but the actual year). I have big plans, big dreams, big projects.
Then the next holiday season comes around and I'll realize none of those plans, dreams, projects ever came to fruition.
And I'll be a grump again, just in time for Christmas.
Maybe this time it'll be different.
Happy Holidays. Honestly.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
For a sweet girl
Just wanted to post about a 13yr old girl who lost her battle with Type 1 Diabetes.
My heart is aching for her parents and sister. I wish I could take their pain away and tell them all will be ok. But I cannot.
May you find peace at last, sweet girl, and may you look down on your family and send them little signs that you're ok now, and give them the strength they need to make it through life.
You are missed and many hearts are mourning your departure from this world.
Rest in peace, sweet girl.
My heart is aching for her parents and sister. I wish I could take their pain away and tell them all will be ok. But I cannot.
May you find peace at last, sweet girl, and may you look down on your family and send them little signs that you're ok now, and give them the strength they need to make it through life.
You are missed and many hearts are mourning your departure from this world.
Rest in peace, sweet girl.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Consciousness
For me the most challenging psychological aspect of having a child living with T1 D is making sure *my* fears/anxieties/anger/sadness are not transferred to my kid.
I am a very spontaneous person, and you see easily when I'm ok or not, so I have had to learn to control this part of myself, for the sake of my kid's emotional safety. And also because I am a firm believer in never giving up, so I'd like my son to get that vibe from me. Never give up! No matter what. I'm stubborn, what can I say...
So, living with D has taught me 1) humility because of it's unpredictability and 2) to be conscious of how I perceive it. Because there is someone watching me - my son.
I am a very spontaneous person, and you see easily when I'm ok or not, so I have had to learn to control this part of myself, for the sake of my kid's emotional safety. And also because I am a firm believer in never giving up, so I'd like my son to get that vibe from me. Never give up! No matter what. I'm stubborn, what can I say...
So, living with D has taught me 1) humility because of it's unpredictability and 2) to be conscious of how I perceive it. Because there is someone watching me - my son.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The Never Ending Story
Although this song has nothing to with T1 D, the title pretty much sums up what it is for me.
Never ending....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwF4PPoEWD4&feature=related
Having a sad moment. Fleeting surely, but here nonetheless.
Never ending....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwF4PPoEWD4&feature=related
Having a sad moment. Fleeting surely, but here nonetheless.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
The whisper
For a long time, I was screaming everything about T1 D. From the anger to the sadness, to wanting others to understand what it is having a child with D. Basically, to force upon the world what I wanted to say.
And that had its place. And that was ok.
Now, I don't want D to be in my face, nor in others' faces.
I want it to be like a whisper, ever-present, in my mind, that it is still there but that it's not the only thing there.
I'm ready to move on. Taking D with me. Instead of having it drag me along.
And that's ok too.
And that had its place. And that was ok.
Now, I don't want D to be in my face, nor in others' faces.
I want it to be like a whisper, ever-present, in my mind, that it is still there but that it's not the only thing there.
I'm ready to move on. Taking D with me. Instead of having it drag me along.
And that's ok too.
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