I am terrified my feet will be amputated.
I was sitting in the doctor’s office waiting for my prognosis. Over the weekend we held a local wake for my grandfather. A retired Air Force chaplain, he was ultimately to be laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery in six months.
Yes the waitlist is that long.
I hear nurses moving through the halls, talking about their kids activities for the week as they bustle to their next task.
l had been been hurting for days, though I didn’t know why.
At the visitation, two things happened that proved something serious was at play here.
First, as I was shaking hands with a family friend I hadn’t seen in some time, he didn’t even say hi before he blurted out:
“Jesse! You have lost a lot of weight!”
Now generally that would be a compliment, but not in my case. I don’t have much to lose.
My mom, as moms will do turned and asked me about it.
Honestly I didn’t know.
Then everything went downhill from there.
After the wake and the meal for the family, we went home. About an hour’s drive.
But I don’t remember it at all.
My brother and I were in one car, my parents and sisters in another.
Apparently I blacked out. According to my brother I was talking crazy and the two bottles of water we stopped at a gas station to get earlier, yeah, I drank them both blindly.
I don’t know why or how but I came to at the time we got home.
Now I think of it, there was no attempt to take me to the hospital that night. My dad reached out to my doctor, as we traveled home and he had made some suggestions.
As I came out of my stupor, I remember my dad leaving immediately.
When he returned, he had this red device.
“The doctor wants me to check your blood sugar” he said.
I watched the test strip, entered the tester, the screen lighting up with numbers and random information. If I remember correctly, my mom picked up the blue device lying on the counter, and taking my hand, pricked my finger with it.
The blot of blood rose as she gave it a gentle squeeze.
The moment of truth.
The screen on the tester blinked three times and I remember sucking in my breath.
543.
My blood sugar was extremely high.
My dad let the doctor know. It was the weekend, so I scheduled to come in first thing Monday morning, and I needed to limit what I ate. The doctor already knew what I had yet to learn.
For next few days I cut out all the carbs. I ate cheese, sandwich meat, sausage, more cheese, and eggs. And I lived.
Monday was a day of bloodwork.
My mom and dad were quiet. Honestly I think they knew too.
Tuesday I am back at the doctor’s office. As he entered, I had a sinking feeling. Doubts creeping in. What is he about to say?
The words came like lightning.
“You have diabetes,” he said.
I’m not sure how much more of his words I heard in that moment. The thunder of thoughts filling my head.
• I’m going to get my legs amputated.
• I can never eat sweets!
• I will live the rest of my life taking insulin shots!
And about a million other things that took my mind for a crazy ride over the next few minutes.
Although these events took place 8 years ago, I see them as vividly today as I sit here writing.
I think about how I took my first dose of insulin. I remember how afraid of shots I was at that time. Afraid of needles. Afraid of the pain. Afraid even though it was supposed to make my life better. Within hours, I noticed a change. My joints didn’t hurt so much. I wasn’t needing to urinate so much. It wasn’t perfect, but I felt healthier.
It was a beginning. But the road to stability lay before me. I won’t say diabetes is hard. There are worse diseases out there.
But diabetes is challenging. We talk a lot about consistency on SubStack. Prior to my diagnosis, I wasn’t very consistent. But with diabetes you have to be consistent. Blood sugar levels have to stay in a certain range. You have to exercise. You have to eat the right foods. You have to. It’s not optional. You do everything right, or at least try. Diabetes is fickle. You can do everything right and still end up having a less than ideal blood sugar.
Don’t beat yourself up.
Correct it and move on.
Life is like diabetes too isn’t it?
We all have earth-shaking moments break into our routines and alter our plans.
You’ve lost a loved one. You’re watching a parent or grandparent fade away from Dementia, hardly remembering your name. A child wakes up sick. You’ve lost your job. Your relationship with the love of your life is falling apart and you don’t know what to do.
We all have these sort of earth-shaking moments.
For me I turn to God. He is my Rock, my Salvation. I have nothing to fear.
I am reminded of the words of Stonewall Jackson:
“My religious beliefs teach me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time of my death. I do not concern myself with that, but to be always ready whenever it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and all men would be equally brave."
I don’t know what it is that you are facing right now. But God does.
I have found Him faithful in my life.
Matthew 7:7-8 says:
‘Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to you: For every one that asks receives; and he that seeks finds; and to him that knocks it shall be opened.’
Seek God! Seek His will in your earth-shaking moments. In the little moments. In your moments of despair and doubt. He will answer.
Remember that everything that is, or will happen in your life is meant to refine you to be the person you should be.
Life is a journey of becoming.
Thanks for reading!
My mum also got the diagnosis of Diabetes about 3 years ago so I read your piece discerningly. I appreciate how you walked me through it (You put me in her shoes because I was on a different continent when she was diagnosed and she never wanted to worry me with details).
2 more things I must say also resonated with me:
- God has fixed the time of my death. I do not concern myself with that...
- Life is a journey of becoming...
Thank you so much for sharing!
Been down this road. My bloodsugar number was 643. Diet, exercise and insulin twice a day and I’m still kicking 22 years later.