Welcome back to the Poetic Diabetic, the best student-led diabetic blog in all of South Florida (which admittedly isn’t all that big of an accomplishment, given it’s the only student-led diabetic blog in all of South Florida that we know of).

As just about any person with T1D would tell you, this is a 24/7 job. But in many cases, the job of managing T1D goes to more than one person in a family. It’s typical for parents or other caregivers, such as partners or spouses, to bear at least some of the brunt of responsibility for managing the disease.

The burden of managing T1D is felt particularly by parents and caregivers of young children diagnosed with the condition. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I was diagnosed at 13, so I wasn’t all that familiar with having diabetes as a kid. But just as many people with T1D celebrate a “diaversary”, diagnosis is host to plenty of growing pains, regardless of the person’s age at diagnosis.

One of the largest growing pains I experienced was learning to overcome my fear of needles. Even before my diagnosis, I used to have this fear, which was nearly debilitating during visits with doctors. I just couldn’t bring myself to physically inject myself, fearing I’d mess up some process or get the needle stuck in my skin somehow.

Thankfully, my mom, Dr. Hilary “mom-of-the-year” Shane, was there to give a much disgruntled me my insulin. This lasted for about two weeks, until both of us got sick of the predicament and I started delivering my own injections. Nothing like a good ol’ blast of spite to help me get over my fear.

My first independent injection was, frankly, a bit terrifying. Before doing so, I tried to rationalize the act in my mind as best I could, “This is just an obsolete defense mechanism. This fear is meant to protect me from porcupines and bear claws, not life-saving medication!”

I took the plunge and started pressing down on the injection button. One unit. Two units. Three units. Four units. I honestly didn’t think it would be possible to express the sigh of relief I exhaled, finally capable of handling my own injections. One small step toward freedom.

Of course, while I was able to reclaim my independence in self-management, that doesn’t mean my mom would stop nagging me about everything T1D related. She’d yell at me for basically everything, from reminding me to check my levels to telling me to bolus or eat at every little change in levels.

It got old for both of us, fast. She basically treated me as if I was  a 7 year-old. The thing is, I can now see—though at the time never would have admitted it—I did in fact need these reminders. There were some things back then that  I could have done better. And I am sure she woud have preferred it that way as well and to not have to contstantly be on top of how I was managing my T1D.  Fortunately, I’ve since gotten much better at doing these things on my own (though she still reminds me and I know that as my mom, she always will).

I was initially using MDI (multiple daily injections) for about two months before I got a pump.  The number of units of long acting stayed constant and I didn’t have to do much in the way of calculations.  What seemed like a big task for a 13-year-old was remembering to administer my shots every night. Staying on a consistent and balanced schedule was of utmost importance for managing my levels. Unlike something mundane such as forgetting to brush my teeth, if I forgot my does or even worse overdosed, I would have put myself at risk for complications like severe hypoglycemia or Diabetic Keto Acidosis  which could eventually end up putting me in the hospital. Despite my mother’s reminders (which at times feel to me like pestering), she did manage to keep me safe during first few months (besides that time when she accidentally gave me 26 units of short acting rather than long acting, but that’s a story for another time).

By the time I switched to the pump, I was already putting on my own CGM. Since I’m very familiar with using tech, my Dexcom and Omnipod came a lot more naturally to me than to her.  I understood the apps of the CGM and the controller for the pump with relative ease. I mastered all the steps to filling my pump and attaching it to my body and pairing it with the CGM, and my mom never had to touch either device once.

So for any parents reading this, yes, I’m positive your child will eventually be independent, it just might take time! Diabetes is a very difficult condition, mainly because treatment plans and learning curves are just so different for every person.  Rest assured, you should one day be able to retire from your full-time job of being a worry-wart (though again, I know that many parents struggle with entering this kind of retirement.)

Now, more than two years after being diagnosed, I’m able to manage basically all of my T1D responsibilities on my own. I know how to handle my blood glucose, when to eat, when to give myself insulin, all that fun stuff.

I’m also able to do so much more, from troubleshooting my management applications to even traveling abroad! Despite all of this, my mom will always bug me about my diabetes; she’ll always call me whenever I’m low to make sure I’ve eaten; she’ll always ensure she has access to my levels no matter what.

I realize now, though, that she isn’t just doing this to annoy me (though I imagine that’s a beneficial side effect). She’s doing it because she cares about me and because she wants me to be safe and healthy. And that’s what it truly means to be a parent of a kid with diabetes.

That’s all I had to write for today! Thank you so much for reading, and I’ll see you all next time! From one person with T1D  to another.