Sometimes I look at pictures of my happy, healthy, care free little boy before diagnosis and it makes me sad. Sad that he lost that innocence, sad that he has a huge weight on his shoulder, sad that he he's different than kids his age, sad he has to stop and think about insulin and blood sugar before playing, sad that he has developed anxiety from all this. I always try to look at the silver linings, but man.... Sometimes diabetes just fucking sucks. 

Three years

This was taken three years ago tomorrow. Three years ago today I heard the words "Ollie is a very sick little boy" from our pediatrician.

Today is a day of mixed emotions. I am SO thankful for Dr Mumbauer, our pediatrician. I have heard more horror stories of children misdiagnosed as having a virus or the flu and they end up in a DKA coma (google Kacie Terry if you don't believe me). These stories circulate probably weekly in the DOC (Diabetic Online Community). I am SO thankful for Doug. Everything life throws at us, we grow stronger.

However, I still hate diabetes. I hate that it has robbed my son of a "normal" life. I hate that he rolls his eyes when I tell him he has to check his sugar before he can eat. I hate that he cringes when his pump is inserted. I hate that he has poked his finger over 6,000 times (that's a rough estimate of 6x a day, some days are more, none are less). I hate that he asks me if they are still working on a cure (I don't hate that he asks, I hate that he thinks about it and has to ask).

I feel like I should end with some motivational "we will continue to fight" but it's not fighting anymore, it's our daily routine. Some days are worse than others (Hello, February 22), but it's all our New Normal.