The worst job in the world
It happened at our Type 3 group meeting. The recently retired mother of a healthy, full grown Type-1 was talking about her feelings, still raw after thirty years. “I felt so…..Guilty” she told the group.
Why, I asked.
“Well, I gave it to him,” she said.
That’s ridiculous, I told her. He didn’t get diabetes from eating too many Three Musketeer’s bars. It was in his genes.
“Yes, but they were my genes!”
Wow. I was stunned. I knew how scary it is for Mom’s of young T-1s. Constant worry as they try to guide their children down the tight-rope between hypos and DKA. Dealing with idiot school officials. On the pone all the time checking sugars and making decisions about insulin. Sleepless nights.
It had never occurred to me before that a mother might feel personal responsibility for the genes she passed on to her child. What a burden of unnecessary guilt to carry for 30 years.
But I’ll bet this is one hell of a lot more common that any of us would dare to guess.
I think we need a second, special mother’s day for those ladies who have the worst job in the world. On D-day this November I want all of you to send a special card to all the Moms of T-1s you know. They need to know we love them for all they do, and none of us blames our Mom’s for “giving” us diabetes.