Yes, that is right. Well, sort of. Soon it will be 26 years, but who is counting. Honestly, I have lost count.
I have lost cost count of how many times my fingers have been poked, how many times I have had blood drawn, and how many shots I have taken. I have lost count of how many hours I have lost sleep, how many nights I forced myself to stay awake, and how many times my husband has too.
I have lost count how many insets I have shot into my body, how many times I have plunge the CGM sensor in my body, and how many times I have inserted a needle in an inner muscle to forced a stubborn high into compliance (but please don’t share that with my endo).
I have lost count of how many times a doorknob has yanked out my inset, or knocked off my CGM sensor, how many times getting dressed or undressed I have ripped out a insert or a CGM sensor. I don’t even know how many times drying off with a towel, I have lost an inset or CGM sensor.
I have lost the count of how many insulin units I have used, how many test strips I have used, how many CGM sensors I have used, and how many needles I have used, and even those silly lancets you are suppose to change every time you poke yourself, but most don’t.
I have lost count how many juice boxes, smarties, and glucose tabs I have consumed. I have lost count of how many times my family has brought me these things, and how many times they have sat with me while I consume these things.
I have lost how much time I have missed work, how much time I have pulled off the side of the road to wait for a low to come up, how much time my kids had to wait for me to be in a safer range, and how many times my husbands has sat patiently by me while my numbers rise.
I do try to forget how many complications I could have despite my efforts of always trying to stay between these impossible lines.
I know that all my D brothers and sisters have lost count as well. I know that they too will continue to thrive despite what numbers are thrown at us. I know we are all more than the disease that can define part of who we are. I know we all will continue to raise awareness and funds until Type 1 is Type 0.
25 years, and counting. 25 years and I don’t regret a thing. Because in a weird twisted way, this disease has brought an awesome community into my life, and has given so much more than silly numbers. It has given me a family that has no boundaries, and a community that rallies together to support each other. And that is a huge blessing and I am honored to be a member of.