I’m currently sitting in the waiting room of my dad’s first Physical Therapy appointment after his hip replacement. I’m currently sitting here with tears in my eyes because there are few things I can think of that get me as upset as I get than my dad in pain.
It’s wild to think about though… He had his new hip put in on Monday, released from hospital on Wednesday, and today, Thursday, he’s at his first appointment to get him back on his feet. (Horrible pun intended)
I think back to when I got diagnosed with the betes. I think about how it was a crash course in everything and how completely overwhelming it all was. Now that I’m a parent I can only imagaine what my parents were going through, but of course I wasn’t thinking about that as my 9 year old self.
I remember watching my dad leave the hospital room wiping his eyes, be gone for a little bit and then coming back in. I remember him staring at the floor as the doctors were telling us – everything. Not much of it making sense at the time to me. I remember my mom taking notes, listening intently and my dad- looking numb.
I feel that way now – numb.
I think I’m a pretty good mix of both my parents in all honestly. I’m a fierce listener, note taker, list maker, attention to detail person like my mom and then I’m a fun-loving, laid-back, joke at questionable times person like my dad. I think this helped me when I was diagnosed and probably the years after. I had my mom- who could carb count, check my dosage, and schedule doctor appointments and then my dad who could cheer me up after a bad injection, name my insulin with me (Fredricka- don’t ask me why, I have no clue), and yet still be exceptionally supportive and a shoulder to cry on when I needed.
It’s insane how life comes full circle isn’t it? And though a new hip and Physical Therapy is no where near as bad or as permanent (well, the hip is obviously…) as T1D- I’ve done my best to be here for him through every step of this painful process. Both my parents took care of me with a diagnosis I couldn’t possibly understand at the time. Both my parents had parents who were diabetic and so, I’m sure, were horrified when they heard the diagnosis. Both my parents are (thankfully) healthy people and so this experience has given me (what I believe to be) a smidgeybit of a glimpse into what life as a parent with an “unhealthy” kid must be like. Scared, uncertain, scared, feeling the need to be strong and brave, scared, and at times- completely numb. (Did I mention scared?)
I’ve always said that being a parent of a T1D must be absolutely terrifying and though I pray I never have to experience that- watching someone I care for so immensely go through this- feels like the teeeeensiest, tiniest, insight to that life.
So in case I don’t say it often enough: Huge shoutout to all the T1D parents out there. I’m a wreck and it’s my dad and only been 4 days. You guys are heroes and the strength you show- is what keeps us betics strong as well.