18 years.
Today.
I'm not sure why this year is different. Or if it even is. All I know is that this year the anniversary of my 18th year with Type 1 diabetes didn't pass quietly. This year it was remarkable, whereas each year leading to now I've gotten through April 23rd without even realizing the significance of the day.
And now I'm wondering at its significance.
Why do we 'celebrate' or commemorate or even keep a mental reminder of the date of our diagnosis? Unlike birthdays or marriage anniversaries, the date of diagnosis is not a happy day. For me, it was an awful day; the skies were not blue, the sun was not shining, and though I received gifts, I could well have done without them. Sure, the following days had some fun mixed in - sitting on my bed with Mom, sucking water into syringes and shooting it at unsuspecting passing nurses (instead of injecting the practice oranges, we ate them). Making a parrot that I named Kira, in honour of my little roomie, watching Disney movies and Eating. In Bed.
But April the 23rd itself was tears. From the skies, as though the grey clouds cried in sympathy, and from me, in the car on the way to the hospital as I tried to understand my life. Life. You know, I had to ask my Mom what date I'd been officially diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. That was a few years ago, after which I proceeded to forget again. If she hadn't made an offhand remark this week after I mentioned that Moo is turning 4 on April 22 ( "that's the day after the date you were diagnosed" ) I'd have erroneously written April 28 in this post.
Would it have mattered?
Every year is another year that I've grabbed my Type 1 diabetes by the tail and kicked it's ass. I have always tried my best, and when that wasn't enough, I tried harder. And I've always succeeded. I could care less what the exact date is - but ask me what year, and I will tell you proudly.
Eighteen.
Today is April 23rd and I have been Type 1 diabetic for Eighteen years. I am healthy and have no related complications.
And tomorrow I'll be a healthy, complication-free Type 1 diabetic for Eighteen years.
And one day.
18 years.
Today.
I'm not sure why this year is different. Or if it even is. All I know is that this year the anniversary of my 18th year with Type 1 diabetes didn't pass quietly. This year it was remarkable, whereas each year leading to now I've gotten through April 23rd without even realizing the significance of the day.
And now I'm wondering at its significance.
Why do we 'celebrate' or commemorate or even keep a mental reminder of the date of our diagnosis? Unlike birthdays or marriage anniversaries, the date of diagnosis is not a happy day. For me, it was an awful day; the skies were not blue, the sun was not shining, and though I received gifts, I could well have done without them. Sure, the following days had some fun mixed in - sitting on my bed with Mom, sucking water into syringes and shooting it at unsuspecting passing nurses (instead of injecting the practice oranges, we ate them). Making a parrot that I named Kira, in honour of my little roomie, watching Disney movies and Eating. In Bed.
But April the 23rd itself was tears. From the skies, as though the grey clouds cried in sympathy, and from me, in the car on the way to the hospital as I tried to understand my life. Life. You know, I had to ask my Mom what date I'd been officially diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. That was a few years ago, after which I proceeded to forget again. If she hadn't made an offhand remark this week after I mentioned that Moo is turning 4 on April 22 ( "that's the day after the date you were diagnosed" ) I'd have erroneously written April 28 in this post.
Would it have mattered?
Every year is another year that I've grabbed my Type 1 diabetes by the tail and kicked it's ass. I have always tried my best, and when that wasn't enough, I tried harder. And I've always succeeded. I could care less what the exact date is - but ask me what year, and I will tell you proudly.
Eighteen.
Today is April 23rd and I have been Type 1 diabetic for Eighteen years. I am healthy and have no related complications.
And tomorrow I'll be a healthy, complication-free Type 1 diabetic for Eighteen years.
And one day.