It Depends on your Environment...

So, I have been wondering if my experiences are similar to other siblings of a T1, or if my situation was unique.  What do I mean by that?  Well, MY memories of my childhood definitely are shaped by my sister being T1.  It seemed to always be there, SO stressful.  Getting to a restaurant for a 5:00 dinner reservation only to find we had to "wait" made my mom go into overdrive because my sister had already give her shot, which then made me panic.  I feel like I was always worrying and stressing in reaction to the situation.  EVERYTHING seemed like it was such a big deal.  Maybe that's just me?  But that's how I remember it.

The reason I ask this is due to some reflection recently on my husband's family.  He grew up the youngest of 5 children.  Four boys, one girl.  One of his brother's was born with lack of oxygen to the brain and is severely mentally challenged and now as an adult lives in a group home.  You would think that my husband would have really stressful memories about having such a sibling, and that it would have caused stress on his family.  But, it doesn't seem to.  His family seems to just "roll with it" and not sweat the small stuff.

So, was my experience more taxing because the personalities in my family were more prone to "panic" and escalation?  Potentially.  I don't feel like anyone ever sat me down and dealt with MY fears about it all.  I am not sure I was allowed to have any fears???  It wouldn't have been politically correct??

Probably sounds like obvious observations.  But, when you are so deep IN it, a PART of it....its harder to step back and "reflect".....

I am glad I am starting to...

Is it odd that this NEVER occurred to me???????

Don't ask me why TODAY, randomly, I considered my chances of developing Diabetes since my sister is T1.  But, today I did.....this is what I found:

Just who is at risk for developing type 1 diabetes? Here's a sampling of what Dr. Warram, a Lecturer in Epidemiology at Harvard School of Public Health, said is known:

• If an immediate relative (parent, brother, sister, son or daughter) has type 1 diabetes, one's risk of developing type 1 diabetes is 10 to 20 times the risk of the general population; your risk can go from 1 in 100 to roughly 1 in 10 or possibly higher, depending on which family member has the diabetes and when they developed it.
• If one child in a family has type 1 diabetes, their siblings have about a 1 in 10 risk of developing it by age 50.

Hmmm....I am 45.  But those are pretty interesting stats .....


So, does that mean I have 5 more years left of worry to beat this "stat"???  Shesh, I am glad I didn't know this earlier and spend ALL my time worrying....lol....

Always on my Mind...

Been a while since I posted, but, that's not to say Diabetes isn't always on my mind!  I was thinking one of these days that I should count the number of times I think about it a day.  Which, I guess is odd considering I don't have diabetes or live with my T1 sister anymore.  But, it hits me every day in almost everything I do.  I might be just randomly doing something like cleaning out a drawer and I'll have a memory about an insulin reaction my sister had growing up in which she was putting strange things in a drawer and that's how we realized she was low!  And, try as I might, I can't just let the memory pass without having "feelings" about it.  About how much my sister deals with and how I just don't know how she does it.  Then, sometimes I feel guilty that I got off so easy because I am not T1.

T1 is part of my identity.  It shaped me.  Trying to figure out what to "do" with that is the challenge....

Why Me....

You know what's weird??  I have never allowed myself to ask that question.  But, I feel like its sort of been a thought in the back of my mind.  Unspoken....Unallowed.  I am SURE that my sister has had this thought SO many times in her life (or maybe not??), but I have never felt like its something I deserved to ask myself.  Because i am NOT the diabetic.  But, still....Why Me?  Why did MY family have to be affected by this disease??  Why did MY sister have to have type 1??  I wonder what could have been, what life would have been like.

Would my sister and I have had a different relationship?  Would my parents have stayed married??  Would my brother have felt less insecure??

Well, I just wonder.  I am angry I have to wonder.  I hate that there is this "thing" that tore everything apart and remains.....

Hello Me....

At some point in life,  you start to figure out who you are apart from your family.  For some people this happens pretty early in life.  For me, it feels like its happening now.

I realize that growing up in a T1 household, there were just so many rules in place to keep my sister in control and the family organized.  And there was also such a big lesson about cause and effect that I learned at such a young age.  If my sister's diet wasn't right, there was a price to pay.  I remember so much yelling and screaming and fear when my sister would have an insulin reaction.  I know it really all came from fear, I felt the fear..but, it manifested itself in chaos.  I remember being worried that my mom would get fed up with it all and leave us.  She took a lot of fear and anger out on me.  I worried that an insulin reaction would make her mad.  And I am not the diabetic, so I can't speak for how my sister felt about it all.  I remember my mom getting SO mad at my dad if he was left to "babysit" us and he gave my sister the "wrong" thing.  Oh man, the consequences of that sucked!

So, the thing is, I developed coping skills to exist in this environment.  And they were significant coping skills.  And then at 18 I essentially left home and went off to college, never to really return except for summers.  My T1 sister was 15 at the time.  So, all of my memories are of what it was like to live in a family with a CHILD with T1.  And I was a child.  I am realizing that all my thoughts and methods of operating are stuck in time.  My sister, on the other hand, grew up and evolved with her disease.  She learned to gain increasing control over her own health and destiny.  She had to suffer all the consequences on her own as she left home on how to manage her disease.

But for me, I guess I never evolved.  I have been operating in my mind, with the same old broken record of coping skills that it took to be a child in a T1 household.  How to get attention in that environment, how to keep everything in control, how to worry.  I am an expert at worry!

So, today I am realizing that...today I am saying "Hello Me"....things have changed....its time to think of me for a while!

Did I Matter.....

I just wonder sometimes.  Did I matter to my family?  Was I 'non diabetic' ENOUGH??  Did I do enough to make up for the fact that my sister has T1??

I wish I didn't worry about these thing.....

Fearing the Worst....

I was thinking about something the other day and it hit me that I have been living under false, or dated(?) information.  Once my sister's diagnosis set in and we began to live with it as a family, there was an unsaid reality that existed....That this illness was chronic and she would die.  I realized this morning that that fear of her mortality has been with me all my life.  As a kid I was so scared of it I couldn't even talk about it.  I remember relatives shaking their heads and saying "oh your poor sister" and then implying that her life expectancy wasn't that long.  Oh man, that used to scare me.  As a kid, I didn't know what "not that long" meant, but, I just knew it was "there" and it was another reason why it was hard for me to be heard because how do you compete with that??

As an adult, in the back of my mind there was always this mythical clock ticking on her life.  Over the years I have woke up in a cold sweat so many nights, panicked that I haven't done "enough" for her, because I still believed there was some "timeline" out there.  I have also spent most of my life believing in my mind that its only a matter of time before i would need to donate a kidney to her.  Its EVERY PART OF WHO I AM.  I have realized!!  As a kid i FEARED her death and because of the lack of education on the disease back then, my fears were often validated by uninformed relatives.  As an adult.....I have feared it and believed that's AGAIN why my life issues will never be able to compete with that.

BUT, now let's talk about reality!!!  My sister is REALLY HEALTHY!  Yes, this is me saying this.  My sister isn't walking around on her death bed like I have been conditioned to think since childhood.  She has a full life, and there is absolutely no reason she couldn't outlive me.  So, what's changed??  I think knowledge about the disease since it was presented to ME in 1976 has certainly changed.  I think my sister is amazing and takes such good care of herself that its no where NEAR the "worst case" scenario that I thought as a kid.  And, I have grown up and maybe am able to get some perspective on it.  

What I am trying to learn to do is separate my lingering childhood fears and conditioning about all of this from facts!  Its just that sometimes, it takes me a while to do that, and then its like being hit over the head!

Its time to let go of the worst case, gloom and doom scenarios drilled in to my head as a kid.......My sister is not going anywhere....

Even the simple things get affected.....

Last night, my husband was out of town, and I did something I don't think I haver ever done before.  I ordered a pizza to be delivered.  And I was home alone.  And we all know, you can't really get a "slice" of pizza Delivered.  So, I ordered a WHOLE pizza. And did I mention, I was home ALONE.   Of course I added a "side salad" so that I wouldn't look like such a junkfood overeater to the girl i was giving my order to!

Then, as I waited for the pizza, I had all of these old ways of thinking that have been ingrained into my head as a child.  I started to scold myself for the amount of food I ordered.  I felt like I needed to call my mother and say OK OK, YES, I understand i am exceeding my carb limits and probably every other limit out there as well for the day!  Then I had to have an arguement with myself as to how I must have lost total self control if I needed to have this pizza.

So, a simple pizza becomes an internal struggle for me.  And don't you just know, at some point in the thought process I would have to scold myself for being so selfish as to eat such a frivolous meal and such a frivolous time knowing that my T1 sister couldn't.

I can see my mother standing above me saying "B, you are just eating carbs for dinner?"  Last I checked i am 44 and can eat what I want!

I will say though, when the warm, cheesey pizza was finally delivered, it was worth all my self criticism, cause now I know that I come by them honestly.

How Do I Explain...

So, this past Sunday I was getting my hair cut and colored by the same girl that I have been going to for over a year.  For some reason on this day, we were talking about how much we both love dogs and so I decided to mention that my sister has a service dog.  Of course, the same thing always happens when I tell that to someone.  They say "oh wow, is your sister blind".  To which I have to say "no, my sister has Type 1 Diabetes and she has a service dog to alert her when her blood sugar is out of range and she needs to take action like testing or eating.

But, of course after I give this explanation, I can always tell that it went right over the person's head and they didn't really hear me, and so I then feel the need to push ahead with more "info".  My stylist asks me when my sister was diagnosed and I said when she was 6.  To which my stylist responded "wow, that's so young...i didn't know people got diabetes that young.  She went on to tell me that her 65 year old grandma is diabetic and she has an old uncle that is as well.

Well, anyone who knows me, knows that I can't let that go.  So, of course i had to commence "operation  explain the difference between Type 1 and Type 2 Diabetes".  My poor student stares at me wondering how they got themselves into this!  I just can't help it, It MATTERS to me that people KNOW the difference between 1 and 2.  Is it only me that cares??  I don't know, it just bothers me.

Ok, then, my poor stylist continues with her lack of understanding and says "oh, so, I'll bet your sister is really sad cause she can't eat sugar".

So, there I sat for a split second....sigh......

Trying to decide if I go further and explain to her the complexities of Type 1.  How insulin relates to food, and that the understanding of that relationship has evolved and become more sophisticated.  So that NO, its not all about just not being able to eat sugar.  And then do I go further and talk about how my sister is allergic to insulin and has to mix it with steroids before injecting?   But, by now, I caught the glazed over look in my stylists eyes and decided to leave it for another time.

I DO believe in educating people one at a time, that's for sure, but that day think I did enough.

Just my little pet peeve....making sure the difference between the "types" are understood.

JDRF...

I Listened to the JDRF live broadcast today about the artificial pancreas and the FDA.  Honestly, its seems amazingly frustrating to listen to all the ideas that are out there, but are all just "in the pipe".  I wish really cool ideas could get to market faster. 

It was interesting to read the live comments stream by as people were listening to the presentation.  "Interesting" because it seemed to sum up what I (as a NON type 1, but an interested, affected, compassionate party) have thought.  Here were two of the comments that reflected a lot of listeners:  "We Type 1's need to get more organized and start thinking about employing more radical techniques", and "We need to get more organized and more Coordinated". 

You know, I watch commercials for the 3 day walk for breast cancer.  I have seen the masses rally to find cures for HIV and other diseases.  I have been asked to participate in SUCH a variety of charity fundraising causes in my life, yet NEVER one for JDRF unless I initiated it.  It just doesn't seem as common.

Should I be doing something?? 

It is interesting how this has made charities "annoy" me.  When I see someone raising money for any other cause other than Type 1, I get all tense inside.  It makes me feel angry and guilty at the same time.  I am angry that its money going to another cause and not type 1 (isn't that terrible??) and feel guilty because I think I should be doing more.

And I am only a bystander.....so, I hope I haven't offended....

Sigh...

Well, I spent the weekend in the hospital.  Honestly, i have had lots of symptoms lately that just don't seem to be "obvious" for the doctors to understand.  The latest diagnosis is Sjogren's Syndrome.  I had never heard of it until my doctor told me I had it and I immediately ran home and googled it.  I learned its an autoimmune disease.  Hmmm....would it make sense that I have an autoimmune disease if my sister is type 1?  Does that mean auto immune diseases run in the "family"?  Just questions I have.

Anyway, along with the unexplained symptoms and pain that I have been having lately, I wound up in the ER this weekend.  They "think" it could be a kidney stone...but, they couldn't find it on the xray, so can't confirm.  I have had one before, so...I am pretty sure I know that's what it was.  But, I also have a headache that is KILLING me that they don't seem to be able to get under control.

Just a strange weekend.  A weekend full of symptoms that hurt, and doctors that can't diagnose.  When there is no diagnosis, I start to think what I am feeling is not "real".

This is sort of a situation I wouldn't share much with my family.  I have sort of learned over the years that nothing competes with type 1.  And I have also realized that I don't want to anyway....

I think sometimes when I talk about MY health issues to my parents, they sigh and want to just pat me on the head and tell me to run along.  I think they have had their "fill" of the illness called Type 1, and there is no room for me (and, that is just an honest assessment, not trying to sound like a martyr).

BUT, today was a good day.  Today, I finally felt a little better.  Today I bought a book on Sjogren's and am trying to read all about it.  ALTHOUGH, honestly, since there isn't a full proof way to diagnose it, how do I know for SURE that I should grab on to this and "go" with it?

Sigh......

Motivation....

A few years ago i trained for and ran the Chicago Marathon.  And for any one who has ever ran a marathon, you know there is a point (usually between mile 18-22) where you realize you either will or won't be able to continue running, and may have to start walking.  Its a decision that is SO mental and requires so much inner strength.

I thank my sister for being the source of my inner strength at my marathons.  I think about "tweets" or "blogs" of hers that I have read that discuss the honest, real, day to day pains in the ASS that go along with being a T1.  Or I think about how we all used to go trick or treating at halloween and she had to give all her candy to my brother and I and how unfair that is for a little kid.  And then I "decide" that I can keep going if she can deal with all of that.

My diabetic family has taught me that if they can do it, I can do it........

The other day, a friend of mine read my T1 sister's blog and he said to me "wow, she really keeps her A1C's TIGHT, impressive."  And I felt this sense of pride for my sister!!  Like, YEAH,,,that's MY sister!!  She makes me feel happy and motivated, because that is something that SHE did!!

So, just fyi, my sissy....I am proud of you!  Always.

Games....

There is this little mind game I like to play with myself every so often.  I like to call it "Who has it worse".  I almost NEVER win this game.  I feel a bit exposed admitting this thought process of mine, but here goes...

Here is the objective of the game (as if its not obvious from the name..lol):  Determine what I am feeling (physically or mentally) and then compare it to other members in my family in an effort to see who has it worse. 

Ok, so here is an example.  There have been days when I am writing this blog that I think "sure B, you have these odd, lingering effects from growing up in a diabetic household, but you are not THE diabetic, so you lose, your feelings are not worthy.".  Or, when I think about the enormous responsibility it was to be the oldest child and have to babysit my T1 sister, I lose again, because i say "well, B, think about what your mother had to go through having ALL the responsibility".  It can play out in other ways too.  If I am sick.  Two years ago I had to have surgery to remove a kidney stone (and i was SUPER scared to have it done).  And in my mind, for a second I thought "oh, ok, do I win in my family on this one"....but, ultimately I know its not "enough" to ever compete with a lifelong, chronic illness like type 1 (and obviously, I don't want to......this is clearly a mental exercise....)

Its a weird thing to do, trust me, I know.  To always feel like I am not heard.  Or not 'enough'.  I mean, in the end, how can you compare ANY short term illness to T1? 

And then, I feel ashamed for these thoughts, for not being grateful enough for NOT having T1.

Sigh.......did I mention the "lingering effects of growing up in a T1 household?.......

Thirsty....

Just laughing to myself a bit today about how I'm sort of "programmed" to view being thirsty. 

I find myself going down this crazy thought process for such a normal human need.  Ok, here is what I mean...

So, first I notice that I am thirsty.  Then I think "am i unusually thirsty, does this MEAN something".  I just remember growing up being told that being thirsty was a "sign" that you might be diabetic.  And with my sister being type 1, it felt sometimes that it was just a matter of time before I would be diagnosed.  That's how I used to think, at least, because neither I nor anyone seemed to understand WHY my sister contracted this chronic illness. 

So it went.  I felt like I monitored my "thirstiness", my parents monitered my "thirstiness", and now as an adult, if I am thirsty, my first response is NOT the typical "oh, geeze, you just ran 10 miles, of course you would be thirsty".  My first response is "Oh CRAP, is this a sign I might be diabetic"..

Weird, huh?????

Sensitive....

Something being a "type 1 sibling" has taught me is how to be amazingly tuned in to people and how they act.  And of course any care giver to a type 1 could say this so I am not claiming to have a lock on this particular skill.

But the thing is, growing up, I obviously paid so much attention to how my sister "acted".  If she seemed just the slightest bit different when we were kids, it usually seemed the outcome was an insulin reaction.  After a while, you start to hone your skill at picking up on just the TINIEST change in behavior in order to take preventative action.

Obviously, as a child, I wasn't primarily responsible for taking care of my sister, but its inescapable to avoid participating in the "detection" and at times being the one who noticed the changes and initiated action.

I only bring this up, because I realize I am like that with ALL my relationships and its nice to understand where it comes from.  I am SO sensitive to how a friend or loved one acts and seem to notice just the slightest change in their behavior.  I am not doing this on purpose, of course, its just part of me.  I grew up learning that changes in behavior that didn't seem "normal" usually meant "danger".  They were a warning sign to get my sister help.  To get her sugar.  And of course, it SCARED me when my sister would have an insulin reaction as a kid (well, who am i kidding, it scares me now, but I don't live with her so I don't face it every day anymore).

But, I don't think its a behavior that you just apply to ONE person, and I think its been one of those really great "benefits" of growing up in a diabetic household.  I am Sensitive to people.  I notice when something is wrong...

And who doesn't want to be noticed???

Relating....

Ok, seriously, I was doing some "googling" today in another futile attempt to find ANY type of information about being a SIBLING of a type 1 diabetic.  If you ARE the diabetic, you could get LOST in websites and blogs with stories and tips and information its probably overload.  But, I want information about being a SIBLING, how to cope, and the lingering effects of growing up in a diabetic household. 

Then something from the JDRF website popped up.  Just a simple little thing, but it mattered to me.  It was a Q & A posting.  Here was the "question":

Q: My little sister was diagnosed in December, and now she's getting all the attention, and I'm really jealous. I'm 13 and really know better than that, and I know I need to be more mature, but I can't help it. HELP ME PLEASE!!!

Honestly, I didn't find the response all that helpful or relevant.  It was certainly "intellectually" correct, but not emotionally helpful.  What WAS helpful was seeing the question itself.  BECAUSE THAT IS EXACTLY SOMETHING I WOULD HAVE WRITTEN WHEN I WAS 13!!!  I understand what this kid is saying about knowing that they NEED to be more mature.  Man, the guilt I have carried around my adult life for NOT being more mature is immense.  YET, this kid is 13.  That's too young to know how to be "mature" like that.  I wish as kids we knew that and could let ourselves off the hook instead of feeling guilty about it.  Its a lot of pressure.  AND, I understand this person's jealousy.  I don't feel jealous today, but that jealousy ruled my childhood.

Anyway....just interesting when I find things I can relate to.

Food......

Well, first, lets remind everyone that I am NOT a diabetic.  But I don't remember anything different.  I grew up with a sister who was type one and the "regiment" of control is second nature to me.  As an adult who has not lived at home OR with my sister for over 25 years, I still have all of the old eating habits.  Ok, for example. I get up every morning and at some point need to eat breakfast.  Its just not so simple for me though.  I think "ok B, what is your fruit exchange going to be, or maybe you need to add a protein to that"  Or another favorite "i would like to put sugar in my coffee, but that's a no-no".  I have so many RULES around what i think is acceptable to eat because I have so many MEMORIES of what my sister couldn't eat in all of those early years.  Sometimes I just don't eat certain foods because i know my sister can't (or honestly, probably could now, but 25 years ago, the rules were different).  I am deathly afraid of deviating from the way i was taught to eat with my sister as a kid.  For SO many reasons...the biggest being that I feel like SHE didn't get to grow up and go "away" from it, so how can I?

I have things about food and other people that annoy me and no one understands it.  When I meet friends for breakfast and they order orange juice...like a super GIANT glass of orange juice, I can barely contain my horror!  I mean, do they KNOW how many "fruits" that is??  I want to give them a lecture that, at most, they could have a half a cup of orange juice (and seriously, I have even started to change my memory of that rule to now think maybe it was even only a FOURTH of a cup that equals a "fruit").  Some of my unlucky friends actually GET the lecture from me, and they stare with a blank look on their face at my passion for this.

That happens to me all the time.  The PASSION which I will unload on some poor unsuspecting person that would dare to not be thankful that their pancreas just casually produces the insulin they need to process whatever they put in to their body.

And so, it seems that people RARELY ever "get" me.  At first I SEEM normal.  But, i have this hidden disease that has no name.  I grew up in a Diabetic household where it seemed food both kept my sister alive, yet was the cause of so much heartache.  If we got it "wrong", there were repercussions.  There would be an insulin reaction and those scared me so much as a kid.  When they happened in the middle of the night, my brother would get in my bed and we would lay there together and listen to my parents in my sisters bedroom trying to handle it themselves, and when they couldn't, call the paramedics.

THAT memory....clinging to my baby brother in my bed in fear, waiting for my sister to be "ok" is what keeps me from being able to freely make food choices.

Are there any other siblings of type 1's out there that have felt this way????

Trying To Be Heard.....

So, here has been what's on my mind lately......

I have been thinking that for most of my life I have given no validity to the idea that growing up with a sister who is a Type 1 diabetic may have also impacted ME.  Recently, I am allowing myself to think it had more of an impact that I yet realize.  THIS is what I am finally coming to understand a month before my 45th birthday (better late than never, right?).  I am only NOW realizing how my family dynamics may have affected me.   I continue to believe that I don’t “do” enough to make up for the fact that I am not diabetic and my sister is.  

A good friend recently made a comment to me that seemed to resonate.  She said “B, your sister has built a full life and is happy, you on the other hand are living like the Diabetic.  You can’t let the guilt go.”  Maybe she’s right, but how do I accept that I am not the Diabetic, and the sister I love so much can’t escape it?

Well, lets start with the beginning, what I remember from my perspective, my sister's, I am sure, is different!

When I was 9 years old, my younger sister who was 6 at the time was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.  At the time it was called Juevenille Diabetes.  It was in the summer, I was away at camp when the “event” happened.  My sister went in for her kindergarten checkup and was sent immediately to the ER and admitted to the hospital.  I didn’t know any of this, of course, because I was happily up at summer camp worrying about what I would make at crafts that day.  While I was gone, so many changes took place.  My parents, specifically my mom, had to absorb the news.  They had to accept all of this information that was now being given to them about the lifelong disease that my sister would fight, and their responsibility in keeping their child alive.  They had to learn about insulin and how the body absorbed it, blood sugar levels and what they meant, how to give a child a daily shot, the proper diet that went along with certain types of insulin to give, and how to actually give a shot.  But, I didn’t know this.  This is what I knew.  I was the oldest child.  I have a younger sister who is 3 years younger than me, and a younger brother that is 6 years younger than me.  I knew that I was the oldest child, and oldest children tend to feel the center of attention.  I know that when I got home from camp, ready to enlighten my family on how important and relevant all my activities had been over the past two weeks, my family was light years away.  I can’t remember exactly how they told me, to be honest.  I remember coming home and finding out that my sister had been in the hospital.  Which I didn't completely grasp because she LOOKED fine.  But, then the evidence of the hospital visit started to become clear.  There were PRESENTS for her all around.  

That is what I remember, how unfair it felt that she had presents.  Its hard to even write that now.  I don’t remember understanding what “diabetes” meant.  So, while my parents are tactfully trying to navigate through this new world we were now a part of, I didn’t understand what was going on.  

We entered into a new routine, which i know was more gradual than I remember, but I think I lumped about a year of memories into one group.  There was now a “production” that took place all day long.  In the morning there was testing the blood.  So, a little 6 year old now had to wake up and prick her finger.  I don’t even remember what method existed in 1975 for this, but I am sure it sucked.  I am deathly afraid of needles, and to comprehend that my sister had to stand there and “take” it was beyond what I could absorb.  I couldn’t fix it, so I denied it.  I couldn’t “take” her pain, so it was easier to pretend it didn’t exist.  It breaks my heart to say that too.  I wish over and over that there were stories of my strength and relevance as an older sibling to this process.  I wish I had demonstrated compassion instead of jealousy and fear.  Because bottom line, I was so jealous of the Tectonic SHIFT in the dynamics of our family and the object of all of the attention.  I was completely unprepared.

So, it seemed to me that days were now filled with the anticipation of needles.  I was so secretly relieved when the the day did NOT involve my sister having to stick another needle in her body.  I probably loved that outcome more than she did.  But, even then, it occurred to me the irony in this.  While I didn’t want her to have the pain of the needle, I wanted to have the information that a finger prick delivered.  I wanted to know that she was “ok”.  Of course it goes without saying whatever I felt can only be a fraction of what my parents felt, but, they don’t really talk about it, so, I can’t really comment on it.  But since we NEVER TALK about any of this, I guess I never processed it all, I just let it all sit inside my head and create stress and worry!

And, then there was “dinnertime”.  Before dinner, a shot had to be given.  I just remember it was awful.  My sister didn’t want a shot (who would?), and she cried.  My parents, I am sure, didn’t WANT to give their daughter a shot (who would?), but they had to.  And then it would be over.  And It would feel like we had a few hours of normalcy before it all started again.  

For a while, I know that I thought it would come to an end.  That things would go back to the way they were.  I guess that’s the denial phase.  

I worry every single day about my sister.  I feel guilty every single day that I wasn't the one who is diabetic.  I measure everything in life relative to what she endures.   I feel my problems can't 'compete' with her disease.  Honestly, I feel alone.  I have looked for support groups for siblings of type 1 diabetics to no avail.  So, I took to the "blog".    

Maybe there are others out there who'd be willing to share.