Seven Years Later

It's 2:45 in the morning on August 22, 2013 and I can't sleep. I'm tired but not in the way that I remember tired feeling seven years ago. Seven years ago when I felt tired, I'd shut my eyes and go to sleep, the process felt natural and without repercussion. Seven years later, I forget what it's like to feel refreshed. I sleep when I'm able and stay awake when it's necessary. Tonight I'm up fighting with a few spoonfuls of a bedtime snack that seems to want to keep Arden's BG at 250. 

I checked Facebook, perused Twitter, read your blog comments, made notes for myself so I won't forget to do some important things tomorrow and so now I'm downstairs writing to all of you. It's 2:52 now and in a few minutes Arden will have type I diabetes for seven years.

I remember the emergency room doctor coming into the room, he looked tired and he didn't make eye contact immediately upon entering. I knew he was going to tell us something terrible, I could feel it. Kelly and I sat next to each other in a palatable pool of sadness, waiting for him to confirm what we already feared was true.

The next two years were among the worst that I've ever experienced, but today, seven years later, I'm mostly okay and Arden is great!

It's exactly 3 AM now, the clock turned while I was looking for a passage from my book to share with you. I looked up and saw the time move forward when I heard, and I can't believe this just happened, when I heard Arden's DexCom beep twice at exactly 3 AM. That seemed like a sign until I realized that thing beeps all damn day... Anyway, I could search my mind all night for the right words to explain what I've learned in the last seven years, but I think I already found them when I wrote my book...

People can make claims about how to navigate personal turmoil, and there is a literal ton of books to help you get through life’s terrible moments. I only have one piece of advice, and I can lend it to you with the full knowledge that it served me well.

Don’t stop and don’t give up.

Some days will bring the weight of the world to you—don’t stop. There will be times that those days turn into weeks—don’t give up. There is a wonderment of understanding on the other side of your struggle, and it’s worth getting to. These days and weeks that seem as though they exist only to torture you and the people that you love—they teach. The pain strengthens you and the dings in your soul aren’t as deteriorating as they initially seem. In the end, they are reshaping it, and it’s up to you to decide what shape it will take.

I am contractually obligated to say that excerpts from 'Life Is Short, Laundry Is Eternal' were used with the permission of Spry Publishing. Actually, I'm supposed to ask them before I use the text but they're a good bunch and I'm betting that this would be okay. 

Comments

[Dolores]

Nicely written ... And so true

Hope Arden's numbers are better today! And you can get some rest ...

[Scott Benner]

Thank you Dolores!

[Michelle Nelson]

Scott,

Your words of wisdom always keep me positive and moving towards the main goal. Low A1C. Which is no easy task!!! Thank you for sharing.

[Scott Benner]

Thanks for making my day Michelle!

[Kristen Wilson]

Thank you thank you thank you! Your blog inspires me I can't wait to read your book. We're just out of our first year with our 8year old daughter being diagnosed. I got a tattoo that helps me it says."everyday is a new day." I think all type1 parents can understand what that means.

[Scott Benner]

Kristen - I'm inspired by all of you! Thank you for the kind words and I hope that you enjoy Life Is Short, please let me know.

Best,
Scott