Another Diabetic Anniversery



Brandi and me shortly after her diabetes diagnoses was made.



 I really wanted to write a touching blog about the 8th anniversary of my daughter's diagnoses with Type 1 Diabetes. 

My first draft was too raw, too angry.

My second draft read like a textbook history lesson

My third draft was basically about all the wonderful friends we've met due to her diabetes.

None of them felt right, felt complete... so here's what I really wanted to say....

1. Diabetes sucks...it is an evil, horrible, unforgiving disease that is doing its best to kill my daughter.
2. We need a cure today...this minute...this second...before it kills another person.
3. As much as I love all the friends we have met in the diabetic community, as close as we have become, as much support as we've given each other, I would give up every single one of those relationships if it meant my child would live one day...one hour longer.  As much as I love my friends, I love my daughter more.

I wish I could give Brandi my pancreas, I wish I could take her diabetes as my own and let her have a normal life. I would gladly face death if it meant my daughter would live and I know every single D-parent feels the same way. But I can't...and my friends can't...so we retain this helpless feeling every day of our lives.

I'm training to participate in the Ride to Cure Diabetes on August 17th,  a 100 mile bike ride to raise money for diabetes research...research that could save the lives of my daughter and my friend's children. I'm old and I'm fat, and I'm about as out of shape as a person can be, but I'm working my ass off so I'll be able to ride the entire hundred miles.

For me this ride is personal. I NEED to do this ride for Brandi, for me, for my father, my brothers, and friends. For every person this stinking disease has touched and every person it will ever touch. For every parent who has lost their child and every child who has lost their parent.

It's a way I can physically fight back. Every muscle ache, every drop of sweat makes me stronger, and when I'm training and my legs are burning and shaking I'm not sitting on the bike saying, "You can do this, " what I'm muttering with every panting breath is, "Fuck you diabetes, you can't have her."

I'm scared. This is one of the hardest things I've ever done and I'm afraid I won't be able to complete it, but as scared as I am it pales in comparison to the fear I have that I'll lose my daughter, that one of my friends will lose their child. So I happily embrace the upcoming months of training, pain and frustration because I will do anything to save our children's lives.

Who knows...maybe...just maybe..one of the dollars I raise will be the dollar that funds the research that finds the cure.