I’ve neglected this blog for far too long.  It may give the impression that perhaps my daughter’s Type 1 has been cured or she is no longer a part of the family or it doesn’t affect us that much anymore.

HA HA HA

No, I just stopped for a number of other reasons that were completely unrelated to this particular topic but pretty much drained all ambition from my soul at the time. How badly drained, I hear you ask. Well, it’s taken me a few years to get back on the horse and have the energy to devote to this.

So, I don’t know how many posts or how often but our family still has diabetes, we’d still rather have a puppy and there have been a lot of things happening on the whole pancreatic front that deserve attention.

See you soon.

Megan Briere and Tory Bernays, the Vancouver Island 2008 JDRF Youth Ambassadors, are comfortable talking about their experiences of diabetes. Tory, diagnosed when he was 2, doesn’t remember a life without needles. “I always forget my memories”, he says, shrugging off those 6 out of his 8 years life spent waking up in the middle of the night for a finger poke and sometimes a snack.

Talking to the parents of these remarkable young people, it becomes obvious having a child who has Type 1 diabetes actually means being a family with Type 1 diabetes. Everyone from siblings to grandparents, aunts & uncles are educated about blood sugars, insulin, injections and finger pokes.

When 8 1/2 year old Megan has friends over, her mom, Sandra, makes sure they know the signs of low blood sugar.  They know if Megan goes pale, starts to shake, starts crying for no reason or become unresponsive to direct questions, it’s time to get mom because Megan needs sugar. Teachers, other school personnel and after school care givers are all drafted into the support network but even then, as Sandra says, “you can’t relax, you’re always thinking about it…”

Enlisting family and friends means more help fighting outdated ideas and myths about Type 1 diabetes. “Some people just don’t get it”, Sandra says. Tory’s dad, Dave, gets frustrated at being asked if Tory ate too much sugar – “like we were giving ‘Oh Henry’ bars to a 2 year old.”

What they can never convey is how the world turned over the moment they heard the diagnosis for their child: the flood of emotions, all the questions, the doubts, the mountain of information that had to be climbed and a cold certainty life will never be the same.

It was on a holiday, Sandra remembers, that she suspected her 7 year old daughter had a bladder infection. She didn’t really think much of the lack of appetite until Megan began vomiting and suddenly dropped several pounds.  Sandra knew “something was just not right.”

The hospital at 100 Mile House put Megan on an emergency flight to Victoria where a helicopter completed the desperate run to Victoria General Hospital.

Liz Bernays knew there was something wrong with Tory when the active 2 year old became increasingly lethargic and not interested in eating. She took him to the hospital and was sent home with a popsicle. She returned a few hours later frantic because Tory was now unconsciousness and unresponsive.

The Brieres and the Bernays, would gladly stick the needles into their own arms instead of watching their child go through the pain several times a day. Insulin may be what keeps their child alive but it isn’t a cure. The problem is research for the cure costs money – a lot of money. Sandra talks about penny drives and jean days at work, Liz of seeking contributions from friends and family while both Rick and Dave do whatever they can at their work sites to generate funds for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. If it sounds like something from the homefront during WWII, that’s not far wrong; as far as these families are concerned it is the fight of their lives.

The bottom line is that diabetes won’t keep Megan and Tory from playing soccer or lacrosse, from finding their dreams of being an artist or playing for the Shamrocks but it certainly isn’t part of the future they’re planning.