A Shout-Out to Fathers of Children with Diabetes

Yesterday was Father’s Day, but today I’d like to take the opportunity to give a shout-out to my dad – and all fathers – who care for children, young, fully grown, or any stage in between, with diabetes.

All dads, generally speaking, don’t get enough credit for all that they do for their families. I know that I am fortunate enough to say that growing up, and to this day, my dad (and mom) provided me with everything a child could ask for: a loving home, plenty of food to eat, and endless support, to name a few.

But on top of that, my dad took care (and continues to take care) of both his child and his wife with diabetes. He does everything in his power to make sure that we want for nothing and has dealt with alllllll the highs and lows – and everything in between – over the years.

Thanks for everything!

My dad has always been the “fixer” in the family. When a problem pops up, he just wants a solution to it. So it’s no wonder that he’s felt helpless on the occasions that there’s literally nothing he can do to help with diabetes except wait for the insulin or sugar to kick in (depending on whatever the case may be).

But the other thing you should know about my dad is that he gives everything in his life 110%. Professionally and personally, he never half-asses anything. And I’ve always found that extremely inspiring. He’s a role model for me in that his give-it-your-all attitude and work ethic has taught me to give my diabetes my all. For that, and so much more, I’m thankful.

My dad – just like my mom – is the real MVP. He has done so much for the both of us during this stay-at-home situation, between picking up groceries each week and running all of our errands for us in order to limit our time out of the house. My dad deserves credit, and so do all other T1D dads: You’re doing great. As you help us navigate this new normal, we realize that there’s already so much you do for us. You’re doing your best in these weird times and your loved ones see that and appreciate it more than you could ever know.

Thank you to all the dads out there, but particularly mine: Thank you for helping to keep me grounded during this “challenging time”, and for, well, everything else you’ve done for me in my 27 years (both the non-diabetes things and the diabetes-related things).

Dad Appreciation Post

This post originally appeared on Hugging the Cactus on June 18, 2018. I wanted to republish it today because my dad (and all fathers of T1D children) should be recognized for everything they do for us. I also wanted to give my dad a little extra shout-out, as this is the first Father’s Day that I’m not there to celebrate him in-person.

Father’s Day was yesterday, but as I did the day after Mother’s Day, I want to use today’s blog as an opportunity to express my appreciation for dads: Namely, my own father.

Besides being the family patriarch, my dad is a firefighter/EMT. He makes his family feel safe with his emergency preparedness knowledge and skills. He also deals with his diabetic wife and daughter on an almost-daily basis, which warrants, at the very least, a ginormous golden trophy with his name engraved on it in fancy script.

Hey, Handsome
I’m so grateful for my amazing dad!

That’s because he sees the ugly side of diabetes from time to time. The side that causes blood to spurt out of mom’s abdomen when she removes a pod that struck a vein. The side that causes me to lash out, because my blood sugar won’t seem to come down from a sticky high, no matter what I do. The side that causes mom and I to lose sleep, because we’re treating another middle-of-the-night low blood sugar. The side that forces mom and I to be prepared for any and every possible diabetes scenario that could occur while traveling. The side that causes us to cry, because we just can’t deal with diabetes today.

And he’s there through it all.

He’s there to apply pressure and gauze to the bloody site. He’s there, feeling just as upset as I am, because he just wants my blood sugar levels to come back down, too. He’s there to make sure mom and I have enough glucose tablets or juice to bring our levels back up. He’s there, keeping us calm as we pack for our next trip and taking care of all the travel arrangements. He’s there to comfort us when we need him to, and he hates that we live with diabetes – probably even more than we do.

He’s the kind of guy who says he’d trade his pancreas with us in a heartbeat if it meant we wouldn’t have to live with diabetes anymore.

He’s the kind of guy I’m proud to call my dad.

Thanks, Dad, for helping me handle my diabetes over the years, and supporting every venture (diabetes and otherwise) that I pursue.

Dad Appreciation Post

Father’s Day was yesterday, but as I did the day after Mother’s Day, I want to use today’s blog as an opportunity to express my appreciation for dads: Namely, my own father.

Besides being the family patriarch, my dad is a firefighter/EMT. He makes his family feel safe with his emergency preparedness knowledge and skills. He also deals with his diabetic wife and daughter on an almost-daily basis, which warrants, at the very least, a ginormous golden trophy with his name engraved on it in fancy script.

18DF9F6C-8133-4E60-9EF3-F89103EA0C66
A dad and his daughter.

That’s because he sees the ugly side of diabetes from time to time. The side that causes blood to spurt out of mom’s abdomen when she removes a pod that struck a vein. The side that causes me to lash out, because my blood sugar won’t seem to come down from a sticky high, no matter what I do. The side that causes mom and I to lose sleep, because we’re treating another middle-of-the-night low blood sugar. The side that forces mom and I to be prepared for any and every possible diabetes scenario that could occur while traveling. The side that causes us to cry, because we just can’t deal with diabetes today.

And he’s there through it all.

He’s there to apply pressure and gauze to the bloody site. He’s there, feeling just as upset as I am, because he just wants my blood sugar levels to come back down, too. He’s there to make sure mom and I have enough glucose tablets or juice to bring our levels back up. He’s there, keeping us calm as we pack for our next trip and taking care of all the travel arrangements. He’s there to comfort us when we need him to, and he hates that we live with diabetes – probably even more than we do.

He’s the kind of guy who says he’d trade his pancreas with us in a heartbeat if it meant we wouldn’t have to live with diabetes anymore.

He’s the kind of guy I’m proud to call my dad.

Thanks, Dad, for helping me handle my diabetes over the years, and supporting every venture (diabetes and otherwise) that I pursue.