47 Comments

This is my new favorite thing you've written. Such heart. Thank you.

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Empathy leads to acts of kindness 🤗

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That's so very kind, Mark. Thank you. :D

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This is so lovely. I’m so glad you were able to share a moment with that little girl, and you probably made her life that much easier, in one sweet moment.

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Awww, thanks, Alison! :D

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This was so lovely. My partner was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes last year in his 40s and I have been surprised by how little understanding there is about diabetes in the general population. I'm so glad you had such supportive parents as a child adjusting to this enormous change and I'm certain that little girl in the purple trousers felt much less alone in that moment you shared with her. What a gift.

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Such lovely words, Cayly - thank you! I remember that the first post of yours I read was one in which you wrote about your husband's diagnosis - I hit your 'Subscribe Now!' button immediately! You're right about the lack of understanding of diabetes out there. What shocks me the most about that, though, is that everybody THINKS they know about diabetes. I expect your husband has already been at the receiving end of plenty of ill-advised yet well-intentioned advice, right?!

I hope he's doing okay. It must have been an enormous life change to adjust to as an adult. So far I've had 36 years of practice, and it's second nature to me now. But goodness me - and I apologise for the British English vernacular - it's bloody hard work!

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Oh Rebecca, this is your best yet. Several of the sentences and several of the paragraphs are just so beautifully constructed that I’d like the piece just for those, but you really brought the whole thing round so nicely. Terrific!

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Tom, that's so kind - thank you! I think I enjoyed writing it the most so far, actually. The subject matter that's the most familiar gets to hit the hardest! :D

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Brought a tear to my eye.

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Awwww, Matt! :D

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I got slightly choked up myself. Did untold damage to my tough guy image: thanks, Rebecca!

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Awww, thanks so much, Terry! And LOL - you're still a tough guy! :D :D :D

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LOL

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Absolutely loved this post. Thank you.

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Thank you, Mark! :D

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This was such a lovely post. Thank you! It made me think about how while there are a lot of advantages to having an invisible disability (lack of discrimination and so forth), there are also a lot of disadvantages -- mainly a lack of public awareness.

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Thank you so much, Jillian! You're so right - but your comment has really made me think! With an invisible disability it's perhaps the fact that it IS invisible that can sometimes make it all the more difficult. You know, dealing with the things that need dealing with around diabetes (hypos, hypers, or needing to eat in circumstances where eating isn't the thing that everyone around you is doing right now, etc) without having to explain. That said, I don't want to wear a big badge announcing it all either - LOL!

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How deeply you touched me. As I think you may know, my sister was diagnosed with Type 1 Juvenile Diabetes when she was 12 and I was six. I watched go through what you describe, but much longer ago without the science and technology available to you. But the sense of "different" had not changed, and you express that dilemma so beautifully. Kudos, Rebecca. xo Mary

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Oh, Mary! Thank you. It was very different in the years before my diagnosis in 1986. I count myself lucky in very many ways. :D

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This was beautiful. Thank you Rebecca.

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Thank you, Julie - really kind of you. :D

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I love that sort of subtle, understated human connection. Perhaps not quite the same, but a few years ago I visited a school to do some research. Amongst the group of students I interviewed was a sixth form class. On my way out of the school, I caught the eye of one of the (male) students from that group. We looked at each other, and each of us gave the briefest of nods. No smiles -- far too demonstrative -- and certainly not winking or blinking! But a brief and meaningful human interaction nevertheless, and one in which he, the student, and I the visiting teacher, were equal, at least for that fleeting moment.

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Thanks, Terry! Those moments count for a lot, don't they? Such connections are great: to suddenly discover a mutual understanding with someone about something can be very special. :D

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indeed

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What a gift you gave that student! I was diagnosed with kidney disease when I was 12, and I understand completely that desire for someone besides your parents to know what you’re going through. I had to take high doses of steroids daily and looked like an inflated balloon in middle school. I’m sure you can imagine how awful that was.

I remember going to Tulane in New Orleans for a biopsy and spending a couple of days in the children’s wing there. It was awesome! I felt so NORMAL with all the other kids--one had diabetes, but I don’t recall what the others were battling. But we raced from room to room up and down the halls of the hospital visiting each other and finding such comfort knowing that we weren’t alone.

This piece was wonderfully written. You are a gem.

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Oh gosh, Holly - that must have been really difficult - being 12 is hard enough in itself without that kind of illness going on. I'm so pleased though that you found your tribe for those couple of days - albeit in a hospital setting - there's such power in going through something with people who really GET it, isn't there? That feeling of being the only one going through something is horrid.

I remember going on a diabetic association kids' holiday when I was 12, still very new to it all - and as soon as I arrived it felt really really odd NOT to have to explain blood sugar tests and injections and snacks and hypos to literally ANYONE else there because they all knew all about it already!

Thank you so much for your lovely words - they mean such a lot! :D

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Safety in numbers; I'm sure the youngster felt courage and comfort from that thoughtful exchange!

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Awww, I hope so too - I certainly did! :D

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Really beautiful piece. Thank you for sharing.

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That’s so kind - thanks, Jacquie! :D

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Wow!!!! This is the best post of yours that I have been privileged to read. Here you are sharing your heart and your pain from your childhood all the while telling a damn good story so well that I lived it with you. Thank you for having the courage to share so openly and sweetly in a way that those of us who did not really understand about diabetes now totally get it. A great title, enigmatic and intriguing, which you tie up so well in your story....

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That's ever so kind of you - thank you for such lovely words. I'm so glad you've got something from it! :D :D :D

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I will look forward to more stories from you that touch my heart and bring sweet tears to my eyes...

We all struggle to believe in and have a love relationship with ourselves...

I encourage you to always remember how precious and lovely you are...that you have a gift the world needs you to share...and believe in the beauty of your dreams....

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This is beautiful, Rebecca. I echo Mark’s comment, as this, too, is my favourite piece you’ve written.

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Thank you so much, Bryn! :D

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