Do only beautiful people get Type 1?

And today’s question is: How come only cute kids and fabulous adults get diabetes? I’m only kind of half kidding. I think it every time I read a goggle alert about another PWD doing another amazing fundraiser or advocacy event. I take note of it every time I read one of the fab blogs by adults with Type 1. Seriously: should the study into the cause of Type 1 look at this?

Or perhaps better said: Which comes first, the incredible person or the diabetes?

My daughter and two of her favorite fellow young adults with Type 1. Beautiful, smart and determined; each and every one.

It was a question that had clearly been on my daughter’s mind for quite a while. She was almost afraid when she asked it of me:

“Do you think I’d be an accomplished person if I didn’t have diabetes?”

She asked me this last spring, shortly after we sent in the deposit to her number one choice college and shortly before she led her class in graduation at the Student Council President.

Because, you see, my daughter’s made pretty good use of her life to date. She’s been a leader, a speaker, a volunteer and a helper – like so many other kids (and adults) I know with diabetes. (That’s her in the phone at the top of the blog site, speaking at a JDRF gala).  So, is it because of diabetes these kids rise up?

I think: no. But at times I have to wonder: Don’t the biggest challenges in life lead many of us to our greatest accomplishments?

Look, I’m pretty sure my daughter showed signs of mold breaking at a pretty young age. When she was just three (before diabetes), we use to take daily walks through the downtown area of our historic town. My daughter, pushing her white wicker doll stroller, was not content to just walk along and smile. No, she has to chat up every storeowner we passed.

“Hey Joe, how’s Susan doing? Tell her I say get well!” “Steve! How’s business? I love your store!” “Good luck with the big sale!” She cracked me up. I think everyone in town knew her name before she hit four. But come on: Everyone feels that way about their kid.

But I think there really is something about kids who have to face adversity. Look, if you basically have to “check yourself into a medical appointment” at least four or five times a day (and on some days way more often), you are going to – at a very young age – learn what matters and what doesn’t. And from that, I suspect, comes a kind of worldliness and almost profound understanding of life that just guides a person to doing great things.

I saw it in my daughter and her d-friends when they were younger. If they heard of another kid being dx’ed they did not whine about missing playtime to help deliver a Bag of Hope or just reaching out to help. It was simply part of their make up. And as teens, I think they didn’t play the “mean teen” game as much. My daughter had an interesting ability to put things in perspective (one that even at this age I struggle with). If someone was mean or inappropriate, she’d kind of brush it off and say something like “I’m sure she has some other thing bothering her and she’s just acting out,” or, “Haters are gonna hate.” She’s even had to remind me of that sometimes. I found it remarkable. And I had to wonder about it. When she was younger, she had a whole bunch of ER visits (16 to be exact) that involved overnight stays. She had a thing with stomach bugs. If anyone even drove by our house with one, she caught it. And then she’d get really sick and really low with really large ketones. The only solution at that time (thank goodness she’s grown out of it. And note to D-Gods: I did NOT just say that) was an IV and the only place to get an IV was the ER. (Although one fun memory of d life was the time I suggested to my daughter that I learn how to do an IV at home. She looked at me with horror and said, “You are never giving me an IV, Mom!” Ah, memories). In any case, I figured out early on we had to not make these hospital trips a big deal. There should be not flowers sent or people freaking out or me crying. It had to just seem like “not that big of a deal” So, if a child learns to handle that kind of emergency with aplomb, does it transfer over to the rest of life?

I saw it when my daughter was lucky enough to be a finalist in the Prudential Spirit of Community Awards. We travelled to DC for a week of events (including leadership workshops) with all the kids. There were teens and young adults who had build orphanages in Peru. Who had helped expose child slavery in the US (yes, it exists). Who had started beauty pageants for young people with special needs. And the thing that blew me away was this: every last one of them was truly brilliant and truly beautiful. And almost every one of them had a personal story behind it. (One had been a slave, one an orphan. One had a cousin with special needs. And so on). Remarkable.

I’ve been lucky enough to meet a lot of adults with Type 1 through volunteering and advocacy. They are the type I tend to become friends with fast. They’re unabashed and funny. They know how to use irony to make any moment work better. And if you ask them to do something, gosh darn it they do it. And they do it with planning, order and precision. Again, I have to wonder: which came first, the incredible work ethic and orderliness or the diabetes.

My answer to my daughter was quick. “No,” I said. “You were born to be the leader you are. Being in the diabetes world may have helped you find it sooner, but it was coming. It’s there, period.” And yet, one has to wonder if diabetes has amplified it all a bit even if it was still there.

So, what do you think? Does diabetes bring something amazing to your child, loved ones or friend’s way of being? Do you, the person with diabetes, sometimes notice habits or ways of life you have and wonder if diabetes helped bring that along?

As for the cuteness and beauty factor: for that I don’t need a study. Yep. Only absolutely beautiful people get diabetes.

Right?

4 thoughts on “Do only beautiful people get Type 1?

  1. My son is 9 he was 3 when diagnosed.. he is the bravest little boy i know. he has his moments when he will sit and cry cause he dont want it. but he is the first to tell some one that it dont make him any diffrent from any one else.

  2. I’ve often wondered this same thing. I’ve dealt with type 1 for more than 25 years now, and I do think it required me to be smarter, more organized, incredibly in tune with my body, and better able to deal with disappointment. There is no way I can control this thing perfectly — but I have to try the best I can, listen to my body, and not get upset when things don’t go my way. I would be a different person without diabetes.

  3. i love that you wrote this…. I always borrow that line from you…and of course give you full credit!

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