The Diabetes I Knew

My first experience with diabetes was not my own. It was my Dad's illness. When I was little my Dad needed shots...I didn't know how many or how often. My parents didn't discuss it or make a big deal about it.

I remember my Dad having a foot problem. It started out with a blister on his heel from new shoes. It was more like a hole in the back of his foot. It wouldn't heal. I would help him by getting the Betadine and gauze. I remember the smell.

My Dad loved the lake. He couldn't go in it because of his foot. He got as close to it as he could by sailing and boating. Strong memories overcome me at times while pumping gas...the smell reminds me of the gas tanks on the boat.

At the age in life when I was trying to get as far away from my parents as possible (20) he left first. I came home and was told that Dad passed away at work. In a stairwell. I wonder how long he was there before he was found. Why was he taking the stairs since he was having leg troubles lately? He had been laid up with pains and was in bed for a couple of weeks. Not good for a man that can't sit still. I think he wanted to die at work. He loved what he did.

He was forty-four when he died. He died from a heart attack that was diabetes related. He was diagnosed at age eleven.

I feel guilty that I did not spend the last days, months, years getting to know him better. I was involved in my life and thought he would be around for a while longer. I thought I would have more time with him. I have many questions that I would have asked. What type of investments should I make? What's wrong with the water heater? How was your day?

These were the first thoughts when I was diagnosed. Foot problems, heart attack and early death. I was scared. It has been one year since I was diagnosed. I now realize that there are better ways of controlling diabetes. Better testing. Better medicine. Better...

My husband will be forty-four this year. My daughter will turn eleven. They are not sick but their ages make me remember my dad. Both ends of his disease spectrum.

I miss him.