So how could I not ask her to guest post during this moving week, As I venture back to Colorado again?!
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It hurts me, in a way any wife would understand, to see the judgmental looks some people give Husband when they find out he is diabetic. That look that says, “well if you would take better care of yourself this wouldn’t be an issue.” Or the well-meaning but off-base advice telling him how he can cure his disease. He has appointments at the Barbara-Davis Center, a leading facility in diabetes treatment and research, every three months. We are fairly confident we would be informed of any cure.
I write about how most days it is barely a thought and others, like when he was hospitalized for diabetes/hyperthyroid issues, it is all consuming. We are so grateful for modern medicine and how it has made it possible for those diagnosed with diabetes to live long, healthy lives. Of course, we still wish for a cure, but we will take what we can get!
Sometimes as I navigate the insurance companies, hospitals, and doctor’s offices I wonder how I could really only be 24 years old. But then I remember Husband has been dealing with this since he was diagnosed in middle school. Others, like my former boss’ son, will never remember a life without it.
Yet I don’t see the Big D when I look at Husband. He is not defined by it. I rarely notice the insulin pump clipped to his belt. While a lot of time, money, and determination go into treating his diabetes, I only see him. My wonderful, loving, incredible husband who knew I was the one in less than two months of dating and who proposed just short of six months. The man who takes care of me just as I take care of him. The man who knows how lucky we are to have each other.
Diabetes is not always easy on our relationship – any disease brings its fair share of trials to a romantic relationship – but we have learned it can’t define us anymore than it can define him. Love, we have found, is worth it.