Last week, I took the plunge and made an appointment with a doctor. I did this after my brother was diagnosed with diabetes the previous week. And I had felt so...wrong, bad...over the past few months that, on a whim, I took my own blood sugar level. It was 287. I was horrified.
The doctor's appointment confirmed what I already knew, and I'm ok with it. There's a very good chance that I can eventually come off the medication and control the diabetes with diet and exercise. What bothered me is, my daughter was diagnosed the same day I was. That is not ok.
She isn't handling it well, probably because she's confused about what she can and cannot eat. She has had a rough couple of months, and she is afraid because she knows her Grandmother's diabetes contributed to her death.
So for the next while, my new mission is to make sure she - and I - do what we need to do to face this disease head-on and control it.
Maybe I have more purpose, after all.