July | Fifteenth | 2018
First, I have to say THANK YOU! I was extremely nervous to post my last blog. I had it written for months, and the thought of being vulnerable enough to actually post it completely immobilized me, and now I am not sure why?
I thought I would quickly explain my reasons for finally sharing my story. Aside from Britt constantly asking me, “have you posted it yet?” I had 3 very poignant encounters over a 2-week period that struck me as a very clear message from God telling me, “it’s time.”
You see, I don’t want to make this blog about me; in fact, none of what I am sharing is for me. I came to the realization that I am blessed with certain experiences, and abilities, and with these skills, I have also been presented an opportunity to do more, to help others and to (hopefully) make a difference.
I believe most people who know me, know my favorite thing is to serve others. I realize how that might sound, but whether it’s hosting a baby shower, creating a wedding invitation for a budget conscious bride or spending time with those in need (honestly, I think I get more from the visits than the elderly do) – I love to serve.
That is also my goal for this blog; to serve others who might be suffering and to show that this world can be a better, or even an easier place to live in when we come together as a community to serve one another.
Now let me tell you about my first encounter, and in order to do it justice, I need to paint this picture.
Britt and I had just traveled across the country from Tampa, FL to Las Vegas, Nevada and then drove 2 hours to our favorite place on this earth. Our home away from home, the hottest place on this planet, and the place travel magazines dream of, Lake Havasu City, AZ. Ok, so there is a little sarcasm in that description.
But why does this small(ish) desert lake town, that doesn’t even have a Target, have our hearts?
Simple. It was the first place we bought a home together, it has been our vacation spot for years and most of our family stories start with, “remember that time in Havasu.” Basically, the lake life is in our blood. Which, after my recent encounter while there, makes me feel even more endeared to this desert town.
After finally arriving to our oasis, we decided there was only one stop we wanted to make for dinner. Chico’s Tacos aka The best dang Mexican food on the planet!
As a born and bred SoCal girl, I know good Mexican food, and let me tell you there is nothing better than a shredded chicken taco from Chico’s. Just writing this has me questioning how much an UberEats from AZ to FL would cost?
Probably too much….moving on.
As we walked in to the restaurant, I immediately felt stares coming from what looked to be a large family. These stares were an intense – I am making eye contact with you and not letting go, stare, and I felt uncomfortable. I finally broke eye contact and made my way to the counter to place my order and then followed Britt who (unknowingly) chose a seat right next to the family.
I sat down and started my usual pre-meal procedure of testing my blood sugar with my meter. [A meter is a device that checks blood sugar levels. I simply prick my finger for a little blood to test, and see how much sugar is in my bloodstream.]
As I am about to prick my finger I see a commotion to my right, and I see a woman waving her arms, pointing down and mouthing, “she’s doing it too!” I then realize the stares were because they spotted my CGM [continuous glucose monitor] that I wear on my arm. The woman was pointing to her daughter, a cute red headed girl named Emma, who is also diabetic and checking her blood sugar too.
I, of course, got excited to meet another diabetic and jumped up to talk “shop” with Emma and her family. As we spoke, I noticed that Emma looked upset. I asked her what was wrong and with tears already streaming down her face, she replied, “it’s just so hard.”
As we hugged and with tears of my own, I told her I understood. Even now as I write this, I am crying because I do understand. It’s really, really hard.
What our bodies go through every day, and the sacrifices we have to make is something people, who don’t have a chronic illness, will never understand. I’ve said that to Britt on more than one occasion and I know it pains him. Just as it pained Emma’s own mom, who had tears streaming down her face too. With everyone in tears, I did my best to encourage her to stay strong and to find her reason why. It’s so important, because without that motivation we can slip into complacency.
We parted ways and promised to be pen pals, and I hope to hear from her one day. There is so much more I’d like to say.
A week after meeting Emma, my second encounter occurred. I met Debbie while on vacation in Cabo, Mexico. As I was relaxing and reading my book, my mother-in-law (also named Debbie) recognized Debbie from our hometown of Santa Clarita, CA and struck up a conversation.
Half listening to their conversation, I started hearing certain words that I recognized and realized that Debbie was speaking about her son who had recently passed away. As I listened in, I learned her son had passed from complications with undiagnosed diabetes. Upon her discovery that I am also a diabetic, she wanted to know more about her sons illness.
I was able to give her some insight to what he was experiencing in the months leading up to his death and what his final few minutes on this earth might have been like. Without going into too much more detail, my encounter with Debbie struck me to my core and for several reasons.
First, as I listened to her painful story, I was moved by her love for her son, and how deep the pain she was feeling from his death.
Second, this illness really is life or death. I decided then that I never want to be the reason my loved ones feel that same sorrow.
Third, however small it might’ve been, I was able to bring a minuscule amount of comfort and understanding to Debbie that day.
My third encounter came within minutes of meeting Debbie. I made my way – with Britt – over to the hot tub and while we discussed my previous conversation; a nice, older southern woman, by the name of Helen, interrupted us because she’s also connected to diabetes. She told us that her husband suffers from Type 2 Diabetes and how she is always struggling to help him eat right.
I was shocked to learn that she didn’t understand how pasta, white bread and processed sugar could affect his blood sugar levels. I proceeded to make my own suggestions for correct eating habits and tips to prevent him from becoming insulin dependent and in the sweetest southern accent she asked, “are you a nurse?” I told her no, and that I’ve been diabetic for 10+ years and she responded with, “oh honey, bless your heart you’ve been so helpful. You should consider it.”
We parted ways with Helen, and before she was even out of earshot, Britt turned to me and with a smile on his face and said, “SEE! You’ve had 3 separate encounters in the last 2 weeks that should tell you that you need to keep sharing your story.” That support from Britt continued over the next few weeks, with family and friends weighing in as well, I finally heeded their advice and posted my first honest blog.
So, to Emma, Debbie, and Helen, thank you! You showed me that some of my daily experiences or things that might seem “routine” are actually worth sharing. Partly, to show myself how far I’ve come, but more importantly, to be a resource for those who are just starting out on their T1D journey or might be experiencing a Diabetes Burnout. My hope is to continue to have these encounters, so that this giant world feels a little smaller for those who might be suffering.
xo,
Allie
Fun Fact: Britt took these photos of me while in Cabo, Mexico. Having just had these “Undeniable Encounters,” I decided to take the first step towards feeling empowered to share my story. I will admit that I am much more comfortable behind the camera than in front. ;)
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