It’s time for a real cure

Spring is in the air which means its the season to Walk for a Cure which brings with it news paper articles about Type 1 diabetes. The article below sums up how I feel especially during the JDRF Walk for a Cure season.


By Katie RobinsonMay 05 2007 It’s time for a real cure. Twenty years ago – Aug. 23, 1987 – I was diagnosed with juvenile Type 1 diabetes. I didn’t fully understand the disease; I was only nine years old after all. But what I did understand was that my life and my parents lives and my siblings lives from that day forward would never be the same again.


I was forced to omit favoured foods like five-cent candies and chocolate from my diet. I was forced to take needles, sharp scary-looking needles, every single day. And I was forced to endure the constant curiosity and sometimes even disgust at what I was doing.
I did not accept my fate. Every opportunity I had, I rebelled against this disease. I threw my lunches out; “Why should I have to eat carrots when my friends are eating cookies?” I thought. I gave my mom’s plants and couches my insulin injections; “What am I? A pin cushion?” I would say. I used to pass out and go into convulsions. A lot.


I passed out in ditches. I convulsed in my bed during the wee hours of the morning. One time, I even gave myself a concussion after passing out with my head smashing into the corner of a coffee table.


Thankfully, I have come to terms with my disease. I am active. I eat properly. I take my injections. And I can often be heard saying: “It’s better than cancer.”
But is it? This past week I had the opportunity to hang out with 10-year-old Eric Gray, who was diagnosed with juvenile Type one diabetes last year. The memories came flooding back.
On the surface, Eric appears to be a typical 10-year-old kid. He likes to play basketball. He likes to hang out with his friends. He likes to put on the charm with his freckled nose squinching up and his wide-expanding smile showing the deep divids of his dimples.


But when his blood sugars are low, he’s not smiling. When his blood sugars are high, he’s not smiling. When he has to take his breakfast and dinnertime injections, he’s not smiling.
“It sucks,” he said matter of factly. It does. In 12 months, Eric endures over 3,600 finger pokes and 1,000 injections. In 20 years, I have endured over 72,000 finger pokes and 21,000 injections.


I don’t watch movies like Steel Magnolias for fear of nightmares. I constantly worry that my kidneys will one day fail me; my eyesight will one day fade to black; my feet will one day succumb to gangrene.


At 29, I should not be having these fears. And at 10, Eric should not be having to ask his mom: “Will I die?” because diabetes has the word “di” in it.
Over 200,000 Canadians have Type 1 diabetes. Canada has the third highest occurrence rate of Type 1 diabetes in children 14 years or younger in the world. And that rate is consistently rising by three to five per cent every year.


It’s time for a cure, a real cure, because insulin is not a cure. If enough people participate in the June 10 JDRF (Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation) Walk – a walk to cure diabetes – maybe, just maybe, future kids will have that cure.
Katie Robinson is a reporter with the Chilliwack Progress.