I have written about having panic disorder a couple of times but I have not told much about being diabetic. Growing up I had never known anyone suffering from this disease. I never thought that it was a serious condition, until I became diabetic four and half years ago. Now I know that diabetes is a real bitch! It can kill you if you do not take care of yourself. I get discouraged by my condition but then I remember my Nanny and the debilitating illness she had, Multiple Sclerosis (MS), and the way she survived the hand Mother Nature had dealt her.
When I was a young girl her illness was quickly escalating. I remember her walking with great effort, using a cane to aid her, using a walker to get around, confined to a wheelchair and finally completely bedridden. Through all of the indignities, my Nanny always had a smile spread across her sweet face. One of my favorite stories she told was when she was working one day and had to leave early. When I asked her the reason she responded, with a hearty giggle, that she has shit herself. She said that it had oozed down her leg to rest in her pantyhose just above her ankle. Then she broke out in laughter just remembering the event. Now, if this had happened to me, I would never have been able to return to my job.
One time we had finished running errands in our town and were returning to her car. She stopped about fifty feet from the car, unable to go any further. She held on to a phone pole and announced that she was about to go down. She slithered down the pole while she exclaimed that she felt just like a wet noodle. She did show some signs of embarrassment when I suggested that I ask our dentist, who had an office one hundred yards from our location, for his assistance. She obviously did not want him to see her in distress; this from a woman who wasn’t embarrassed about messing in her pantyhose. This experience would be recanted many times by her and our family.
No matter how badly she felt or what indignity her disease offered, my Nanny’s coping mechanism was laughter. Today I vow to become more like her by coping with my illness by laughing in its face. Her life, laughter and love shall carry me through the difficult times.
When I was a young girl her illness was quickly escalating. I remember her walking with great effort, using a cane to aid her, using a walker to get around, confined to a wheelchair and finally completely bedridden. Through all of the indignities, my Nanny always had a smile spread across her sweet face. One of my favorite stories she told was when she was working one day and had to leave early. When I asked her the reason she responded, with a hearty giggle, that she has shit herself. She said that it had oozed down her leg to rest in her pantyhose just above her ankle. Then she broke out in laughter just remembering the event. Now, if this had happened to me, I would never have been able to return to my job.
One time we had finished running errands in our town and were returning to her car. She stopped about fifty feet from the car, unable to go any further. She held on to a phone pole and announced that she was about to go down. She slithered down the pole while she exclaimed that she felt just like a wet noodle. She did show some signs of embarrassment when I suggested that I ask our dentist, who had an office one hundred yards from our location, for his assistance. She obviously did not want him to see her in distress; this from a woman who wasn’t embarrassed about messing in her pantyhose. This experience would be recanted many times by her and our family.
No matter how badly she felt or what indignity her disease offered, my Nanny’s coping mechanism was laughter. Today I vow to become more like her by coping with my illness by laughing in its face. Her life, laughter and love shall carry me through the difficult times.
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