Better Teammates

Artist: Brendan Eskridge, 10	Age at diagnosis: 9
Title: T1D Hockey “This is about me wanting to get into the NHL but when T1D hit me, it was like I was getting cross checked. Max Domi inspires me to achieve my NHL goal.”

The following is an excerpt from my upcoming book, Dear Warriors, set for release November 2018. I need your help to make this come true! If you or someone you know has T1D and has some art that could help illustrate this book, please contact me at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com. More info can be found here.  Remember: we're all Warriors- just some of us are specialized Diabetic Warriors. 

Thank you!

Better Teammates

I wrote this book through the lens of an adult Diabetic Warrior (DW) relying on other adult Warriors, Diabetic or not. Through this writing process, and exploring the lives and art of young T1D artists, I was reminded that young DWs rely on their fellow Warriors, too.

I received the above image from a mom whose son was diagnosed with T1D after suffering the teasing of hockey teammates for his excessive water drinking and bathroom breaks. Teasing that switched to support as his reality became clear. Now, the ribbing has become encouragement. The whole team is learning lessons on how to live together and on how to collaborate.

We think that children should not be Warriors, period. We think they should be able to grow and explore unfettered by real pain and hardship. We want their struggles, if any, to be manageable and controlled.

Sometimes, our fears get the best of us. Images form of our babies stumbling through a hostile forest, lost and alone. It terrifies us. While we struggle with these worries, we must remember neither we nor our kids are alone in the woods.

Let's remember what the enemy really is. It's not people. It's things. It's our choices.

We don’t want our children to face struggle, but they do. Along with beauty, life is filled with struggle: walking, learning, growing up and old. Some kids jump from Warrior to Diabetic Warrior within months or even days of their very first breaths. If we go back to our Warrior and forest metaphors, we shouldn’t be surprised that reality is rough for our kids. There’s no magic net protecting the tender sapling in the forest until it reaches a certain size. There’s no safety lock for Warriors in the field that will ensure they get through the barrages that life shoots out, unscathed. There are no guarantees.

But we do have each other.

This boy’s teammates became better teammates because of his diabetes. We can become better teammates to each other- better Warriors to each other- by acknowledging and understanding one another’s strengths and weaknesses. By working together, whether we want to or not. By never taking each other for granted. By commending each other in our successes and lifting each other up in our failures.

How can I be a better teammate? Do I have enough teammates? Do I rely on them as I should?

Patterns

The crazy ups and downs of this spring’s weather have me thinking about patterns. Seasons come and go in a regular sequence. We humans act in fairly repetitive ways, too- especially us with T1D. So, of course I talk about patterns in Dear Warriors. There are some benefits to them. But we need to stop ourselves upon occasion, and ask ourselves if it's time for us to change things up.

Case in point: Is our foot-focus outdated?

People with diabetes know that a foot exam is part of the the checkup process. I was talking with a friend, who is also a doctor, about this recently, after she very graciously agreed to read through my current Dear Warriors manuscript. We discussed the parts of an annual exam and that lead me to this interesting article, How to do a 3-minute diabetic foot exam. I was curious, because my own experience with them, as with my overall 20+ year experience with this condition, has been a range of both scope and detail.

Foot exams are part of the diabetes codex, but why? Do you ever wonder if perhaps we should focus on something else? Or simply remodel what we do, like this article suggests, (supported with data) to get the most bang-for-our-buck? There is much that needs to be changed in our healthcare in the US. Assembly line meetings that last under 15 minutes do not lend themselves to in-depth relationships, for starters. The mad rush seems to skip over things that we know are really important. Instead of lots of time on our feet, how about some serious time on our mental health and how we feel, which affects how we operate? Which leads me to my next point.

We can do more together. This article specifies “patient education” for one of the three minutes involved in their suggested foot exam protocol. As it states, “Even with proper patient education, many patients may be in various stages of coping with this all-consuming, yet frequently asymptomatic condition, which makes the need for repeated patient education even more critical.” Patient education? Let’s think in terms of patient participation, self-advocacy and agency. The psychological element of not simply being a body to be examined is key. Looking at our whole beings and how we relate to others are huge parts of the message behind Dear Warriors. Swinging this whole conversation further into collaboration would be helpful, as I’ll bring up in my next question.

Why aren’t blood sugar tests done once a year on everyone? Perhaps it’s was never considered before, due to relative rates of cases and equipment costs. But what were once logical practices may not make sense today. Testing today is fast and inexpensive. There are still regular occurrences of people with elevated blood sugars going long periods of time with complaints that end up being rooted in glucose levels. Relative rates of this condition are on the rise. In addition, even if results are fine, this test could be used as a positive segue to discussing dietary and exercise practices, which are extremely important health subjects for everyone. The alienation those with diabetes regularly feel might be relieved a bit if everyone dealt with this testing in their own lives.

These were just some thoughts I’ve had recently while working on Dear Warriors. I wish you well, and if you have, or no anyone else who has, any images you’d like to share, please spread the word and email me at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com. More info on my blog entry here.

3 Steps to Bloom

Back in March 2017, I wrote an essay on my blog, Verbostratis, called Finding Ourselves. In it, I wrote that I feel there are 3 keys to becoming our true selves:

1. Figure out where we started
2. Receive some opportunities to face fears, challenge ourselves and try new things
3. Accept who we are and who we’re becoming

The photo I took this morning reminded me of this evolution. Ideally, over our lives, we emerge out of a frozen, older world into a newer, fresh beauty that is our own. What that “self” is, how long it takes, and what it ends up being are unknown at the start.

Now that I’m editing my guided journal for those with T1Ds, Dear Warriors, and speaking with more people with type 1 diabetes, these steps feel more poignant. I felt the need to review them in light of diabetes and this new book. As I’ve begun introducing the premise of Dear Warriors to others and asking for help by collaborating with me in its creation, I’ve heard similar ideas from others who have been dealing with this condition for a while. They speak of learning patience, persistence, acceptance and empathy. There’s a combination of internal and external things we need.

1. Figure out where we started

Family stories and traditions came out as I sketched out Dear Warriors. As I mulled ideas over, it became evident to me that each person alive today is fighting something. We’re all warriors, so my writing evolved to include that. Who were/are our teachers? What tendencies did we have at birth? How have we been trained to behave?

2. Receive some opportunities to face fears, challenge ourselves and try new things

Diabetes is scary. I wrote of changing technologies, exercise routines, family dynamics and schedules that can advance us. I’ve added stories of gifts from fellow T1Ds and medical professionals that move us forward or brighten our days. I’ve also written of ignorance and indifference that have harmed along the way. Of ridiculous stumbling blocks. T1D demands connections with others. In truth, I’ve discovered that all humanity benefits from those same connections- and suffers alongside us if they are too few or too erroneous.

3. Accept who we are and who we’re becoming

I’ve shared instances in Dear Warriors that have been uniquely my style, even if they may seem strange to others. I’ve confessed where I fall short medically and in my own eyes. I describe where I feel I’ve grown since the beginning and what I’m still working on. The very act of writing this book is evidence, in my opinion, that I’m willing to reveal secrets to both myself and others. That’s a huge leap for me. It’s definitely felt painfully honest at times, and humbling at others.

The journey is not over yet. I’m still looking forward to seeing this book populated with more images from other Diabetic Warriors that will help fill in the stories. (Please email me your art for review at dearwarriors2018@gmail.com!) I’m also anticipating after publication: seeing how other T1Ds absorb my essays and others’ art, how they respond to them, and how they turn this work into an even more collaborative effort by adding their own lives and thoughts through the journalling spaces I’m providing.

The sketch I’ve including here was in my original essay in 2017. It’s a drawing I did of the crow-tit, a bird that is the basis of a Korean adage that reminds us to be ourselves and to not try to copy someone else. Being our genuine selves. That’s the greatest gift we can have, and the greatest gift we can share with others.