Hope for a cure

Yesterday was a not so good day. I had stayed up too late watching the Phillies lose on Wednesday night, so I slept in a bit later than normal. This meant that I had fewer hours to work during a very busy week. I was going to make do and I did.

During one of my internet breaks while on campus, I read Kerri's post about a 13-year-old girl with Type 1 Diabetes, in good control and seemingly good health, who did not wake up. I didn't know this girl. I don't know her family. I don't follow the discussion forums that they participated in. I don't really know the writers of the blogs that I read every day who talked about their grief, their frustrations, their hopes, and the lessons they learn from moments like this.

I've accepted the fact that I have this disease. I've taken ownership of my care and work hard every day to do my best. I sometimes think about the eventual outcome, of what this is doing to my body, but I always think about this happening in several decades. Not tonight. Not next week. Not next year. Not in ten years. But who knows what will happen? Dead in bed syndrome is a rarity, not something to fear everyday. But still, this girl and her family have been on my mind.

Yesterday afternoon I had to go to the pharmacy and grocery store to pick up my insulin. I tried to do so last week, but they had to get some sort of authorization from my doctor. Strange, but they said they'd take care of it. I HAD to have my insulin yesterday. My first vial still had some in it, but it was past its 30 day after opening lifespan. When I spoke with the pharmacist, it still hadn't been authorized. They said they had called my doctor and not heard back from them. I stood there as they called again.

I decided to call the doctor myself. For some reason, my insurance company decided that they no longer would pay for Humalog, the brand of insulin that I use. My doctor's office said they had never heard from my pharmacy, and that the authorization would take a few days.

I became very frustrated at this point. I was going to be out of insulin. I didn't even have any backup pens since those are Humalog too. The staff member at my doctor's office said I could come by and pick some up so I wouldn't be out, but I absolutely did not have a spare 45 minutes yesterday to drive there and back home. I'm having eight people over for dinner tonight! My best friend is flying in! There is cooking to do and cleaning to do.

But I didn't have a choice. I have to have insulin. I cannot live without it. Why does my insurance company not care about this?? I am almost convinced my insurance company does not care about keeping me alive.

So I went home, dropped off my groceries. I had to eat something because my blood sugar was a bit lower than I like it to be when I drive. I told Nick about my frustrating experience and about the girl that diabetes took, how it was on my mind, how I was so sad for her family. And then I drove to my doctor's office. I listened to NPR and decided to be grateful for a good doctor's office, how they were reaching out to me and helping me when I needed it.

And I thought about the JDRF Walk on Sunday. I thought about the thousands of people who will be there, each one of them touched by this disease. How so many of them have been dealing with these fears and frustrations. How we are all gathering there, petitioning our friends and family to help fund research for a cure.

I'm not living for a cure. I am not expecting it to be developed in the next five years. I'm hoping that it will happen. I'm hoping and praying that all of us with Type 1 will someday be able to look back at this time, grieve for those lost and for their families, but smile at the fact that this will never take another one of us. I have hope for a cure, and that is exactly what drove me to send out more emails about the Walk this weekend. I may have met my fundraising goal, but my real aim is to find a cure. I choose to live in hope instead of fear. Everyday I will hope.