Stories By Mabel - Lieke

The testimonial of
Stories By Mabel - Lieke



12:13 - schoolgate. "I am hungry", you yell. I notice your colour drained face. You are angry. Always this angry... 

I do recognize the symptoms, always. I trust your brother will find us, whilst I have you fall onto the front seat of the car - and I ask "where is your pink bag'?" You slam the door open and I follow you to the back of the car. You rip the pink bag you carry with you ALL the time, the bag holding your insulin pens, your scanner, reserve blood test strips, and packs of Dextrose.

I see how you swipe your scanner alongside your arm -  beep beep and yep, there's the proof. Your blood sugar is way way way too low. I tell (yell!) you to take sugar at once. (...) Whilst driving home, your face remains pale. You tell me how you feel nauseous, how anything you try to focus on... spins. My heart aches when I see you tremble. Your brother is silent. Calmly, I ask you to test again. beep beep The sugar you took in made no difference.

Take more honey - and please tell me where this 'hypo' comes from. You explain how you felt bad during class already, how you took Dextrose there and then, but how you did not want to take extra food, as there where kids in the room who do not know you have type 1 diabetes. You feared they would argue "if being ill is about eating biscuits, I'll take your illness". You gambled, by not correcting your blood sugar level.

I bite my tongue and tell myself not to yell (again) but to offer you my understanding. You are eleven and the only thing you want is to not stand out. To not be any different... And so injecting insuline at least five times a day, counting every bloody bite you take and monitoring your blood sugar level is insufficiently ordinary. I ask you to test again. beep beep You are still low, but hey, your cheecks got a hint of colour and you are less angry.  

13:23 - You have eaten. You are fine. "I am tired", you tell me but "I want to go to a friend's birthday party still. It 'll be fun and games, mom and that's good.". I see how you fall onto the front seat of the car, smiling.

13:55 - I drop you off at the party and I cry. Just a little bit because hey, there's worse no? And you are fine, no?

x. Mama.

NOTE : You will hate me for writing this down, you will hate me for making you stand out. But hey, to me you are outstanding. You handle this Diabetes thing every bloody day,  you live this disease everybody has heard off, but too few know for real. So yes, please feel free to yell at me. Cause that's what you heroes do.

Instagram @lieke.andlife – a story about her daughter Rosine, at the time an 11-year-old girl with type 1 diabetes.