The People Who Matter
Reading about the beautiful way in which Mira Sorvino supports her father, Paul, you might be reminded of the people in your life from whom you draw strength: friends, colleagues, even strangers performing those random acts of kindness that somehow make our days brighter when we least expect it.
For the most part, though, it's family who bear the brunt of the work. And the worry. One night this winter, when I realized I was having a low blood glucose episode, I fetched one of the orange juice boxes that I keep on the kitchen counter, and started slurping. The next number on my meter was even worse than the first, and my continuous glucose monitor wasn't even registering numbers anymore. It just said LOW. I called out to my husband and asked him to watch me for a while as I drank more juice. He said something about sodas in the fridge—I suppose he was asking whether I wanted one, but all I could manage in reply was, "I'm still a bit confused," and then, "If I pass out, you have to call 911."
Luckily, my husband is a levelheaded fellow. He watched me sip, and even after my symptoms waned, he refused to leave me by myself until the numbers were sufficiently high again. Later, when pressed, he did allow (in his usual understated way) that he had been a bit nervous. Which I might not have guessed: All I remember was his kind and intense gaze, in itself reassuring.
I wish so much that parents of children with diabetes didn't have to watch over them 24-7. I wish that children of parents with diabetes didn't have to wonder whether their own children would grow up with grandparents. And I especially wish that my husband never had to worry about me. But I am so very lucky that he does.