I started this blog just over a year and a half ago by writing about Lia’s diagnosis and the challenges, fears and finally acceptance (or not) of living with the perplexity that is type 1 diabetes. I named the blog collectively as I did because that best describes the manner in which her mother and I want Lia to grow: without envy for those who don’t have this disease (a candid reader once pointed out that it could be read the other way: [my paraphrasing] “Without envy, indeed. After hearing about diabetes, who on earth would want it!”).
So, from the very first post to the entry marking our one year anniversary, I wrote — and we lived and breathed — in a way that allowed us to fold diabetes into the framework of our lives, not the other way around. But it has not been easy. Even now, it sometimes feels as if the struggle is all we talk about, with family, with friends, with one another. As if without envy were a premise and nothing more, a lofty achievement abandoned to a dimmer reality. That’s really not how we think about it, but the fact of the matter remains: Diabetes is worrisome, time consuming and often all-encompassing of our attention. It’s only natural that we talk about it, with anyone who will listen.
To be fair, we also talk about diet and food, about health and fitness, about achieving your dreams and living on less, about consumption versus sustainability. In fact, when I took time to think it through, it became apparent to me that the struggles and frustrations we’ve experienced with diabetes could be applied to just about anything. Money. Nurtition. Politics. Social issues. To be sure, the same care management tools for treating a health problem, individually and globally, involves each of these elements and many more, any of which could be, in the right circumstance, disabling.
That’s a roundabout way of saying there is so much more I could write about on Without Envy that I haven’t because of one reason or another, but mostly because writing about diabetes is hard. Way back when I wrote on Six Until Me that I felt “like a pilgrim setting out from our home… hoping to uncover proof that you can take charge of this beast and manage well”, I really had no idea what I was talking about. The word “pilgrim” alone implies someone on a journey toward some end. There is no end to diabetes. It is here and will be here for a very long while.
Which is why, beginning in September, I’ll write posts that seek to redefine the message and tagline of Without Envy: Raising a child with type 1 diabetes to live life to the fullest to include, and other things that make us happy.
More content. More frequency. More… (or is it, less) envy.
I hope you will join me.