The Testimony Series: Emily Part 1

I was diagnosed with type one diabetes when I was four years old. 

Usually, when I tell people this for the first time, they're either surprised, or sometimes they let out a small gasp (if they're a parent of small children), or sometimes it finally clicks that I don't keep a pager with me 24/7, but I have an insulin pump (that's my favorite response). 

I don't actually remember much from when I was first diagnosed, so most of the story is from what my parents have told me over the years. However, I do remember being on an elevator at Children's Hospital, which had a pink light in the ceiling, and I remember sitting on an examination table, after receiving what felt like my millionth shot of the day, and asking my dad to please make the pain stop. Because, for all of you dads, and daddy's girls reading, you know that dads are supposed to always be able to make things better, even if it's the worst situation or circumstance. But, no matter how desperately my dad wanted to rescue me, there was nothing that he could do.

I had started getting sick before my fourth birthday. I started wetting the bed, something that I had never done in my life. I refused to eat. I was thirsty all the time. I lost a significant amount of weight. All things that are classic symptoms of type one diabetes. But, if you don't know to look for those things, why would you? My parents thought it was the flu, which made sense because after a little while, all of my symptoms disappeared. 

Now, we know the "symptoms disappearing for a period of time phenomenon" is called the "Honeymoon Phase." This happens when your body gives its last push to make insulin, and eventually ends with full on, undeniable, incurable diabetes. My body pushed for about a month, which brought me to Christmas. I started to get really sick this time, so my parents took me to the doctors. Praise the Lord, my family had just changed insurance companies and had to get a new pediatrician. So, I was seen by Dr. Roos for the first time in my life, and Dr Roos had diabetes too. He know what was wrong with me the moment he heard my symptoms, and that was the end of that. 

Can't we do more tests? My parents begged.

Should we get a second opinions? My parents hoped. 

But Dr. Roos was clear, and he was right. She has diabetes, and there's nothing you can do for her except take her to the hospital right away.

After a year passed from the time I was first diagnosed, I still didn't understand why my parents insisted on giving me shots all the time. They would apologize, they would try to explain it, they would beg me to understand, but no matter what, I didn't understand and I hated diabetes. 

I remember, when I was five, I made the connection between eating and getting a shot. So, I decided to refuse food, or sneak food and hide in places around the house so that my parents wouldn't see me eating. Anything to get away from the shots. But it didn't last long. Eventually, I would get hungry and have to eat, or my mom would find my hiding place - I was never very good at hide and seek.

My parents were, and are, amazing, God fearing people, and through everything, they always pointed me back to Jesus. And when I would cry and scream, why is this happening to me, they would tell me what John 9:1-3 said:

"Now as Jesus passed by, He saw a man who was blind from birth. And His disciples asked Him, saying, 'Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?' Jesus answered, 'Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but that the works of God should be revealed in him" (NKJV).

So, I held onto those words, and I learned how to grow up.

But when I was six, I began to fear that I couldn't do much with my life because of being a diabetic. One day, my church had a missionary that served in Africa come and speak. At the end of his message, he asked if anyone had questions. I raised my hand before my mom could notice, and he called on me. I asked him if I could be a missionary even though I had diabetes. He told me yes, and he said to never let anyone ever tell me otherwise. With God's help, anything was possible for me. I tucked this away in my memory, and forgot about it until my mom reminded me of it when I was preparing to move to Ukraine. 

When I was seven, I remember being afraid to go to sleep for the first time in my life. Not because I thought there were monsters, but because I was convinced that if I fell asleep, I'd have a sugar low and die. But, I was always honest with my parents, and I told them my fears. Again, my parents pointed me to Jesus. Cast all of your burdens on Him. I understood what my parents told me, and believed it, because I had accepted Jesus into my life when I was about six years old. And so, even at the early age of seven, I was learning how to depend on God. 

By the time I was eight years old, I had completely come to terms with my diabetes and was able to give myself my own shots, count carbs, and treat low and high blood sugar levels by myself. And life just kept going. I stopped fighting the idea of diabetes. I accepted it. I didn't feel angry. And, I knew that it wasn't a curse, but something that God could use someday - and if He really wanted to, He could even take it away from me.

More and more time passed, and eventually, I was sixteen years old. And, I had just met this gorgeous eighteen year old named Byron. The first time I met Byron, I was convinced I would marry him someday, and luckily for me, I was right! But for some reason, I was terrified of telling Byron that I had diabetes. Taking care of myself was no big deal to me, but being in a relationship with someone, and knowing that you might marry you, and be forced to take care of you was terrifying to me. 

After knowing Byron for a month, and becoming really close friends, I started to feel pressure to tell him the truth, that I had diabetes. I knew we could never date if I didn't tell him. Never in my life had I ever been so afraid to tell someone that I was a diabetic. So finally, I sent him a text and blurted out, "I just need you to know that I'm a diabetic."

Waiting for him to text back was agonizing. And then, my phone buzzed. And the text read, "Oh really? Cool. I had a diabetic cat one time."

And that was it! Of course, this made me laugh, and I realized that Byron was one of those guys that can make you laugh when you feel like you're going to cry, or you're about to fall apart. And I knew he was the one. We started to date shortly after I told him about my diabetes, and eventually, we got engaged. After being engaged for two weeks, we boarded a plane headed for Ukraine on our first missions' trip together, which started a whole new chapter in our lives. 

And the rest of the story will be posted on Tuesday :)

Blessings,

Emily