New Information – I Don’t Know What I Feel

Hello.

Still living in a pandemic world, where I’ve just read that France has recorded more than 10,000 new cases in the last 24 hours. I’m glad I’m in Australia.

My mother died 9 years ago. Ironically she died from pancreatic cancer which, take my word for it, is not a good way to die.

The irony is, of course, that I live with T1D, which is the pancreas misbehaving and not doing something it should, ie. producing insulin. And as I have said in previous posts, I am the only person in the living memory of my blood relatives to have lived with T1D.

I’ve always been curious about that fact. The more often way is for T1D to run in families, even though the scientists and doctors, still haven’t figured out how. But statistically, for me to be the only one in my family is quite abnormal. And I’ve often wondered about that.

Another way that someone can develop T1D, apart from a family connection, is through stress. BTW, a person’s diet, good or bad, has zero, absolutely zero, impact on whether they develop T1D or not.

So stress is known to be a possible contributing factor.

Before she died, my mother had written “a book” about her life and had given me a copy. It has been kept within the family, not published, and being an insensitive male, I didn’t get around to reading it. Recently one of my brothers mentioned it so I chose to, while in pandemic lockdown, finally sit down and read it.

Now I knew that my mother had lived a rather textured life. Lots of things happened over the years that really hadn’t occurred to me to be far outside average. It never really concerned my that we had lived in so many different places as we were growing up, for example, so I’d never given it too much thought. Life goes on, so you get on with life.

However, while reading mum’s book I read a passage that stopped me in my tracks, and I haven’t been able to shake the thoughts away from my head. Apparently many, many years ago, 30 years or more, my mother mentioned to her doctor that she was worried that I may have developed T1D because of things that had happened around us. The doctor of course was careful not to judge, but he also had a duty to tell the truth as best he could. He told my mother that a known possible cause for T1D is stress, be it physical stress OR emotional stress.

My mother had never mentioned that conversation to me.

So now I can’t shake the thought that I have given myself more than 46,000 injections, been at death’s door on numerous occasions, one of them in Saudi Arabia, had my life choices limited and suffered brain damage from one of the knocks on death’s door, all because of things that were done by other people around me that were entirely outside of my control or influence.

I’ll get past this, just as I have the near death experiences. But, I’m not so sure I can be happy about it.

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