Stuck

It's been a few weeks now since I've had to start dealing with gestational diabetes along with RA, pregnancy and autoimmune thyroid disease, but you know what? There's always somebody who's worse off. Unfortunately, it's my next-door neighbor – a little 3-year-old girl named Rebecca.

The day my obstetrician said I'd have to start tracking my glucose levels and meet with a nutritionist to get started on the strict low-carb, low-sugar diet, little Rebecca was in the hospital unbeknownst to me. She had been at a regular check-up with her pediatrician when something clued her doctor in to a possible high glucose level. They tested her blood right there at the pediatrician's office and found her glucose level was in the astonishing range of 400. (Normal is between 80 and 100 or 120 two hours after a meal). Immediately, they sent Rebecca to the hospital.

Sure enough, Rebecca was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, or juvenile diabetes – an autoimmune disease, just like my rheumatoid arthritis and thyroiditis. For the rest of her life, she'll be on medication. She's now suddenly at a high risk of kidney problems, blindness and future amputation. And, like me, she needs to get stuck four or more times a day to have her blood glucose level tested. I don't mind needles and I can handle getting shots or an IV line. I've done it before, and I'm a big girl now. I can handle pain. But after several weeks of testing my blood sugar four times a day, my fingertips are sore. They have little black dots where the blood has clotted recently. The skin is cracking where I've hit the same spot more than once too many times. It's uncomfortable, but I'm 41 and can deal with it.

My first thought, upon Rebecca's return home from the hospital and hearing about her diagnosis was, "How is her mom going to hold her down to prick her tiny fingers or give her a shot of insulin?" But guess what. Rebecca is as big and brave as I am. The second day she was home – after an excrutiatingly long day where she and her parents were educated about her condition and what it would take to manage it – she ran over to my husband and said, "Want to see me test my blood?"

Amazing. Even at three years old, she knew that she has to endure this to take good care of herself. She knows the medicine makes her feel better. And, when her blood sugar is too low, she knows that sometimes she has to have a snack – even if she doesn't want to stop playing to eat it. She's out riding her little bike and running around the yard every day, and her parents are out there doing it with her. Their lives have changed forever, too. Rebecca's mom has changed what she cooks, and they've become stringent about the times that they eat. It's probably been harder on the parents than on Rebecca, as they learn to gauge what foods have the best effect and how much to balance the insulin and food to keep her steady.

They're doing what needs to be done because it's crucially important to take necessary steps – just as anyone dealing with a chronic illness must. The disease, like RA, will never go away, and if good care isn't taken, the toll on health will be great. As I thought about the coincidence between the timing of both Rebecca and I having to deal with diabetes, albeit on greatly different levels, I also thought about the children with RA I met at last year's AJAO conference here in Atlanta. Like children with juvenile diabetes, those with juvenile arthritis often need to endure needles daily. And they do. Like Rebecca, they know it makes them feel better. They know it lets them function better, which means play better or be "normal" at school. They adapt quickly and generally take it in stride.

As my pregnancy winds down, this year's AJAO conference will be gearing up. In two weeks, kids, parents and volunteers will be descending upon Hershey, Pennsylvania (one of the best-smelling towns on Earth!). They'll share their stories, find solace in people like them who can understand what they endure every day, and they'll renew their hope for the future. (Learn more about the AJAO conference by going to www.arthritis.org.) Above all, they'll have fun – and function – thanks to the medications that make them feel better. It's tough work, but it's worth it.

I'll continue to stick myself, watch what I eat closely and make sure I get out and walk and swim. And I'll think of all the courageous kids I've met each time I do.