We all have certain moments in our childhood that stand out more than others.
I was 12 and my dad had broken his leg and was laid up for the first time in his life. His sister and their kids came to stay with us to help out. My little cousin was quite some years younger than me and easily impressionable. My dad caught me with some kind of sweets that I shouldn’t have. The typical routine when this happened was he would have me get a pin from my mom’s sewing table then, ever so lightly, he would take my arm and poke me with it. He did the same thing this time and my little cousin ran out of the room screaming.
You may be thinking to yourself that my dad was a bit cuckoo. He knew something I didn’t. He knew that diabetes ran in our family and that my propensity towards sweets was not going to help me out in this respect in ANY way. This routine of ours was his way of trying to impress in my mind that if I didn’t watch myself, I could very well end up with diabetes.
Sadly, I didn’t take his advice. My dad ended up with diabetes but that wasn’t until late in his life when many people with the disease in their family history get it even when they are careful. I, however, have been told that I have PRE Diabetes at the tender age of 28. I had this bombshell dropped on me in the form of an impersonal letter from my doctor’s office Saturday night after returning from a pleasant day out with the family.
Sixteen years ago, I ran out of the room looking for my small scared cousin to comfort her and dry her tears. Last night it was my husband’s turn to do the same for me.