Reflections on the Gift of Insulin/Life

Not long ago my good friend Shi called asking if I had any extra insulin around the house. I keep a bit of a stock pile out of fear that a bottle could break, or that anarchy could breakout in our society and I wouldn’t be able to get it. (I’m the worst case scenario planner, always.) I never forget reading how after the Japan Quake last year lots of survivors ended up dying because they couldn’t get needed medications. As a kid I watched a movie with two diabetics on a bus that crashed, and one of them was out of insulin and the older man gives his last dose to the younger woman saving her and we watch him die a romantic hero. These memories developed my anxiety about carrying enough insulin.  For once my anxiety was useful, my hoarding insulin allowed me to be a super hero that day sharing life giving fluid she and I can't make.


That night I was discussing the insulin ordeal with my husband, and he was appalled to realize how expensive insulin really is. I’ve been very blessed with sufficient health insurance, and a good job to finance my healthcare needs. Many are not so blessed, and my husband brought up the rather controversial issue of wondering how many Diabetics die due to lack of insulin availability and whose fault is that really? In Seattle, there are organizations that pass out free syringes to help drug users, but resources for free syringes and insulin are very limited. Perhaps if I win the lottery, I will start a foundation supplying insulin to those who can’t afford it.


The other night I was on a diabetes chat site, and discussed with a fellow longtime T1 how depressing it is when you have had this disease for over 30 years and your hopes of a cure have died. He and I both acknowledging we carry a lot of sorrow thinking that we won’t ever get to live disease free. My anonymous chat friend has a very strong faith in Jesus, and he wrote that he longs to go home to his Lord but that his faith also provided him the strength to keep dealing with his day to day drudgery of blood tests, injections and carbohydrate counting.


I processed what my friend was sharing, and I found this conflicting desire to be with the Lord and remain here a little confusing. I guess what remains perplexing to me is this concept that the next world is much better, yet those that profess believing in this still seem to be so afraid of going on to it. My friend did confess that he once stopped giving his insulin being ready to return to the Lord, but that he went back on it because he was convinced this was suicide and would cause him to end up in hell.


This statement about suicide got my angst going. Per my friend’s perspective, I am supposed to believe that God created our bodies, and then allowed malfunctions within them to happen. Then years and years later, after lots of people pass naturally, God enables man to invent medicine and remedies to health afflictions. (What some would consider, playing God.) So after the medicine is available, and you don’t take that medicine then it is suicide and you go to hell. Wow, sick people just don’t get any breaks now do they?


I had to ask my friend would he still call it suicide if a diabetic that couldn’t afford insulin passed away. He told me I shouldn’t think so much with my devil’s advocate mind, and that he would get back to me with an opinion on that one.


Being the weird thinker that I am, I can’t prevent pondering if our planet’s over-population issues are a result of many living longer than was intended in God’s bigger picture? Who knows, certainly not me. I’m going to keep taking my insulin, and counting my carbs and fighting the diabetes induced depression. And when I’m old and have used up every last ounce of fight in me, I will be at peace with leaving this body behind knowing I lived this life to its crazy fullest.