Anyone who's a fan of the sitcom "Scrubs," may already know what WOD stands for. For those who don't know, WOD is what the
character, Carla, calls herself when her husband is diagnosed with diabetes, and
it is short for "Wife of Diabetic." In less than two months, I will be
taking on that title. It's a big title to bear. A lot
comes with the territory.
As a WOD there are many experiences I will have that wives of non-diabetic partners (or D-Spouses) will not. Non-D-spouses will never understand the fear of knowing your partner's life is dependent on the proper functioning of a pocket-sized plastic electronic device, which has been known to glitch out. They will never experience the red hot anger of being told that they cannot get more insulin for 3 days, pending insurance approval, when their husband is all out, with a high BSL. They won't take offense when they hear the word "diabetic" being used as an insult for someone who is overweight, or eating a dessert or fast food. And they will probably not worry too much about the chances of their childrens' pancreases malfunctioning. They won't wonder if their kids will be old enough to manage their sugars on their own when it does, or if diabetes will strike them when they're tiny, vulnerable babies.
In the 2.5 years that Chuck and I have spent developing our relationship, I've learned so much about him and about diabetes. I've learned that I worry a heck of a lot more about Chuck's diabetes than he does. (I come from Clark blood, I'm a natural-born worrier.) I've learned that he knows what he's doing. And, I've learned that I have no control over the inner functionings (or malfunctionings) of his body. He's been type 1 diabetic for more than half of his
young life. He's got it down. But as his wife-to-be I want nothing more than to take care
of him for the rest of my life. In this area, I have to surrender control. This has been the toughest lesson for me.
There are many questions that I still don't know the answers to. And there are many answers I don't want to know. Because, in reality, they don't matter. I love Chuck. Every bit of him, and every bit of baggage that comes with him. And we will continue to cross each bridge we come across, together. Even the scary, rickety, uncertain bridges.
