I have a very loud, persistent inner monologue. In fact, it almost never shuts off. Lately, it's been causing me to focus my sights on Mattias.
We're only a few days away from his 11th month-aversary. Which means we're just over 1 month away from him being the age that Elise was when she was diagnosed.
Now LOGICALLY, I know that just because Elise has diabetes, it doesn't mean Mattias will. But I also know it doesn't mean he won't.
And LOGICALLY, I know that the chances of him being diagnosed at the exact same age as Elise was, are minuscule. But I also know that it could happen.
So I have a stream of consciousness, an inner monologue that almost reads like a James Joyce novel. It is peppered with "what ifs" and "but maybes".
"Wow, he seems to be nursing for a long time these last few days, what if he's thirsty because of diabetes?"
"But maybe he is just thirsty because it's so hot out."
"Gee, Mattias has been taking long naps this week. He's also seemed so hungry too. What if I should be paying attention to these symptoms?"
"But maybe he's just going through a growth spurt."
"His BG check came up as 89. What if I'm not catching it at the right time?"
"But maybe I am."
"What if Mattias has diabetes?"
"But maybe he won't ever be diagnosed and all this worry is for nothing."
And so on it goes. The "what ifs" keep me dwelling on the negative. Living in fear that any day could be the day.
The "but maybes" scare me too. Could I be rationalizing it too much? Could it cause me to miss something?
I think I've finally come to the realization that I need to dam that stream of consciousness and shut the inner monologue up.
Worrying will change nothing. Who has ever changed anything by worrying? If Mattias is to get diabetes, then no amount of fretting will change that. And besides, if it never comes to pass, how much of my time and energy was wasted on worry?
Because as Doris Day once sang, "que sera, sera."
It's time to stop being afraid of a future that's not mine to see.
I'll let you know how it goes...
13 hours ago