You Could Do More?

"You Can Do So Much More".... my new boss said to me yesterday.

We were talking about work and she asked me what I wanted to do. She is aware of my ability - I used to be a consultant and all that good stuff. She asked me what I would like to do because I could "do so much more".

She didn't mean that I am being lazy and not working. What she meant was that I can climb the corporate ladder - shoot for a higher position and whatever else comes with that.

It is flattering, but I politely declined. I have worked on several projects and throughout those there is always that crazy week or two, or eight, where your life is not your own because others are late, things are chaotic and it is just out of your control because well, stuff happens. I cited this as my reason. And it is not completely untrue. I can do that from time to time, but I do not want every week of my life to resemble this.

What I didn't tell her is that I already am doing more. A lot more. I pull more all nighters than I ever did as a young adult out with my friends. The amount of responsibility that comes with the role of working mom and caretaker for a Type 1 Diabetic is "So Much More".

Crazy presentation to prepare, up all night waiting for others' input. I'd take that over any sick night my child has with diabetes. I promise the night full of vomiting, keytone and hypoglycemia watch, and all else that comes with that is much more challenging than building a business strategy.

In addition to taking care of my son's health, I also have more opportunity to be a mom than if I were in a higher position. Diabetes aside, why would I want to miss his life events because I am over allocated? I am already multi-tasking on several things, so why would I want to carry more? I don't. I'm not sure it is possible - especially if they don't develop time travel or figure out how to make the days longer.

And, while I do not have a lot of free time, I do squeeze in some diabetes advocacy and activities from time to time. Before the "Big D", I was a healthcare manager and consultant. I left that job to focus on my son's health. Yes, irony. With that background, it is very hard for me to sit back and not "do more".

So could I do more? I could probably do with more sleep, but who has time for that when there is so much to be done!

Cirque Du Soleil - Michael Jackson - One Leg and Life Lessons

Tonight I took my son to see the Cirque Du Soleil Michael Jackson show in Dubai.  It was fun, amazing, inspiring, reflective and entertaining.  There were some of the usual acrobatics and other acts we are used to seeing in a Cirque show, but this one was focussed on capturing the essence of Michael Jackson through dancing, his lyrics and music.

The show was very moving in several places and also covered many favorites and did these well. The dancing, choreography and production where fantastic.

What most moved me in this show was a one legged dancer.  I saw him in the opening and I first thought he was a regular dancer using crutches as a prop.  I later realized this was a real one legged dancer.

I did a quick internet search, and learned his name is Jean Sok.  He does not focus on the why or how he lost his leg at the age of 15, nor does he need to.  He is amazing and proved himself in several numbers.  An article says he moved Jackson's choreographer to tears at his audition, and I can see why.  He certainly moved me to tears.

There are a lot of good messages and discussions I expect to have with my son as a result of his curiosity about show - respect for nature, respect for each other, the importance of children and having a dream.  However, if he took away anything from this entertaining evening, I hope that Sok left an impression on him.

This morning I read an article about a woman running for a Senate seat in the US.  She allegedly dropped out of the race because one of her children has been diagnosed with Type-1 diabetes.  A diabetic organization in my Facebook feed asked the question, "What advice would you give her?"

As the parent of a Type 1 child, there are many things I could say.  Many people responded "one day at a time".  There is a lot of truth in that.  It can be extremely overwhelming.

If I were to answer that question now, I would tell her to take her child to see the Cirque Michael Jackson show and look for the one legged dancer.

Sometimes a perceived obstacle is not a road block.  Tell your Type 1 child that this is just one of those things, and even though they are diabetic they can still achieve anything they put their mind to. Never think that you "can't" and never think that your "disease" or condition will get in the way of your dreams.

Jean Sok - you rocked it.

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

Something happened to me about one year ago. Life was unexpectedly put in perspective – I mean really put into perspective.

At the end of August of 2009, my son was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, or Type 1 diabetes. This is not something that runs in our family so to say it was a shock is an understatement. Immediately he was admitted into the hospital because his blood sugar had been high for who knows how long and needed to be corrected immediately before it caused serious damage to his little 20-month old body.

Like any mom in the same situation, I experienced the emotional roller coaster of feelings - upset, angry, wondering if I did something to cause this to happen because it was so unexpected. Since my husband and I both work in healthcare, we immediately called all our contacts in the UAE, Turkey and the US to determine what we could do and where we could find the best treatment. Texas Children’s Hospital was the end result.

Having worked in hospitals and consulted to various healthcare organizations, I always thought that TCH and others like it would be an amazing place. And it was. Such dedicated staff like I have never experienced before. After spending some time abroad I forgot how good healthcare could be. Don’t get me wrong, there are great doctors and good facilities everywhere, but when everyone in the system is at the top of their game and giving so much, it is an incredible experience to receive that kind of service and results in the best healthcare you could possibly receive.

Erin and I stayed in Houston for almost a month – at the advice of the doctor to extend our stay that we naively planned for about a week or 10 days - to ensure I was comfortable enough with what I would need to do to manage Erin’s disease for him. Not that I didn’t understand what needed to be done, but he knew there would be no healthcare providers here to provide the support or follow up required. He was right.

As angry and upset as I was at this disease throughout the experience, there are absolutely no words to describe what you go through when you get in the elevator with your child and you are surrounded by children and their parents who are facing much more challenging conditions.

On the particular day in mind, I entered the elevator and there was a child in a wheelchair that had obviously lost their hair from chemotherapy. Just as the elevator doors were closing, someone pushed the button and another patient entered. This time a boy on a stretcher entered with his mother and his personal nurse. He was connected to a very large medical device. I do not know what the machine was for, but obviously, he also had a very serious illness. I am sure no less serious or difficult than the family to my left who was dealing with cancer.

That was the longest elevator ride in my life. The feeling of being in there comes back to me often. How did I ever get so lucky? How was my son blessed with a disease that was manageable? That enabled him to live a full, normal life? I was numb because for days I was so upset that my child had diabetes. The harsh reality of this was realizing that we had won the lottery.

This did not make me jump for joy by any means. My heart ached for those other parents. I didn’t pity them as I was still coming to terms with my own situation. On the contrary, I was in awe at how they were handling everything under such difficult circumstances. I continued to experience this throughout our visit. The children and the diseases they had, it was all so random.

I returned to Dubai with a lot to learn, but at least with the knowledge to become Erin’s pancreas and manage his diabetes for him until he is old enough to do so himself. I have learned many things from this experience in the last year and on some days feel like a pseudo endocrinologist, nurse, dietician and more. But still, nothing is as profound as the 15 seconds I spent in that elevator that day.

Do not sweat the small stuff people. Every day really is a gift. Think you are having a bad day, or angry about something? Think again, because in the grand scheme of things it is often not as significant as you may think.