three years

Three years

For more than half of his life, Tom has had diabetes. He is only 5 years old.

For more than half of his life, Tom has had his finger pricked 6 times a day, injections: more than I’d like to count and more trips to the doctor than any child should.

For more than half of his life, his body has had marks on his skin from needles and medical tape.

For more than half of his life, his mom and dad have worried that he will wake up in the morning with a medical emergency.

For more than half of his life, his brother has acted like a clown to make Tom laugh when he cries at the thought of another injection.

For more than half of his life, Tom has had to act brave as he fights low and high blood sugars while trying to just be a 3 year old, a four year old, and now, as a five year old.

For more than half of his life, some part of each day, he has felt like shit.

For more than half of his life, family and friends have raised money for research to cure this disease.

For more than half of his life, Tom has been a comic, a joker, a storyteller, an artist, a train conductor, a runner, a chocolate eater, a lover of water and of nature’s beauty.

For more than half of his life, he has had friends that mean the world to him, and to us.

For more than half of his life, he has had a mother who thinks that he is the most interesting person in the world.

For more than half of his life, he has had a father who would lay down his own life for him.

For more than half of his life, he has had a brother that is his compatriot, his sidekick, his protector, his best friend.

For more than half of his life, Tom has had diabetes. He is only 5 years old.

Written by Tom’s mother, Mary Ellen, on Feb. 27, 2007.