From my friend, Demarco.
Six year old Demarco and his mother, Kate, read this blog from their home in Australia. Kate reads the parts outloud to Demarco that are appropriate (apparently he thinks Siah is pretty darn cute) and sometimes he sends me emails that make me laugh out loud, other times they just about break my heart. Recently, Demarco did his own edition of a "Letter to My Pancreas," that I had to share with you.
Thank you, Kate, for letting me post Demarco's letter. He's an inspiration, my friend, and his letters always make me smile. I'm proud to share him with the readers of Six Until Me. (Hello, Demarco!)
You and I were good friends before my second birthday. You helped me grow from a little tiny baby into a big boy who could walk. My mum had planned a Bob the Builder Cake for the 23 November, my 2nd birthday. For some reason though, every time I thought of that cake I didn’t want it as much as I used to.
On the 1st November, you stopped being my friend. Mum stopped talking about the Bob the Builder cake. I didn’t know I had a pancreas. I didn’t know what you did, or where you lived. I thought you were going to help me grow into a big man.
Now that I am 6, I know what islet cells are, and I know my body destroyed them by accident. It was a pretty big accident though, Pancreas, I looked at a picture on my Mum’s computer. You look like a bean! A trouble-making bean…
I have learnt lots about you now and why you stopped working. Just like when a car runs out of petrol. I have 4 needles a day now to replace the insulin you can’t make anymore. My mum’s eyes looked so sad (even though she is always happy) whenever she had to give me my medicine, so now I have decided to do it myself. What I just wanted to ask was, I know the doctors’ are helping, I know JDRF are working super hard and I know everyone wants a cure. If one day, please, you could just wake up again, and let a couple of islet cells escape, maybe then you will remember what to do and how to work again.
If you can’t do it though, I understand. I know how it feels to be different from the other kids. You must be feeling the same way, living so close to the liver and the stomach. I hope they don’t tease you. One good thing is that, even though you stopped working, I got to go in a plane and see Parliament House and see John Howard! Not many kids without Type 1 Diabetes could say that. I’m not angry I have Type 1 Diabetes, and I’m not angry at you. I am really patient and have learnt how to wait for scientists to help you work again. I want to be a zoo keeper when I grow up. I have heard that Diabetics can go blind after a long time with no cure…if I went blind, I couldn’t feed the lions or they would eat me!
I believe in you, Pancreas.