Diabetes: parental perspectives

This World Diabetes Day, I wanted to do something a little different. Instead of writing from my own perspective as an adult living with Type 1 diabetes, I asked my parents to look back more than 20 years and share what it was like for them when their 12-year-old son was suddenly diagnosed with a lifelong condition.

When you’re a parent, diabetes doesn’t just happen to your child – it happens to the whole family. There’s shock, guilt, fear, information overload, and a very real worry about the future. The main thing I want other parents and children to take from this is that you are not alone, and that with time, support, and the right team, life can become not just manageable, but meaningful again.

Here is what my mom and dad had to say.

Mom (Rika Kriek)

My youngest child was 12 (almost 13) years old when he was diagnosed with diabetes. It was a huge shock to me as a mother, especially knowing that this is a lifelong illness and he still had so much life ahead of him. My first thoughts were: “What did I do wrong?” and “What should I have done differently?”

The diabetes educators back then made us feel very uneasy. They told us what he could and could not eat (it felt like more “cannot” than “can”), that he would never really be able to be left alone, how he needed to inject and test, etc. I was overwhelmed and did not feel ready to climb this mountain. We didn’t know anyone else who had a child with diabetes, and I felt like I was lost in the desert without a compass.

The first doctor we went to was extremely difficult and would always fight with us about Pierre’s blood sugars. They were always “too high”, and he kept increasing the insulin dose, which led to hypos followed by rebound highs. Eventually, we moved to a different doctor, and that made a world of difference. She had a whole team of people who supported us and made life manageable again. To get another opinion was the best thing we could do at the time.

Long story short, the feeling of drowning got better and eventually went away. I always told my child that he wasn’t “sick” – he was just diabetic. As he got older, the responsibility shifted more to him, and he took such good care of himself that it wasn’t even noticeable. He continued doing sport, got on the bus for tours, and took care of himself.

Today, he is a well-adjusted young man who has lived on his own for many years and has never had any complications or another episode of DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) since his diagnosis. I want to tell other mothers out there that there is light at the end of the tunnel. With the right advice and management, it is absolutely possible to live a seemingly normal life.

Dad (Pierre Kriek Snr)

The initial shock of the diagnosis eventually made space for acceptance. But how do you get there?

The uncertainty that comes with diabetes leaves you with no choice but to find out what it means, what the treatment involves, and how it will change your child’s life. You can choose to feel sorry for yourself, or you can accept it and look toward the future.

I think it was more difficult for my wife to accept, but eventually she made practical adjustments and started moving forward. As a child, Pierre adjusted quickly and learned how to live with his “new body”, and once he understood diabetes, he was able to manage himself very well. Insulin pump therapy was a big game changer in his life, even though it was more primitive back then than it is now.

My child will always have diabetes, but he lives a nearly normal life – or rather, his normal just looks a little different. I wish I could spare him that fate, but it is not in my hands. Many of his strengths and traits actually developed from living with diabetes, and today he is a successful and empathetic doctor partly because of it.

I’m a practical person, yet I still felt completely lost in the beginning. Once I understood the disease and treatment better, it became easier to accept and move forward. I thank our Heavenly Father for His guidance through this.

Closing

Reading my parents’ reflections now, as an adult and as a doctor, I’m struck by how much of our journey was shaped not only by insulin doses and blood sugar readings, but by emotions: fear, grief, stubborn hope, and eventually acceptance. What changed things for us was knowledge, a supportive healthcare team, technology like insulin pumps, and the slow realisation that diabetes is part of life, not the end of it.

If you are a parent standing where my parents once stood – newly diagnosed child, overwhelmed, scared of doing something wrong – please know this: it won’t always feel like this. You are allowed to be frightened and sad, and you are also allowed to ask for help. There are communities, professionals, other parents and adults with diabetes who can walk this road with you.

My parents’ story is proof that a child with diabetes can grow up, play sport, go on tours, live alone, work, and build a full, rich life. If you take only one message from this post, let it be this: there is light at the end of the tunnel, and you don’t have to find it on your own.