When he was released, he came to see me in a play while still in a surgery boot and using a cane. We reconnected and were not apart after this day for more than a few days prior to our being married the next Spring. We had so much hope then for a life together and for his recovery. However, we just didn’t understand how devious this disease is.

Michael, who had been active in martial arts, hunting, motorcycle riding, weightlifting, and many other activities had been in a hospital bed for over three months. He was now walking, but he was limited in putting weight on his foot so many activities were still off-limits. This limit on physical activity further exacerbated his diabetes and health issues.

During the early years, he had multiple other reconstructive surgeries on his foot to try and restore his ability to walk normally and alleviate the constant pain in his foot. Each of these surgeries involved him being non-weight baring or as we liked to call it “couch bound.” This lack of physical activity took a toll, but still we had hope.

During our first year of marriage, we both decided to go back to school. Michael’s foot was healed, and he was so happy. He was still in pain daily, but he was walking and trying to get back to a normal life. He was even going to the gym. Then he had to walk to class one day due to no handicapped parking. That night, his foot was covered in blisters that were bleeding. He had no idea until he took his shoes off. You see, he was always in neuropathic pain but had little actual feeling in his foot due to advanced peripheral artery disease and neuropathy. That was one of the first and most devastating infections. The infection went into his bones, and he had to do IV antibiotics at home. This was the first time of many, which at times required hospitalization for weeks, and ultimately amputations.

I learned to do wound care at home. I changed, cleaned, and monitored his wounds daily and sometimes multiple times a day. If you had asked me if I would be capable of doing those things, I would have told you no way…but Michael needed me. So, I did it. It got to the point where I would send his podiatrist photos of his wounds and he would call me with new instructions or advice to go directly to the ER. If you have even seen an infected wound, or infected wound with osteomyelitis (bone infection) then you know this is not an easy thing to see or smell, but for Michael I’d do anything.

I wish I could say this was the only issue he had to deal with related to diabetes, but it wasn’t. We were dealing with his health but still planning for the future. In 2015, we bought a home. Michael was struggling with his feet, but we had so much hope. Then he had a stroke. It was devastating. He had to learn to speak, walk, and swallow again. Then he had a heart attack. Then, he went into kidney failure and required dialysis. Then, he had another heart attack. We fought to help him overcome; we did everything we could. We believed in the next procedure. We believed in the hope that we had.

By the time I started at ARH, Michael had been on dialysis for over two years, three days a week, had over 30 surgeries/procedures, and had surgery for dialysis ports three times, of which two failed. He still had unhealed wounds, including a failed below-the-knee amputation, which ultimately led to his last hospitalization.

That is the big stuff. However, it is the small things that diabetes takes away that still haunt me. The last year of his life, Michael had little control of his bowels. His neuropathy had affected his ability to detect when he needed to go and his overall digestion. His incontinence was such a huge source of embarrassment for him. Due to his kidney failure and dialysis, he had to restrict his fluid intake. Imagine being constantly thirsty and knowing you could only drink about a liter of fluids daily. Imagine being wheelchair restricted, not able to shower or take a bath for months at a time, not being able to drive or do any of the things you enjoy. Imagine your life being centered around dialysis, diet, fluid intake, medication, pain, and wound care. That was our life for years and yet we hoped.

Our life was, in so many ways, on hold. We held on to hope and tried too hard to find joy. We traveled on weekends, between dialysis treatments. Our last big trip was to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

We did all we could to enjoy our time together, but diabetes was always there, and the damage it did to his whole body ultimately made him too weak to fight any further. He died in the hospice unit on December 29th, 2022. A part of me died with him.

Unfortunately, Michael’s story is not unique or special. This is the case for thousands of individuals every single year. Diabetes affects your whole body and every aspect of your health. It is insidious and truly is a silent killer. I couldn’t see that or the process while Michael was alive. I was just too focused on getting through each day, each procedure, but I see it now, and I refuse to allow diabetes to take me down that path. THAT is why this journey is important and why I want everyone reading this to know that if you have diabetes or are pre-diabetic, you must act now to save your life. I will not allow this disease to take my life or my enjoyment of it.

Today, my life is still on hold. I’m learning to process my new life without Michael. I’m learning to take care of myself and to make better decisions. Most importantly, I’m learning to redefine my hope for the future and what I want my life to be in the future. My life as I have imagined it is over, and this new one is hard in different ways from the old one, but it is still so hard. I miss Michael every day and the life we hoped for. However, I’m so thankful that his suffering is over, and I refuse to repeat what he went through. I hope you will too. To learn more about how to live well with diabetes or to prevent diabetes please contact your primary care provider or visit https://diabetes.org/ or https://www.cdc.gov/diabetes/basics/ and for those in the ARH service area, please visit www.arh.org/diabetes to learn more about our work.

Join me in fighting diabetes and in learning to live well.