Podcast 56: The Race Is On | Carri Hicks, T1D Parent & OK State Senate Candidate


Oklahoma is thankful to have an upcoming state senate candidate who in not only a second generation educator, but the parent of a child recently diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. In this episode we touch on her son’s diagnosis, insulin affordability & accessibility, and Carri’s day to day life on the campaign trail with three kids. Please note – this is not a political plug, but just an opportunity to have someone in her shoes share life with managing the real world and a child with Type 1 diabetes.

Happy listening everyone, and cheers to the highs and lows! Continue reading

My Diabetes Manifesto

When I Got Diagnosed With Diabetes

My bruised right hand has an IV port continuously putting something called insulin in my body. This is first time in weeks where I haven’t had to take a leak. A nurse just told me that I will be pricking myself and taking shots for the rest of my life – pretty sweet news as a nine year old. My parents look completely distraught, drained by the question, “Is this our fault?” Some diabetes educator hands me a book on how to have courage and count carbohydrates. That’s a cool word but I have no idea what it means. Now my endocrinologist reenters the room asking an important question, “Ryan, now it’s time to test your blood sugar. Would you like to prick yourself or would you like your parents to do it for you?” I look up into the caring, worried eyes of my parents. I gaze down at my hands. I make eye contact with my physician and say, “Give me the damn needle.” Continue reading

Thriller Alarm Clock

Thriller Alarm Clock

I spent 12 days in Children’s Hospital and was lucky to have met a few fellow sick kids.  One in particular humbles me to this day.  John woke up every morning and blasted Thriller on his record player.  I didn’t mind waking up to that song, but God it was early.  John was a permanent resident because his parents abandoned him due to his condition and insane medical bills.  I am not sure how long he had been there, but his room was a bedroom, not a hospital room and the nurses treated him like a son.

I have no idea what was wrong with him, but he was in a wheelchair and had a number of tubes coming out of every part of this body.  I was pissed about the one IV – ridiculous.  I couldn’t help staring at the hole in his neck and he explained at some point in me stalking him that it was the only way he could breath. The tube and the snotty nose were pretty appalling, but it didn’t keep me from visiting him every day. Continue reading