I met Laura Burby the beginning of our freshman year at Western New England University and we started dating. As our relationship grew, I learned more about her diabetes, and I learned what to do in certain scary situations. She’s independent when it comes to her diabetes, but it can be a lifesaving measure to be a caretaker when needed.
Laura uses a blood glucose monitor to check her blood sugar at least six times a day—including before meals and in the morning and night. The process requires her to prick her finger, and place the blood on a test strip, which is in the monitor. Then, she finds out if her number is too low, or too high—a perfect number is infrequent. When it’s too high, she gives herself insulin through her insulin pump, attached to her at all times. When it’s too low, she eats carb-packed foods, such as granola bars and juice boxes.
One morning before class, I found Laura completely unresponsive; she could barely sit up. I was terrified and lost—I panicked, forgetting everything I’d ever learned. But the look on her face and the condition she was in sparked a memory, and the first thing that came to my mind was—carbs. I fed her two cereal bars and a juice box, hoping this state would soon pass. When she snapped out of it, I was relieved; the knots in my stomach unwound and I knew she was OK. I knew the seriousness of this disease; it’s frightening. I was afraid I almost lost her.
If you are close to someone with diabetes, you must always be ready for an emergency.
When we were visiting Splish Splash, a water park on Long Island, Laura forgot to take off her insulin pump and she jumped in the water. Later, she realized her pump was malfunctioning because it was submerged in water. This time, I was ready. With her blood sugar rising, and no insulin entering her body, we needed to get home. 45 minutes from her house, I rushed her to the car and sped off, swerving between lanes. I had only one thing on my mind: Get her home as fast as possible. When we arrived, her pump was still broken. She filled a syringe with insulin and immediately injected it into her leg—an alternative to her pump. Again, I got a taste of what she goes through.
Problems like these occur often for Laura. Her overwhelming school schedule sometimes conflicts with her diabetes. To her, academic success is extremely important, but her diabetes problems are inevitable—there’s no escaping them.
She’s a fighter. Everyone struggles in college; for her, it’s about staying on top of her work, while handling her diabetes. Being there for Laura, and helping her in tough situations, reminds me of how precious life is. It’s a daily lesson in appreciating how valuable and fragile life can be.
I’ll always be there to help her, but helping her has never made me feel like a hero. She’s the hero. She’s my hero.
Stephen Romano is a student at Western New England University in Springfield.
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