Empathy

A personal and close encounter with empathy.

Today, I did my Motorcycle Skills Test in ICBC. A test that shows you can handle a bike, and if passed, removes certain restrictions from the learners license.

All went well, passed with flying colors and no negative marks on the test. I was given a piece of paper by my tester and asked to step inside so they can give me a new learners license without the restrictions.

At the till, I was greeted by a nice blond middle aged woman. After telling her the purpose of my visit, she asked me to hand my previous license and the test score card. With that info, the lady started to ask me routine questions. “What is your mother’s maiden name?”, “Are you still living in Bishop?”, “Do you have a license outside B.C.?”, “Do you have any medical conditions?”.

It was all going OK until that last question. I answered “Yes, Diabetes.”. Immediately, I felt a different vibe from the lady. She opened up, I felt like she knew me. It was surreal. I couldn’t understand why that happened, until she asked, “How old were you?”. She has gone through this. She knows. “Actually, it was just last year that I got diagnosed.” I answered.

Her initial reaction was a surprise. She knew I did not have Type 2 diabetes. My guess is, she either had the info on her screen (I had to do some medical tests prior to get my license extension), or just guessed based on her experience.

She proceeded to tell me her kid was diagnosed at 18 months old. 18 months. I can’t imagine the feeling being a parent and having your kid diagnosed at any age. My empathy levels sky rocketed. That strong connection was now going both ways. I felt a deep sense of empathy. I said “How was it? It must have been tough when she was younger.” Although her face said it all, she responded “It was brutal. Especially when she couldn’t talk and tell me she was having a low. I had to wake up twice per night to check her levels.” This disease. Her kid is now in her early 20s, she mentioned. She’s doing well, and I’m glad.

Although some might feel I’m unlucky that I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes last year, I feel lucky.

First, if I was living 101 years ago, literally, 101, I would most probably be dead by now. Insulin was not available until 1921, which was trialed and tested until 1923.

Second, tech nowadays allow me to check my levels without finger pricks. I just have a device attached to the back of my arm that tells me my levels every 5 mins, with the added bonus that my wife can also see those numbers and get alerts in emergencies. This lovely lady needed to wake up, finger prick her toddler, twice per night. I can’t imagine the times per day she would do that.

And third, I can’t imagine living with this disease as a child, and I admire everyone who has done it from a young age. For context, the peak age for being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes is between 13 and 14 years old, but people can be diagnosed when they are much younger, such as this lady’s kid. I was diagnosed at age 31, which is very late compared to the average. Imagine questioning when you’re a child, why your classmates can have a lollipop but you can’t. I feel lucky that I had a normal childhood, and that my parents did not have to pull their hair out trying to figure my blood glucose levels 24/7 during my youth.

What type of world would we live in if we had a fraction of the empathy I experienced today? We knew that both of us were going through something tough. Aren’t we all? Saying “I understand what you’re going through” is always false, every head, every person is different. But that does not mean that you can’t feel empathy. It does not mean “treat them specially”. It means treat them as a human.