Posted at 09:21h in Neaman Plastic Surgery 0 Likes

Submitted By: Tiffany Robbins
Mom: Kristine Robbins, 47

My Mom is a real-life Wonder Woman. She does more in one day than I do in one week, yet nothing slows her down. On top of managing two independent businesses, being a full time mother, and running a household, my mother has been in a twenty-six year battle saving my life. I have been Type I Diabetic for twenty-five years, today, I am twenty-six. Having childhood Diabetes is rough, but my mother was twenty-one, newlywed, with a Diabetic baby.

Mom never complained about my disease. Working from home, with little income, she enrolled me into a smaller, private school. There, she gave me injections multiple times a day, driving over twelve miles each direction. I played sports, was happy and average. At fourteen, life changed. My teens were a dark time, one that I would give anything to replace. Entering high school, I let go of the grip I had on my health. For years I suffered, severely ill. Doctors had no hope for my life. Weekly I was hospitalized, sent home, lethargic, my blood was toxic.

Mom fought to save me. Trying incentives, punishments, psychologists, every specialist she could find. She even held me down, forcing me to manage my disease. I would only rebel more. She went to extreme measures to get help, even traveling roads covered with ice and snow, just to get to the doctor. Often times she would miss work or cancel plans because of me. She has still never said, “It’s your fault.”

After five years of neglect, I started to value my health. Determined, I got my disease under control. Then, at twenty-one, I was told I would go blind. Now healthy, after years of turmoil, damage I had done caught up to me. I had emergency surgery on both eyes, thinking life as I knew it was gone. I just started college, how could this happen? Mom cared for me, doing my injections, helping me just like when I was small, never complaining. At night, she helped to read my textbooks out loud. I don’t know how she continued to help me, manage two businesses, and keep herself together, but she always did. She was always smiling, always positive, pushing me to keep moving forward.

Mom drove me to college every day. Offering lunch money, never saying I was a burden. She picked me up with a smile, sometimes with my favorite coffee. I cried through homework and she would say, “Stop, you can do it.” The next two years brought multiple complications, each one seeming impossible to overcome. “You can do this, you won’t give up, you’re strong, fight.”

Today, I am twenty-six, with my mother’s words, I refuse to quit. I am working, living, managing limitations in the best way possible. I help others. I work with people just like me, using the same techniques my mother did, encouragement and love. My mom kept me alive, I always shad her. No matter what, tired, sick, busy, she put me first. My mom never let me quit.

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