All of us D-bloggers, to varying degrees, want to learn more about diabetes and what can be done to keep it in check. We wouldn’t be here in the OC if it was not the case. We take time each day to see what’s cooking online because we are interested in drawing from the experiences of other diabetics, and also to offer our own insights when another of us needs help.

What about those diabetics who aren’t as interested as we are? There exists a portion of “Diabetes Nation” that neglects their health by ignoring this disease through denial, lack of education, insufficient interest, fear of needles and lancets, and many other reasons. These folks often go on to suffer the most hideous, and often preventable, complications as a result of extremely poor control of their sugar.

Do you know of anyone in that group? Are there any diabetic friends or family members who could stand to be a little more careful? Is there anything we can do to help them get on track?

For me, diabetes dots the family tree like acorns. In the 1980s, I helped my grandfather navigate through the Type 2 minefield by going over his meds, reviewing his diet with him and my grandmother, and even going with him to see his doctor. Change was not easy for a meat-and-potatoes-eating man who had smoked Camels all his life, but change he did. And he worked very hard at it. I am positive that he lived much longer than he otherwise would have because of his own extraordinary effort and lots of help from my grandmother.

A great aunt of mine passed away a few years ago. In 1959, she lost a baby boy very near the same time that I was born. It was always in the back of my mind that whenever she looked at me, she was imagining her own lost son. She had no other children, and I know that it was a source of great sadness for her.

She was not in excellent control of her sugar. As her heart disease progressed through the 1990s, her doctors insisted that, given her other health considerations, the window of opportunity for heart surgery was closing rapidly. During one visit to see her in the hospital, I did my best to explain the benefits of surgery, and the consequences of continuing to delay treatment. I pleaded with her to listen to the doctors, to ask them questions, and tell them about her concerns.  After many years of deteriorating health, she finally agreed to have the operation. Sadly, she passed on before it ever came to be.

Today I see a similar situation developing, this time with an aunt who has just begun multiple daily injections, but continues to suffer from less than optimal control. She is funny, strong, and compassionate. She laughs at herself, doesn’t mind being the butt of jokes, and gives as good as she gets. She is dedicated in her work at a home for people with Down’s Syndrome, and no one on the planet has a bigger heart. She has always been close to me and mine, and I don’t want to see her go down the same road into complication hell that so many others have traveled. I know she is afraid of needles, and she must be having a very difficult time with her insulin. She also has trouble with her diet. She is 1500 miles away, and visiting in person with any regularity is not a possibility.

So I am going to call her.

I’ll call her tonight. A few tips, some moral support, and maybe a phone call once a week or so from someone who cares about her good health, might be enough to help her bring those high numbers down a bit.

One call a week. Sometimes that’s all it takes.