Very few people have the blessing of knowing a person who comes into their lives for what seems only a short time, yet changes them forever.  The kind of person who touches every single part of us emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually and leaves us transformed for the better.  Others call these special people by certain names;  we call our special someone - Cathy.  She is our sister, our daughter, and is undoubtedly one of these remarkable, life-changing people who have forever reshaped our lives and enlarged our hearts.

In 1984, Cathy was five years old when she was diagnosed with Type I diabetes.  From kindergarten on, it was challenging to be a "regular kid" yet, forego many sweets at elementary school celebrations, birthday parties and holidays.  Beyond this, another challenge for a young child was the pain of multiple finger pricks and blood checks during the day, and the initial one, and later two or more, daily insulin shots required.  In spite of these trials, Cathy continued to develop a caring, funny, determined and loving personality.

As Cathy grew, she became a strong student, a talented athlete and a well-liked friend.  Although she had to be rushed to the hospital several times a year after frighteningly low sugars, Cathy hid her pain and suffering from almost everyone.  At the same time, diabetes began to battle within her body.  On some terrifying occasions, Cathy went into insulin shock in the middle of the night.  The paramedics would arrive, try to stabilize her and take her to the emergency room for further treatment.  We remember one incident in which our father called us from the hospital and through his sobs, told us that Cathy was alright.  It wasn't until years later that we learned that Cathy had almost died in the ER that night.

Cathy was thrilled to begin college at Loyola University in Chicago, IL, 1998.  She had dreams of studying psychology and possibly attending medical school.  Whatever she chose to do, Cathy wanted to help people and make a difference in the lives of others.  No one, particularly Cathy, could have foreseen the way she would unknowingly do this.  During her first years of college, Cathy's battle with diabetes turned into an all-out war.

Cathy developed very unusual complications with her diabetes.  She began experiencing very high blood sugar levels.  Cathy, who had always been active and athletic, began a regiment of 1-2 hours of daily exercise and kept a tightly controlled diet.  She had regular visits with her endocrinologist to regulate her insulin regiment.  Cathy learned to give herself intravenous insulin to try to stabilize her blood sugars.  In spite of her efforts, her blood sugars refused to stay in control.  She began to occasionally have to be taken to the emergency room with extremely high blood sugars (600-700).  After a time, these occasional visits turned to regular visits and eventually, nearly weekly visits. 

No treatments seemed to help.  Several doctors at Northwestern Hospital in Chicago, took an interest in her unusual case and pursued it.  They eventually diagnosed her as being one of a mere handful of diabetics whose bodies reject injected insulin.  They said, essentially, that her only hope to survive was to produce insulin internally, i.e. a pancreas transplant.  After much research, prayer and discussion, Cathy and her parents agreed to pursue this path.  In September of 2001, Cathy received her new pancreas.  Our joy from that day was short-lived. 

On October 24, 2001, Cathy went into the hospital and in essence, never came out.  She spent more than a month in intensive care and was an inpatient in the hospital on a "regular floor" for weeks after that.  Finally, the doctors found the cause - Post-Transplant Lymphoma.  A cancer caused by a common virus living in an immune suppressed person.  The lymphoma eventually spread to her brain and lower spine.

Cathy bravely endured chemotherapy, radiation to the brain and even brain surgery, which removed a small part of her skull to allow for regular, excruciatingly painful injections of chemotherapy directly into a reservoir within her brain.  Cathy suffered periodic seizures, frightening hallucinations, regular nausea and more.  The lymphoma eventually claimed her eyesight and her ability to walk.  Cathy who was once so young and alive, was now bed-ridden, in constant pain and blind at the age of 23.

Cathy endured more trials than can be described here and more than most will ever see in a lifetime.  The grace and dignity with which she bore them and the constant love and selflessness she continued to show throughout her days, was deeply moving and inspiring to all who came in contact with her.  Nurses on her oncology floor would have disputes over who got to care for Cathy each day.  Staff from all areas of Northwestern Hospital came to know about her and would ask how she was doing or would stop by to visit her.  It was as though the more ill she became, the more her heart grew.  Her love and faith far exceeded her pain.  She did not complain and was always more concerned about those around her and their lives rather than her own.

This story does not have the happy ending for which we had hoped.  On May 13, 2004, after nearly 2 years within a hospital and 10 months of home-care, our beloved Cathy passed away three months shy of her 25th birthday.  Her body never recovered from the ravaging trauma it underwent during those three years.  Her soul passed from this life to the next.  Her sorrow and pain were over, but for us who knew and loved her, it continues.  The grief extends beyond us, her family and friends.  The hospital staff on the oncology floor underwent a grief program to help them deal with her death.  For someone so young, her grace and wisdom far exceeded her years.

Her faith was extremely strong and her love for friends and family was very deep.  Cathy's biggest sorrow at the thought of dying was that her two very young nieces would never know her.  Much of what we write is a tribute to that desire of Cathy's.  We are honored to have known her, honored to have shared life with her, honored to have loved her.  No ribbon can encompass the beauty of her life and her soul but, it is a privilege for us to celebrate and remember her life in this way.

To purchase a Cathy Fleming memorial diabetes ribbon, please visit our Slam Dunk Gift Shop.  All proceeds from the sale of this ribbon will fund the Moses E. Cheeks Slam Dunk for Diabetes scholarship camp for kids with diabetes
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