Pushing boundaries

Finding a path that helps countless others living with diabetes

When I, Neil Greathouse, was diagnosed with type 1 at the age of 19, I thought my life was over. I was at Keesler Air Force Base in Mississippi, training to become a pilot for the United States Air Force – a goal I had been working on since I was barely a teenager, with private pilot lessons and four years in the Junior Reserve O cers’ Training Corps. One day during ight training, my pancreas decided to clock out and never come back to work. When my commanding o cer walked in the hospital room where I was recovering from being in diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA), I knew the news before the words came out of his mouth: “Your ying days are over, son.” It was as if my future just went blank.

Fast-forward 26 years to

2017. I was standing in a small patchwork building made of spare pieces of wood, sheet metal and bricks in Nauta, Peru, a remote village in the Amazon rainforest. I was with a small team of doctors, construction workers and others who had agreed to join me on this mission trip to build a school and provide health screenings to the community.

is was the fourth trip out of our church. What started as a mission trip to teach the gospel turned into repeat visits that involved something much more tangible – helping to build a school, dig a well, x buildings and meet medical needs.

In front of us, thousands of Peruvians waited to be screened for diabetes, joint pain, parasites and other ailments. We had several hundred glucometers, coolers of insulin, plus glucagon, glucose tablets and other medical supplies – enough to help entire villages for several years – largely donated by the online diabetes community. Facing the crowd of anxious faces was overwhelming. Many had come from far distances. One elderly woman named Anna had travelled 14 days by hiking through the rainforest and riding up the Amazon River in a small boat not much wider than her hips. is was her

rst time seeing a doctor in 74 years!

A man named Samuel came to us with a headache, blurred vision and frequent urination.

is was an immediate red ag for DKA and we rushed him through the line to get his BGLs checked. It simply read “HI” on the glucometer – a sure sign it was over 500mg/dl (27.7mmol/L).

We gave Samuel some insulin, lots of water and electrolytes, and had him stick around with us for the rest of the day. We checked his levels every hour until his BGLs came down to a number the meter could read. Samuel already suspected he had diabetes because when he would pee in the rainforest, ants would ock to his urine on the ground.

We gave small laminated charts to every person who had high BGLs. ey had a list of foods to avoid and instructions for what to do when their BGL was high or low. Most of these people wouldn’t have access to insulin or proper medical care when we left, so the best thing we could do was provide education.

We gathered nine people who had very high BGLs and discussed diabetes care for more than an hour. e rest of the village pressed up against the windows and open slats in the hut to see what all the fuss was about. I could see the lightbulb moments when the group

These trips have helped me realise that instead of telling people how to live with diabetes, I can show them how.

grasped it wasn’t a good idea to eat plantains or drink orange juice when they weren’t feeling well from high BGLs. I pulled out a glucometer, checked my BGLs, and explained I’d been living with diabetes for 26 years. e group looked at me with disbelief and started to listen more closely.

rough our many trips to the Amazon in the past seven years, we’ve screened more than 6000 people for diabetes and other ailments. eir faces, lled with sheer gratitude, are all etched in my mind. eir smiles are genuine and the results are real.

ese trips have helped me realise that instead of telling people how to live with diabetes, I can show them how. Not just in Peru or in a remote part of the jungle, but also right here at home. And I’ve decided I am going to spend the rest of my life doing this: letting people with diabetes see me doing things that they can also do – way before I tell them I have diabetes.

I’ve competed in an Ironman triathlon and six half-marathons. I made a documentary, called

Bike Beyond, about people with type 1 cycling across the United States. I help my kids teach others about diabetes at their schools. And I work and travel just like anyone else, all while checking my BGLs and trying to keep a good balance of regular life while managing diabetes.

I think every single one of us can do this, right where we are. We can help educate those around us by living our lives in a way that shows what we are capable of. I thought my life changed when I was diagnosed, but the real change started when I began helping and educating others living with the disease. ■