I was a 3rd grader in 1974 I woke up one morning with the leg cramps that I’d been experiencing, and ignoring, for months. Rushed to the doctor's office by my mother, we soon discovered my blood sugar was 750. My doctor informed us I was two weeks away from lapsing into a coma. The official diagnosis: type 1 diabetes.
I returned to school a week later, shocked, in denial and loaded with vials of insulin and syringes. A half-size refrigerator moved in like a third roommate. My affair with diabetes began badly, but over the years diabetes has gone from 'uninvited guest' to just a part of who I am. For over the years, in moving from denial to acceptance, I learned how to live with it, and I do that well now.
In many ways diabetes keeps me far healthier than I would be otherwise. It has improved my diet and weight over the years and some would say my daily walking reflects a man possessed. Also, getting married for the first time at 48, my motivation to hang around for the long haul – and in good shape – surged.