"And their Egyptian taskmasters made their lives bitter with hard work..."

Upon our iniital diagnoses of diabetes, many of us turn bitter at the world. We are overwhelmed with the amount of work that goes into testing, logging, carb-counting, and adjusting our insulin or other diabetes medications. We may feel bitter about having to restrict or completely forswear our favorite foods, or bitter at the way our society may blame us for our diabetes (this is particularly true for people with type 1 diabetes, which has no known associated lifestyle factors).

To top it off, some of the pills we must take to control type 2 diabetes taste bitter, and a number of the fly-by-night, unproven "herbal remedies" touted in Google Ads are based on "bitter" extracts (such as "bitter melon"). More bitter yet is the response from those who have been repeatedly pitched these panaceas -- in particular, the reaction from people living with type 1 diabetes.

During the Passover seder, we taste bitter herbs to remind us of the bitterness of slavery -- but we dip them into a sweet, nutty mixture called charoset. With a texture reminiscent of mortar, charoset's sweetness reminds us of the sweetness of freedom, the sweetness of being "G-d's chosen people". (Our Christian brethren, looking forward to Easter, may consider the bitterness of Jesus' death on Good Friday, and the sweetness of the Salvation brought by His sacrifice.)

Many of us -- especially those of us with type 2 diabetes -- have found a hidden "sweetness" within our own diagnoses. It is the sweetness of knowing more about our bodies (and how to fuel them and train them) than the average non-diabetic non-athlete, being (largely) able to control the direction of our conditions and of our lives, and of the improved health we find through active diabetes self-management. Our diagnoses have led us to eat more healthfully, to exercise more, to lose weight, and to stretch our physical and mental boundaries. Those of us who have found our way to diabetes-oriented online communities (such as dLife) also find the sweetness of developing new friendships, of finding peer support, of connecting to others who understand the highs and lows of living with diabetes

After having been "lost" in the desert of ignorance, fettered by the chains of social isolation, we have taken the bricks of bitterness and -- with the mortar of community -- built strong foundations for healthy living, for freeing ourselves from the bondage of future complications, for fending off the threat of early death.

And that is a sweet thing.