Insulin is time in a bottle.
When I think about the very small amount of clear liquid that keeps me healthy and alive, I'm sometimes astounded. That teeny tiny amount of insulin is another day to make a difference, another day to feel the sun on my face, another day to spend with the people I love, another day to make the most of it. When I'm frustrated and sad, I remember that. On occasion, I'll draw a few of those funky smelling drops into a syringe, letting it fill my senses and really remind me of the power those teeny droplets have. Â
Before insulin, if you were diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, you died. In short order. And terribly. Wasting away to nothing, the body literally eating itself for energy to simply breathe.  I am alive because someone (or someones), for whatever reason, wouldn't watch that happen anymore. Maybe they were on a quest for fame, or they'd lost someone in that terrible way. Maybe they were full of ego, wanted to be god-like, or they just wanted to figure out one of the world's big questions. Whatever their motives, I'm alive because someone (or someones) dedicated their life to insulin.Â
Sounds funny, I guess, that they dedicated their life to insulin so that millions of children and adults could dedicate their lives to the pursuit of their own dreams, so that millions could pursue their own ego-driven or pure-of-heart escapades. I wonder if they knew that when they stayed in the lab overnight, when they tried and tried again, when they threw up their hands in frustration or joy. I wonder if they know that they dedicated their life to insulin so that I, just about 90 years later, could be alive and thriving. Whether they knew it or not, they provided me with years of life in a little bottle. I owe my life to them. Â
And what is life about, but those debts of gratitude, debts we can only hope to re-pay by living with a full heart and the best of intentions. Debts to long-since dead people who spent their time figuring toward a better world for people they'd never even know. Pretty remarkable, isn't it?Â
My life turns daily on a pool of liquid that's no bigger than a dime. Pinhead sized drips that allow me to eat and drink and think and be. Bandaid-smelling lifeblood.Â
The life's work of a person or people I might have loved or hated. Â
I am forever grateful that they lived. I am grateful that I live because they dreamed, because they strived, because they succeeded.  Â
Insulin is time in a bottle.
And now, I'm humming the song...
This is a very insightful topic, really makes one think. It is both scary and fascinating to imagine how the discovery of insulin has saved countless of lives throughout the world, and continues to be a type 1 diabetic's only real life source. And it was discovered more than 90 years ago.
It proves that great things are possible in the research lab, and hopefully the next great discovery will be a cure for diabetes. The organization I am involved with - the Juvenile Diabetes Cure Alliance, is focused on maximizing our efforts and developing a cure sooner rather than later - by 2025, or less than 15 years from now. It is ambitious, but imagine how much it would change the world. The number of diabetics is rising, the costs are expending, and life-long treatments are not available for everyone. In a way, we need a cure as badly as we needed insulin. It is possible, but we have to make sure all the resources are going into the right place - mainly the research lab. Hopefully one day we will be talking about the special individual or individuals who discovered a cure.