I found a recent article disturbing. A large drugmaker estimates that three diabetes drugs in the pipeline have the potential to bring in sales of $3 billion in the next few years.

I could have looked at the upside of this. These are drugs that could improve the quality of life and health of many people living with diabetes.

I could have.

But what I see in this article is a positive report on the financials of a company getting a little richer every time another person gets diagnosed. News that panders to its shareholders and seems just a bit too pleased about having so many people with diabetes to treat. I see my son as a client in the business of diabetes. He's their demographic; he's the customer.

"You're talking peak sales in the multiple billions for all three drugs, if they succeed," an analyst from Miller Tabak & Co. said.

Imagine the cash growth if the number of people with diabetes triples or quadruples. I see investors and executives salivating over the magnificent possibilities. The mood of the piece falls just short of giving the Howard Dean "Byaaah!!! Or mumbling salaciously, "oh moneymoneymoneymoneymoneymoneymoney."

I see new corporate teams being formed for these drugs. I see growth charts pointing skyward in board rooms and targets of 366 million people with diabetes highlighted in yellow with clipart of champagne bottles. I see leather chairs and smiling faces. New departments with facedown birthday cards stealthily passed in manila envelopes from cubicle to cubicle. I see promotions, down payments on homes, morale-building bungee jumping trips and hot dog eating competitions. Boxes of blue translucent drug-monogrammed pens and handsome commercial actors rehearsing their lines.

All because of you. All because of my son.

The clients.