The clock hits 2:58 a.m.; it’s very early and dark this Thursday morning. I ask myself, “What in the F am I doing?” I’m wondering around the apartment with no lights on, nothing, not even the smallest of lights is on. I’m contemplating a lot right now. I had one of those days where I felt very alone. It’s not even all diabetes related, although, actually as I think about it even more I realize it all probably comes back to that.
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In some traditions, if a person has survived a serious illness or a serious trial in life, he or she will be given a new name, symbolic of a new life, of a resurrection of sorts. A diabetes diagnosis sets us each of us on a new life: a life of glucose testing, carb counting, diet watching, and medication dosing. The ways in which we react to the diagnosis, deal with it, and accept it in our lives changes us profoundly; we are never quite the same people we were before.

It is almost as if the "old" us had died, and we had been reborn again.

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