Imagine for a moment that I found a magic bottle with a a genie who popped out and offered me ten diabetes-related wishes (because I'm swell and clearly deserve more than three). Of course I wouldn't be allowed to just wish away my diabetes altogether. (It's the small print that gets you every time). I might ask the Beedies Genie for the following:

-- Hallucinogenic metformin.

-- A couch with special cushions that will make my body burn calories while I sit on my butt and watch Battlestar Galactica.

-- A super smart version of phentermine that can fool the body for longer than three months.

-- A line of Converse diabetic Chuck Taylors-- For that matter, any diabetic shoes that are both affordable and don't look like they were designed either for Peter Boyle in Young Frankenstein or the whole cast of Cocoon.

-- Mandarin Orange Propell at every beverage fountain. (READ MORE)

Today, I have had diabetes for twenty five years. And I'm not sure exactly how I feel.

I guess, lucky - my body is free, so far, of complications.

I also feel somewhat happy and strong - I mean, I started this journey as a scared, angry little girl and I'm here now - a somewhat accomplished, otherwise healthy, happy woman.

And I feel a little sad - for the weight of diabetes is surely heavy on some days. I don't let myself think of what life might have been like if I'd never been diagnosed - because - really, what would be the point? I think more of the constant juggle and the often unavoidable failures and the sheer relentlessness of diabetes management. And yeah, that makes me sad. (READ MORE)

"A little bit of OCD isn’t necessarily such a bad thing for a person with diabetes."

So said the therapist to Susanne on the phone as she made an appointment for us to see him next week.

He comes highly recommended from Children’s Hospital. The fact that he’s type 1 is an added bonus. Well, for us. Not so much for him.

Charlie is a really good, sweet kid, but there is no denying, he is exhausting. It often feels like there is eight of him. It’s like that bad Michael Keaton movie – Multiplicity. Charlies are everywhere, wanting something ALL. THE. TIME.

Top of the stairs – "Can I have lunch now?"

In the bathroom – "Can I have a chocolate egg?"

  (READ MORE)