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Today is the sixteenth anniversary of my diabetes diagnosis. And I'm not sure that I know what I feel, or if I'm feeling anything at all. Should I celebrate? Should I reflect? Should I move on and never recognize the day at all?

I definitely believe that it's a day worth recognizing. Sixteen years with this disease is a lifetime, a major feat, a true achievement. But I guess I just don't know how to feel on the actual anniversary.

For me, diabetes is a daily walk. It's a constant celebration. I'm always cursing it. Not a second of my life goes by without considering the consequences of diabetes, both in the present and in the future.

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I recently "celebrated" my fourteenth anniversary with type 1 diabetes. I wasn't really sure how to celebrate it though. I actually didn't even tell anybody about it. It's not like I was trying to hide it from anyone or the opposite, make a big deal about it, I just didn't give it much thought. Now that I look back at it though, this anniversary actually marks my, "half of life" with diabetes day. I have had diabetes for 14 years now and it is hard to imagine. I look back and reflect on those years, and it blows me away that is has been that long. Time really does seem to fly by. What I find funny is that I really only consider my diabetic years as the ones that really count. In a way, my life got started the day I got the diagnosis.
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Recently, I was searching thru some paperwork that Olivia needed for school (OK, truth be told, I was desperately hunting down her immunization record for the first day of school - yeah, I'm just a little unorganized. Just a little.) and I came across her discharge papers from when she was diagnosed.

For the last, oh, 8 or 9 years, I've said that Olivia's diagnosis date was 9/14/97. Well, I was wrong. It was 9/10/97. So we missed it. Totally blew it. I'm kind of OK with that, though.

We've never really marked the occasion with anything more than a "Hey, it's been X years since you were diagnosed," and a bit of a discussion about how far she's come, how her care regimen has changed and then we move on with our day. I thought the ten year mark would be a bigger deal, though. But even when I thought it was on the 14th, that day came and went, and while I knew what day it was (or, rather, what day my confused brain thought it was), I never said anything to Olivia. (READ MORE)

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I am dependent on insulin. But I am otherwise an incredibly independent person. I like taking risks - on my own. I enjoy the feeling of having accomplished something by my own will and my own action. I am more outgoing and more confident than I think I would have been if I'd not been diagnosed. A combination of wanting to be able to handle my disease on my own, without pity or judgment AND the experiences I had as a young woman - through the Clara Barton Camp and the ADA's Youth Congress - transformed me from a shy, albeit precocious kid, to a person who stands on her own. A person who keeps her head up and battles mightily - in the face of whatever wrong she sees and whatever challenges she faces. But would I trade my independence for a life without diabetes? I would - though again, who's to tell if something else might have brought me to this same place. (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)