I was just about to walk out the door this morning when the phone range. Caller ID showed the name of a friend I had planned to call later. It was just before 9 a.m.

"How's The Mr.?" she wanted to know, referring to his recovery effort from Tuesday's surgery to repair an abdominal hernia.

"He's fine," I said. "How's Matt?"

"Oh, you heard?" she said uneasily.

"Yeah, K. told me last night when she dropped No. 1 off after Scouts," I said.

"Blood sugar," she said. "It was 60."

"Oh," I said, feeling relieved that it wasn't the seizure we all thought it was and that this first-grader is prone to. "OH...," I said, my voice getting lower and hinting at sadness and disapointment.

We both know what this low blood sugar might lead to, what it's a sign of. My friend, Matt's mom, is a nurse. She also has type 2 diabetes.

"Maybe it was just a fluke," I said.

Neither of us ever actually said the word 'diabetes.' (READ MORE)

Michelle Kowalski

I keep saying that my new diagnosis doesn't change anything, but it does. It just does. I can't put my finger on it, and many of the things that are going through my mind as being "worse" than having type 2 are likely just unfounded fears. (READ MORE)