Towards the start of the Passover seder, three cakes loaves completely-formed pieces of matzoh are raised with the incantation,

"Lo, this is the bread of affliction [poor bread, lakhma ani] that our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. Let all who are hungry come and eat..."

Traditionally, we consider this bread "afflicted" or "poor" because it was made hastily, without having had time to rise. It was "poorly" made, and "afflicted" by a lack of the airy texture we associate with bread.

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Today, I'll write about freedom. The letter f.

I really don't feel like writing about diabetes today. I don't feel like thinking about it. I don't feel like testing or bolusing. I will, of course, test and bolus, because as much as I'd like a break, I value my health and the feeling of well-being and well, being alive that infused insulin brings me...

But today, I'm going to share another piece of writing. To remind myself that it isn't all about diabetes. My life, that is. My existence. My writing. None of these things are all about diabetes. And I hope that by sharing something else here, someone else will realize the same. That your life is not all about diabetes, despite the fact that it seems to take up so much room. (READ MORE)