A family living well with type 1 diabetes.

Posts tagged ‘advocacy’

Steve Needs YOU!

Over six months ago I wrote about Steve Richert. If you missed that post you can be brought up to speed here

From what I’ve learned about Steve in the almost year that I’ve “known” him without actually meeting him in person, is that he is passionate about a few things: his wife, his health, climbing things of a rocky, steep nature and inspiring others to live life to the fullest in spite of diabetes, or any obstacle that one must overcome.

He is driven, level-headed, focused and disciplined.

Anyone who has kept their finger on the pulse of Living Vertical’s Project 365 will tell you it hasn’t been easy for Steve and his wife these past seven months. They have had numerous set backs and life has gone on delivering its usual grab bag of the unexpected in spite of the year long project of climbing every day that Steve has committed to, all the while managing his type 1 diabetes. But Steve has stayed strong throughout.

Along with the set backs have come some pretty amazing opportunities as well. Recently Steve has teamed up with Roche, the maker of Accu-Chek® Nano,  to help fund this project.

This is where YOU can play a part in helping Steve achieve his goal. For every “like” this video receives, Steve’s initiative gets one much needed dollar. Please view the short video where you will meet Steve and see what he is really trying to achieve, “like” the video, then please share the video with your Facebook friends and on Twitter. Every “like” the video gets helps out.

Thank you.

Health Time Capsule

For the month of April I am participating in the WEGO Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge. This means I shall attempt 30 straight days of blog posts–one for every day in the month of April. I’m not going to lie to you, I have my doubts that I can pull this off. In fact, I’m already off to a less than stellar start, given that I’m a day late with my first post.

But that doesn’t matter. I will give it my best shot and aim to make a quality contribution to this event rather than push for quantity that may be lacking in interest and passion. I enjoy the challenge of writing from prompts but if I’m not feeling it, I’m not going to post something that I’m not proud of or pleased with. So on that note, here’s the first prompt and my humble submission follows:

The prompt: Pretend you’re making a time capsule of you & your health focus that won’t be opened until 2112. What’s in it? What would people think of it when they found it?

Hello people of the future. I am the mother of a child with type 1 diabetes. I’m sure you have heard tell of this disease of the past–a heartbreaking, life-long sentence of finger pokes, injections, blood draws, doctor’s appointments, high and low blood sugars and the ever-present fear of devastating complications. It most often struck our young children, suddenly and without warning. But no one was safe, really. You are very fortunate to live in a time when this disease is merely a part of human history.

Type 1 diabetes was physically, emotionally and mentally exhausting for the people who lived with it every day. The demands of diabetes were at times immense. Imagine having to check your blood sugar by poking your finger and summoning a drop of blood anywhere from 8 to 12 times a day or more. Imagine having to count every carbohydrate you consume and calculate the dose of insulin needed to inject to ensure your blood sugar doesn’t shoot to the moon. Imagine having to have access to a considerable arsenal of medical paraphernalia at all times to stay healthy and alive. And imagine that no matter how diligent you work, no matter how hard you try you often don’t get it right. High and low blood sugars were a given–a part of everyday life. That’s just the nature of this beast.

I have included in this time capsule a copy of the blog I started and kept for years after my daughter’s diagnosis so that you might know more of what this disease was capable of and how it affected entire families. I have also included all of the items type 1 diabetics required to be at their disposal 24 hours a day, every day to live. They include:

  • blood glucose meter
  • blood glucose test strips
  • lancets
  • lancing device
  • carb tabs
  • blood ketone meter
  • blood ketone test strips
  • urine ketone test strips
  • insulin
  • insulin syringes
  • insulin pump
  • insulin cartridges
  • infusion sets
  • batteries
  • sharps container
  • continuous glucose monitor

We lived in an age that saw technology propel forward at a dizzying speed! It was incredibly hard to keep up with the latest technological gadgetry pertaining to communication and entertainment. One could go broke trying. Yet the diabetes devices and pharmaceuticals of our time were shamefully behind the times.

For the last 30 years of the 1900’s a cure was repeatedly promised to be “just steps away” or “no more than 5 years down the pike.” Finally, doctors stopped making these promises with such reckless abandon. People got wise … and maybe a little cynical too. The focus started to shift more toward treatment and prevention–not solely on a cure.

To be personally affected by type 1 diabetes is to experience a full range of emotions to their most extreme degree. It isn’t easy to cope at times. It is difficult to trust that those in the business of finding better treatments and cures are really committed to looking for that which will ultimately put them out of business.

But at the end of the day, it’s all that the people living with diabetes and those who love them have.

We must believe.

I must believe.

This is why I have written this with optimism and hope. You must know what a world without type 1 diabetes looks and feels like. In 100 years, surely the break-neck speed at which wireless communication advanced in our day finally found its way to the treatment and curing of chronic and deadly diseases such as diabetes.

…all the walks, marathons, fund raisers, the billions of dollars raised…

We as a species must have gotten our priorities in order by now … haven’t we?

Crafty D-Crafting.

So I’ve been busy helping my girls create homemade Valentines to hand out in class next week. I blame Pinterest for this sudden blast of creative ambition. If you haven’t yet familiarized yourself with Pinterest, be forewarned, it is habit forming. As if any of us need yet another online time-suck! But the cool thing about it is you can get some really neat ideas for crafts and art projects (and a plethora of other topics).

One such project that just dazzled and amazed me was this one:

You take a picture of your child holding out his or her hand as if clutching a lolly-pop, then use some sort of photo editing software to add text and embellishments, print it off, cut slits above and below the fist and feed a lolly through! Is that not the coolest thing?!

So after I had my Valentine fun with this idea, I got to thinking — how could I make use of this idea in a D-awareness sort of way? It didn’t take long for me to come up with this:

 

I think these would be cool to make bunches of and hand out at school events during Diabetes Awareness Month in November or any time there is an opportunity to raise a little awareness. What a great way to educate people about how people with diabetes can have treats too and are not relegated to a sugar-free existence. In fact, this myth is a dangerous one that really needs to be dispelled. We know too well how important and, indeed, life-saving sugar can be to a person with type 1 diabetes.

This project is more simple than it appears. Go ahead and give it a try, whether it’s to create Valentines or awareness!

 

Revisiting Our Early Days With D

This morning as I scrolled through my Facebook feed I read a post by a fellow D-Mom, Meri Shuhmacher, who blogs over at  Our Diabetic Life. Her post explained how she has noticed that her son has only been doing blood sugar checks on two fingers — his pinky and the finger next to it —  instead of using all his fingers (Jenna insists on this as well, only it’s her two pointer fingers that get picked on mostly).

In this post Meri goes on to tell how she asked him why he is doing this. He explains that he is “creating a shield”. (This made my D-Momma heart ache a little, I confess.) Her post was accompanied by a picture of a close-up of her son’s hand with calloused little digits that looked all too familiar. It brought me back to that first year after Jenna’s diagnosis and a post I wrote on September 15, 2008, just three months after Jenna’s diagnosis, discussing this unavoidable finger fate of all people with type 1 diabetes. It also brought back the heartache that I endured around the clock during that first year. We’ve come so far…

Here is a reposting of that blog post I wrote, because sometimes it’s good to look back and see how far one has come.

*     *     *     *

A Diabetic Rite of Passage

It was inevitable. We were warned about this by our diabetes nurse in hospital when Jenna was just diagnosed. I wasn’t the least bit phased by it at the time, but now that it has happened, my heart hurts for my little girl.

The tips of Jenna’s two index fingers have developed little callouses from the constant pokes with the lancet to test her blood sugar. My two and a half year old, beautiful little girl now sports the trademark of a seasoned diabetic.

I know it isn’t that big a deal, and I am without a doubt thankful for my blessings. It could be so much worse. But still I feel that familiar feeling of sadness that I felt so acutely upon her initial diagnosis every time I push that spring loaded trigger button and squeeze out her precious blood, drop by ever-loving drop.

When Jenna was first diagnosed, I remember friends and family saying that if she had to get diabetes, better now while she is so young. I remember at the time feeling both grateful for this small mercy and profoundly saddened by it at the same time. On the one hand, yes it is true that Jenna will be spared having to change habits that had been years in the making and will never mourn the loss of her far less complicated,pre-diagnosis days. But on the other hand, how tragic that she will never know what it’s like to occasionally eat with reckless abandon, or to run out the door to play with only the clothes on her back and not have to worry about packing glucose tabs or her glucometer with her, not to mention her ever-present insulin pump strapped to her little waist.

The thought that really gave me pause was the one that popped into my head within the first 24 hours of her diagnosis; My daughter can’t survive without the help of modern medicine. Jenna is sentenced to a lifetime of being a heavy consumer of pharmaceuticals for her very survival. She will never know any different.

Jenna is becoming more curious about her diabetes. She is asking questions and making statements, looking for confirmation and reinforcement, saying things like, “I have diabetes, right? I need my pump, don’t I?” I know she is attempting to understand and deal with it all. I also know that this is just the tip of the ice burg. Over the years there will be many more of Jenna’s questions to answer and emotions to feel and they aren’t all going to be as positive and accepting as they seem to be now.

I guess in the grand scheme of things a couple of little callouses isn’t the end of the world. But to me they represent all the pain, and trials Jenna has had to overcome and everything she has yet to endure throughout her life with diabetes. And because of that my heart breaks a little everytime I look upon those precious little two year old fingers.

…but the testament they are to her strenth and courage is what makes me fill to bursting with pride.

What’s Funny?

Let’s dispel a few myths, shall we?:

  • Your eyes won’t stay that way if you cross them. You may turn a few stomachs doing that, but your eyes will return to their normal position again, rest assured.
  • You won’t get a sty in your eye if you pee on the road, but you may just get arrested so don’t, okay? (I can’t be the only person who’s mom shared that little gem, can I?)
  • And finally, you can’t — CAN NOT! — get diabetes from eating too much sugar. Seriously.

You see, type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease. The body’s own immune system has made a mistake and turned on the cells in the pancreas that produce insulin, killing them and leaving their owner without a means to process the glucose ingested from food.  So people can stop with the inaccurate “jokes” regarding the eating of large quantities of sugar and the onset of diabetes.

Now, I know what some of you might be thinking: What’s the big deal?! It’s a joke! Can’t some people take a JOKE?! Why are you touchy people ruining it for the rest of us?!

Well, first of all, if your life’s happiness hinges upon feeling free to use false and misleading information to make fun of people with chronic illness , you have far worse things to concern you. Like the fact that your sense of humour SUCKS, just for starters.

See, the thing is, I love a good, leg-slapper just as much as the next person. In fact, there is a good case to be made for those of us facing serious life challenges and our increased ability to find the humour in them. But the joke has to be funny. And here’s why these sorts of jokes aren’t funny. First, a joke has to ring true. People have to be able to relate to it. If the joke were about a person with diabetes having to nip off to the loo frequently, well, that could easily happen. A rip-roarin’ bout of hyperglycemia can leave a person with a raging case of polyuria. Or if the joke were about a person with diabetes unknowingly walking around with used test strips stuck to her person, again — could happen. In fact, I’m living proof that it does happen. And it’s funny when it happens! Hell, you should see some of the places I have found used test strips! Uh … on second thought …

But a lame joke that perpetuates a misconception that leads the public to believe that people with diabetes are responsible for getting this disease, I have to draw the line there. There’s nothing funny about people asking you if you gave your child candy as a baby causing her to get diabetes. There’s nothing funny about people judging you or your child to be deserving of a horrible, all consuming, potentially life-shortening disease like diabetes.

Right now I am the one absorbing the emotionally taxing blows of insensitive, uninformed comments because Jenna is so young. But one day she will be the one facing the full impact of jokes and comments made by an ignorant, overly judgemental society. It will become her battle as well to set straight the uninformed among us. And it’s important that she does. If society mistakenly believes that people with diabetes are reaping what they have sown, then the public’s financial support to fund research for better treatments and a cure will be affected by this inaccurate depiction. And we can’t afford to lose donations toward a cure. This disease is on the rise. No one asks for diabetes.

Oh. And for those who are screaming “TYPE 2, you over sensitive Mom of a kid with diabetes! We are laughing at people with type 2 diabetes!!” — first of all, shame on you. Secondly, you should know that there are plenty of fit, slim, otherwise healthy people  out there with type 2 diabetes. Sure, it’s more common among people who are overweight, but it isn’t an exclusive club. There is a genetic predisposition at play and other factors which are not fully understood. And so what if being overweight does contribute to the development of type 2 diabetes in some people? The majority of us in the western world are above our ideal body weight!  Being above your ideal body weight increases your chances of developing other diseases too, like cancer. Would we say of an overweight woman battling breast cancer that she had it coming? How the hell do we know what factors caused someone’s disease? What does it say of our society if we believe those among us fighting disease are merely lying in the beds we made? Are we really that heartless and judgemental? What makes us think we are immune from suffering chronic illness and can therefore make disparaging remarks about those that do?

Be informed. Set people straight. Don’t be afraid to be the only one not laughing at the inappropriate,  callous and misleading “joke”. You never know when this disease — whatever type — will hit too close to home and you’ll wish you’d been a little more sensitive and a lot less judgemental.

Diabetes and Doctors.

I’ve recently found myself in the upsetting position of having to defend the 8 to 12 blood sugar checks we perform daily on Jenna to a pediatrician. It was during a routine check up. An a1c drawn at this appointment revealed pretty darn good control at 7.8. Still, this medical professional felt that checking Jenna up to 12 times a day on occasion, was excessive.

Jenna does not wear a CGM. For those who read my blog but don’t live with diabetes daily, first – thank you. You give a damn. You want to learn more. That’s so awesome! Second – a CGM (continuous glucose monitor) is a device that has a sensor which is inserted under the skin and stays in place for several days, measuring blood glucose in interstitial fluid many times throughout the day and night. It is a great piece of technology, but it has a ways to go before it is a consistently accurate and reliable way to monitor blood sugar. We are waiting until the technology improves before investing money and subjecting Jenna to yet another jab and another device to have to wear. In the meantime, regular blood sugar checks are necessary to ensure Jenna is safe. This means we get up every night, sometimes more than once depending on the circumstances, to perform blood sugar checks.

You see, each reading is merely a snapshot. She may be 5.8 at 10:00pm – an excellent reading, but what you may not know is that she is headed down fast because of the insulin on board from that bedtime snack she had or the extra hard playtime when she ran for an hour solid earlier in the day! By midnight she could be 2.1! The only way to know is to check.

I left the doctor’s office that day feeling so many emotions – anger, frustration, annoyance – but the worst, the absolute worst was the self-doubt and shame I felt. I actually let this doc get to me! I questioned whether we were doing the absolute best we could be doing for our little girl. He made me feel like we were setting Jenna up for failure with our diligence. How would she be able to pick up the baton when it was time to hand it over to her? This question was posed to me as I defended our nightly blood sugar checks to ensure her safety. He stated that if it were him, he wouldn’t be able to function on the broken sleep we were getting.

Never mind that I made the valid point that she will not just suddenly, one day, be charged with her entire diabetes management – that it will be a gradual process that has already begun that won’t overwhelm her. No, he felt we were setting the bar too high and needed to pull back. He then went on to assure me that Jenna would awaken if she were to go too low. Absolutely, for sure. Without question.

Now, the whole idea of checking and monitoring is to avoid highs and lows. AVOID them! Not to let them happen and deal with the low when it materializes in whatever frightening form that may take, i.e. seizure, or worse. I DO NOT want to have to administer glucagon, call the paramedics and pray that my daughter survives, all because I needed my sleep. We have survived the past three and a half years getting up in the night to ensure Jenna is safe. We have adapted, just as countless other parents have done. And I happen to know that not all people awaken when their blood sugar drops too low. Tragedies happen only too often. How does this doctor not know this?

I was a broken woman when he was finished with me – as broken as Jenna’s pancreas. I never want to feel that way again. And I never, ever want another parent of a child with diabetes to feel that way.

Being a pancreas to a child who’s own pancreas is busted is NOT easy. It is a constant, demanding, ever-changing, exhausting, unruly, scary, unpredictable, 24/7 job. No breaks – no holidays. Any parent who does this – any person with diabetes who does this – deserves respect and support – NOT criticism.

I recently read a quote written by another mom of a child with diabetes that sums it up beautifully:

…I have learned that it is not just about the needles and the numbers –it is about the constant burden of having to perform a critical body function externally . Think for a minute about having to tell your heart when to beat…and how fast. Imagine what it would feel like to know if you slipped for a moment what the consequenc es would be. It can be a heavy weight to bear at times.

Just for the record, I did tell this doc that, with all due respect, I was the parent of a child with diabetes – not him. But I did let what he said hit too close to my heart and I shouldn’t have. It took me days to recover from it. But with the help of my husband, who was furious at this doctor for making me feel so inept, and the reassurance of members of the diabetes online community who validated my diligence and questioned this doc’s knowledge of type 1 diabetes, I bounced back stronger than before. I felt reassured that I am doing the very best I can to keep my daughter safe and healthy and I shouldn’t have to defend what I do to ensure that goal is met every single day and night, especially to someone who doesn’t know what it is like to be a satellite pancreas – medical degree or not!

To the doctors out there: I urge you to tread carefully when you are sitting across from the parent of a child with type 1 diabetes, or a PWD. I know your intentions are good, but unless you have a child with type 1 diabetes, or you have diabetes yourself, you can’t possibly know what it is like to do what we do. Be positive, supportive and understanding. But above all, please be humble. Know that each diabetic person’s disease is as unique as a fingerprint and the approach to managing it can be just as varied and individualized. We are all doing the best we can. It’s not easy and some days are harder than others. You are merely one member of a team in the management of this disease; you are not the definitive expert, as hard as that may be for some of you to accept. Also, a little praise goes a long way. A pat on the back for the 7.8 a1c would have been nice.

Luckily, we had a check up appointment with Jenna’s endocrinologist two days later and received the positive reinforcement and validation we so desperately needed. We always have a positive experience when we see Jenna’s endocrinologist – who, by the way, feels that we are, in no way, paranoid or checking Jenna too much. As always, she applauded our efforts and praised our approach. I am so grateful for her.

Get Your Blue On!

Today is World Diabetes Day. Today is the day we don the blue attire and raise awareness. So here it goes:

  • Diabetes currently affects 246 million people worldwide and is expected to affect 380 million by 2025.
  • More than 3 million Canadians have some form of diabetes.
  • Over 300,000 Canadians live with type 1 diabetes.
  • Canada has the sixth highest incidence rate of type 1 diabetes in children 14 years or younger in the world.
  • The incidence rate of type 1 diabetes is rising by three to five per cent in Canada; the greatest rise occurs in five to nine year olds.
  • Worldwide 70,000 children develop type 1 diabetes annually (almost 200 children a day).
  • Globally, every ten seconds two people develop diabetes.
  • Diabetes is the fourth leading cause of global death by disease.
  • Globally, every ten seconds a person dies from diabetes-related causes.
  • According to the International Diabetes Federation, each year 3.8 million deaths are attributable to diabetes. An even greater number die from cardiovascular disease made worse by diabetes-related lipid disorders and hypertension
  • Living with type 1 diabetes requires approximately 1,460 needles a year (based on four injections per day) and 2,190 finger pokes a year to test blood sugar levels.
  • The World Health Organization indicates five to ten per cent of a nation’s health budget is spent on diabetes.
  • Diabetes and its complications cost the Canadian economy more than $17.4 billion a year.

This is a disease we can’t ignore. We must take action. Do something. Donate. Write. Talk. Educate. Test in public. Wear blue. Be heard. Be seen.

The Facts

I’ll be honest, I’ve been censoring myself. I’m afraid.

I’m afraid of posting too much negativity and offending people. And it’s not just here on my blog; I’ve been censoring myself on my facebook page too. I know people don’t like to read upsetting things, especially if it doesn’t pertain to them personally, so I have been trying to avoid posting too much upsetting information and news about diabetes. But that isn’t very honest of me, is it?

Many in the DOC have been talking about something. It is the most horrible side-effect of taking subcutaneous injections or infusions of insulin: nocturnal hypoglycemia resulting in death. The victim just never wakes up the next morning. This is a terrifying phenomenon. And I’d love to say that it is also a rare phenomenon, but that just doesn’t seem to be the case–not according to the latest findings.

1 in 20. Let’s do some math: thats 10 in 200, 100 in 2000, 1000 in 20 000! Does that sound rare to you? If you had a child on insulin therapy, thereby putting your child at risk of suffering this fate, would that be acceptable to you? Would you be comfortable with that? How many is too many? At what point do we, as a society, stop and say, “Shit! Something must be done!”

I don’t want to be a Debbie-Downer. I’m actually quite a positive person. But I am also a realist. I don’t shove my head in the sand, or for that matter, in piles of glitter. It’s just not how I choose to live life. I prefer to know what I’m up against. Knowledge is power. The only way to change this statistic is to get people pissed off about it. And the only way to do that is to share the information.

For, you see, we keep losing our children. They are still dying in their sleep from nocturnal hypoglycemia. It is happening. It seems like every few weeks I learn of another family who kissed their precious child goodnight one night and never got to kiss them good morning the next day. And I’m tired of it. I’m mad. I’m heartbroken.

Admittedly, I am also afraid. I don’t live every waking hour in fear for my daughter’s life, but I do admit that not a day goes by that I don’t worry about her. That worry is pronounced at night. It’s what compels me to get up every night, sometimes more than once depending on the circumstance, to check Jenna to make sure she is safe. Those routine checks have caught countless lows and thwarted many disasters.

We can’t just sit quietly by and accept these tragic losses. We can’t just shrug and say “well, that’s the nature of the beast known as diabetes.” Tell that to the families who have buried their children.

And I can’t censor myself and pretend that everything is just fine. It isn’t. We walk a fine line every day and every night. We act as our children’s pancreas–our children’s imperfect, clumsy, inadequate pancreas. We are on-call, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We must be prepared at all times for the unexpected. We must be diligent.

We fight every day and every night to avoid our children becoming statistics.

We want the world to know.

We want a cure.

World Diabetes Day Postcard Exchange!

If you haven’t yet heard, there is something going on in the global Diabetes community that you really don’t want to miss. Seriously. I mean, this is sheer brilliance. But then, it comes from the creative genius of none other than Lee Ann Thill of The Butter Compartment — the very same Lee Ann Thill who came up with Diabetes Art Day — so I’m not the least bit surprised.

If you submit your mailing address to Lee Ann, she will then forward it to another PWD (Person With Diabetes) and send you the address of that person as well and then you create a postcard incorporating the World Diabetes Day blue circle in the design, then you complete a mini D-meme on the back with details such as your name, your address, your connection to diabetes, etc., then you mail it off to your recipient and that person will return the favour! The idea is to make connections with people in other parts of the world who know the D as you do. It is a way to feel less alone — to connect.

But you should really just head on over to Lee Ann’s blog and read her description. She has all the need-to-know details there for you, including her email addy.

I am really chuffed about Jenna being a part of this. I know she will be tickled to get something in the mail from someone who “gets it”. Heck, she’ll just be revved to get her own piece of mail! And if this becomes an annual event (as I’m confident it will), she will look forward to World Diabetes Day every year for such a fun reason.

Anything that helps Jenna and others with diabetes feel less alone in this, as well as gets people’s creative juices flowing is a beautiful thing.

Imagine.

There’s a saying that goes, “If you can imagine it, it can be achieved.”

I invite you to join me in daring to imagine a cure.

They’ve done it! Those scientists who have been accepting our steady flow of hard earned donations and working tirelessly for many, many years have finally done it! A CURE for our babies — our children, young and old!

It wasn’t easy, and the faith of many faltered along the way. Promises were broken time and time again and it wore us down. How could we continue to believe in a myth that only served to disappoint and deflate our spirits. And as children with diabetes grew into adults with diabetes and learned by necessity to live with this ruthless disease, their dreams of a cure became as distant a memory as their diagnosis stories. The repeated disappointment was too much to endure. They watched as more children were diagnosed and given the same promise of a cure. They knew better, but they couldn’t crush the spirit of the newly drafted recruits. It was all they had to help them through those first few years after diagnosis. Besides, they’d find out over time.

But the headlines read “A CURE AT LAST!” on the papers today and told of hundreds of thousands of people rejoicing in the streets all over the world, planning the parties to celebrate their new freedom — freedom from the injections, finger pokes, site changes, carb counting and the constant, never ending struggle to regain and maintain blood glucose homeostasis. Freedom from the fear of losing our precious, precious children in the night as they sleep. Freedom from the worry about long term complications, some of which are too horrible to mention.

Indeed, the road has been long and fraught with set-backs. Years of hurting families gathering together to walk for a cure, struggling to stay positive but each year without a cure casting a little more shadow of doubt on their already broken hearts.

But no more.

No more walks are necessary. No more fund raisers. No more funerals for children stolen by an invisible bandit known as “Nocturnal Hypoglycemia” or the more macabre name “Dead-In-Bed syndrome”.  The goal has been reached! The cure will be made available to humankind and this relentless, ruthless, lawless disease will become extinct — a part of our history. We will be teaching future generations about the age before the great cure. It will be known as the second dark age. Because along with the cure for type 1 diabetes came a better understanding of the human immune system and set in motion a chain of events that would make possible, more than ever before, a cure for many other auto-immune diseases, including cancer.

Type 1 Diabetes is no more.

A cure.

A CURE.

Let’s get the job done. Let’s do this for all of our children and for all those we have lost.

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