Sparing the roses

I’ll be honest.

I contemplated not writing a Spare-a-Rose post this year.

Seriously, what good would it do? Unless you’ve got your head in the sand, you probably already know about it. You’ve probably already read a post, or two, or twenty about how flowers die, children shouldn’t.

Each post is practically a carbon-copy of the one that preceded it.

What could I possibly add to the discussion, when everything has already been said?

And I still can’t understand how insulin costs upwards of $100 per month’s supply where it is plentiful, yet it costs only $5 per month’s supply where it is scarce. So much for the fundamental economic rules of supply-and demand.

And I still can’t comprehend how, in a part of the world that is deficient in modern medicine, we know that children need insulin, yet time and time again we fail to diagnose the need for insulin in children (and adults!) in our own country.

Yes, I consider myself fortunate. Not when I pop open a new vial of insulin ( I do tend to take that for granted – but shouldn’t) — but because someone was smart enough to check my sugar levels on that day when my mom dragged me to the pediatrician’s office in 1981.

Yes, there are serious problems with the medical system in the 48 countries that stand to benefit from the IDF’s Life For a Child Programme and the Spare-a-Rose campaign.

Yes, there are serious problems with the medical system here in the United States. And if you’re reading this from somewhere other than the US or the aforementioned 48 countries, there’s probably room for improvement where you are, too.

But this isn’t about who is more deserving of help. Or about solving the larger systemic problems.

It’s about filling an immediate need for someone who is desperate. About thirty more days of life rather than zero. It’s about children.

And as my friend Alecia likes to say, “Do good, feel good.”

You know the drill. You know how it works.

Here’s the link:




Posted on February 13, 2015, in Diabetes. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. I’m glad you wrote this post. Was in the same boat, and wasn’t going to write anything — and then I got slammed with a higher-than-expected insulin refill, and my feelings and subsequent feelings started turning into a blog post. We are so fortunate, and I too can’t believe that isn’t the case now, 94 years later. Ridiculous, and I’m so proud to be part of a community that does what we can to change someone’s life for the better. Thanks for doing what you do, and again, for sharing this.



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