Category Archives: Cure
Every so often, we get a glimpse of what may be on the horizon. The things that researchers are working on, that might — someday — have the potential to possibly improve the lives of people with diabetes.
I used to get excited over every little bit of news. Everything new. But then something changed. Perhaps I’ve become cynical. Or fearful. Or pessimistic.
Some of these new developments just don’t excite me anymore. Yet others do.
The Artificial/Bionic/Bi-Hormonal Pancreas. In all its iterations…
A couple of weeks ago, I attending an annual meeting for my local JDRF chapter (my “local” chapter – the one that includes the county in which I live – happens to be farther away from home than some of the neighboring chapters, but… whatever). The featured keynote speaker was chief smart-guy-and-really-nice-guy Aaron Kowalski (official title: “Vice President of Treatment Therapies”). He’s also Type 1 and hails from New Jersey, so that’s reason enough for me to like him.
I won’t go into rehashing the bullet points of his talk. Although I did take some notes along the way for the purpose of this blog, I know that I can’t do justice in reproducing his words, delivery, and enthusiasm. That would be like me sharing my karaoke performance of “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” – even though I don’t have the voice, can’t keep a rhythm, and haven’t got the moves like Jagger. And who wants to see an attempt at a copycat performance? So I won’t even try.
Since starting this diabetes-themed blog over a year ago, the inclusion of musical references has been a recurring theme.
- Lyrics from the Beatles have appeared…
- I wove Meat Loaf into a teenage memory…
…and considered swapping my disease for Bon Jovi’s.
- A Credence Clearwater Revival song led to my first DOC Meetup…
…and running into a long-lost high-school classmate was like Peaches reuniting with Herb.
- A catchy little ditty from Blues Traveler sang the praises of automatic data logging…
…while a Melissa Etheridge lyric titled a post about my great-aunt’s funeral.
- Although I shamelessly made a mockery of Canada’s national anthem…
…some boys from Kansas knew exactly how I managed to Carry On.
Even the very name of this blog is inspired by a Grammy Award-winner’s song title.
But today, after reading another blog post today on SurfaceFine, I thought of a song that I used to listen to when I needed inspiration. A song about all the stuff I had put off until tomorrow — a tomorrow that has yet to come.
One day, there will be a cure.
I’m about 75% sure of that. (I’m about 40% sure that I got that percentage right).
But it’s not here right now, and I’m 100% sure of that. So please don’t misunderstand and please don’t be misled. There is no way to cure yourself of diabetes. At least not that anyone knows of.
When someone does finally discover the holy grail — and I mean a finished product, not just an abstract idea — how will it take form, and how will it get deployed to the masses? That’s a challenge in and of itself. In all likeliness, this will need to be figured out even before the press-release goes out, otherwise the poor miracle-worker’s office could resemble a Walmart early in the morning following Thanksgiving.
The big news lately surrounds the announcement over the DRI’s “BioHub” and the social-media teaser that preceded it. You can read my thoughts on that series of events in a comment I left on the DiabetesDad blog. But this post is not directed at the DRI; it’s to the folks who feel they absolutely cannot wait for the true announcement that still seems just out of reach. Give it a read, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on the topic.
As I surf the various online diabetes-related forums, whether it’s on JDCA’s Facebook page, JDRF’s LinkedIn group, or DiabetesDad’s blog, nothing distresses me more than the comments by forlorn parents and grandparents of children with diabetes. Usually, those comments read like a variation of the following: My beautiful Cameron* was devastated with the diagnosis of Type 1 two long months ago, and we desperately need a cure!! It kills me to watch my child suffer an eternity of painful injections, dietary restrictions, and being socially ostracized. I mourn the loss of Cameron’s childhood every day!!
These kind of comments make me sick. Not because it’s unfortunate for anybody to be diagnosed with diabetes, but because the parents seem to believe there’s no hope for them to live a happy life. These comments are filled with sorrow and despair, and they suggest that the child is doomed to live a miserable life. This message is for those parents:
DON’T FEEL HOPELESS! A GOOD LIFE DOESN’T END AT DIAGNOSIS!!