So there was this carnival in New Jersey. I made a wish on this machine. It was called a Zoltar Machine! It had this bobbing head that looked just like a devil and if you got a quarter in the devil’s mouth you could make a wish and I did! So I made a wish to not have diabetes!
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OK, so that’s not how it really happened. But earlier this month, I did make a wish: I wished that I would have a chance to meet some other people in the DOC. While making that wish, I was also terrified that I would actually have to plan something, because, you know, I really stink at planning things. I had resigned to the fact that this would just become another fleeting thought of mine that would go nowhere.
My high school graduating class totaled 200 students, give or take. Of the 200, three of us had Type 1 diabetes. I had it the longest, since first grade, and the other two got it sometime around sixth. It wasn’t something we talked about much – we all were in different social circles, and in those years (teenage years, late 80s/early 90s), diabetes wasn’t something that you wore on your sleeve – literally or figuratively.