Joslin

Today, I am at the Joslin Diabetes center in Boston. A friend of mine, who also happens to be type 1 is in town from upstate New York for a visit to "the Mother ship" as we like to call the Center.

She's been feeling like her sugars are out of control and felt a visit with the all-knowing at Joslin would be good. It's smart.

I've been here before. After dropping her off at the front door, which is much more subtle that I recalled it being over ten years ago when I came here for the first time, I went to park the car.

Last night, KC and I stayed up late talking. We went online and she showed me pictures of her beautiful boys, ages 3 and 2. I mentioned to her that there is a ice cream joint nearby that I'd like to go to if she had any interest. We talked about food and how guilty she felt whenever she ate anything at all. I don't' feel guilty per say, but I am conscious of what others around me might be thinking.

I hate how people see me taking insulin after, or just before I start into a dessert, and they make some comment about me "cheating". It is rare that this happens, really. My friends and family don't say much. They trust that I'm not killing myself. But others don't seem to realize that their pancreas is producing more insulin too, it's just that we diabetics have to do so manually. Lots of ice cream and hot fudge isn't good for anyone.

So, we chatted on about this and that and both joked about having "diabetic brain". I swear that I have a harder time getting my thoughts out and that it is a direct result of my condition. She agreed that she's experienced too, "But, really, I think we're both just thinking about getting ice cream." That was true, and we left for Meletharbs.

I planned on wandering around a bit, maybe going to the local Galleria Mall, until I heard from her that her appointments were done, but curiosity got the better of me and I decided to come inside and have a look around. It did look familiar of course. When I'd last come, with exception to a brief visit a few years ago for second opinion with some issue, the place seemed much bigger. It's funny because I wasn't a kid. I was 21. But still, it seems smaller now.

I recall that one or two floors are for treatment and the others are for research. Approaching the building from the outside, I could see people in the upper floors in small offices and I wondered, are they trying to find a cure? Or checking their email. I don't think about a cure. I've accepted that in my case this condition is for good and I'm OK with that. Every once in a blue moon I cry in my chocolate milk at the whole situation, but for the most part, it's part of me now; this lack of function in one organ. I've never really thought about what it would be like to not be diabetic. I suppose that's good, like there are other things I obsess about more.

I'm excited for KC. I'm excited to hear what she will learn and how it will help her.