Stumble It!
A Year and a Half with the Diabetes Monster
I met David Lazarus years ago when he worked for the San Francisco Chronicle. Two years ago, he moved south to join the Los Angeles Times. And shortly thereafter, he became one of us. This is his view from ‘the inside’…
A guest post by David Lazarus, business columnist for the LA Times
The day I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in October 2007 at the age of 46, I could see my 
fear reflected in my then-6-year-old son’s eyes. I put on a brave face. We got out the crayons, sat down together at the kitchen table and drew a picture of a monster.
“That’s diabetes,” I said.
Then we drew a cage around the monster.
“That’s insulin,” I said. “That’s how we’re going to keep the diabetes monster under control.”
A year and a half later, the monster’s still in the cage. But it isn’t easy, as other type 1 types know all too well. The carb counting, the dosing, the daily calculations and adjustments, the all-too-frequent frustrations — I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.
But you manage. And I’m sure I’m not the first person to find in this strange disease some unexpectedly positive outcomes. I’m more fit now than I was before. I eat better. I pay more attention to what my body’s saying. And the most surprising aspect of diabetes has been an almost Buddhist awareness of living in the moment, of being conscious of what’s happening to me and around me throughout the day. I find I don’t stress as much as I once did about big-picture stuff like my career and whether we’ll have enough to retire on and how on earth I’ll ever pay for my son’s college education. I still fret about all that, make no mistake. But when you live your life on a meal-by-meal basis, somehow it all seems to take care of itself.
Not that I don’t get pissed — I do. Like when my numbers climb into the 200’s because I got careless with a snack. Or when, despite my best efforts, I totally missed on the guesstimate for the Chinese food I had for dinner. Or when I read about the seven to 10 years less life I’m supposed to have because of this stupid condition, and I grit my teeth at the statistical unfairness of it all.
And I get royally cheesed when I deal with insurance companies, which view me as a liability, and when I deal with drug companies, which view me as a profit center. I think about the pricing of test strips — a roughly 900% markup over the manufacturing cost, as best as I can tell — and I marvel at the shamefulness of such a thing. The global market for glucose meters and test strips was estimated at $6.3 billion as of 2005. It undoubtedly tops $7 billion now. And we’re thinking the pharmaceutical industry is working to cure this thing? You could argue that they have a financial obligation to shareholders to prevent a cure from ever coming to light.
Sorry. I don’t mean to be cynical. If anything, diabetes has taught me to be more flexible and resilient, and to appreciate all the little things that make life special. And I’m proud of how I handle myself. My A1c is in the 5’s. And now that I’m on the pump — I started on the Ping a few months ago — I feel like my control has never been better.
That’s not to say things won’t ever go wrong. My dad’s also a type 1, has been for about 50 years, and he’s dealing with a bunch of bad stuff on the complications front — eyes, feet, gums. I have better tools than he had for much of his diabetes life. But I also know that to an alarmingly large extent, it’s all a crap shoot.
So I do what I can. I take care of myself. I try not to let my disease define me. And I count my blessings. Every day.
Recently, my son was asked by an acquaintance what his daddy does.
“He writes for the newspaper,” came the reply. “And he’s on the radio and on TV. And he has diabetes.”
I can live with that.
Thank you David; you speak from my soul!
Explore posts in the same categories: Holy @#$! Amazing Stories, Personal Stories, Self-Disclosure
Great post. I love what his son said about what he does. We all have the jobs we get paid for, and then the job that keeps us alive!!
Posted by: Sara | June 18th, 2009 at 7:11 amGreat guest post Amy, thank you!
Good for you David (and your son).
Keep up the good work.
And Sara is so right: our paying job and our life job. No doubt.
Posted by: CALpumper | June 18th, 2009 at 7:27 amMy thoughts on the monster in the cage… I know you didn’t want to scare the boy, but a more accurate depiction of the situation would be to draw the monster, diabetes, and the other monster, on a leash, insulin.
Posted by: Jerry Nairn | June 18th, 2009 at 11:21 amOne is there, somewhat under your control, to fight the other. Either one might end up killing you.
Always enjoy the occasional guest post to see who else is out there managing this (or researching or treating as the case may be). It does fascinate me how people get this later in life, and how they cope, adjust and change amongst a backdrop of children, spouses, and careers in full-swing (and all the other grown-up stuff). Good stuff to read and think about so thanks, David and Amy!
Posted by: Lee Ann Thill | June 18th, 2009 at 11:32 am*Adjusting my art therapist hat*
I couldn’t help but smile at the anecdote about drawing the monster in a cage with your son. Sounds like it was a beneficial exercise for you both.
Posted by: Lee Ann Thill | June 18th, 2009 at 11:44 ami feel bad for david but even more so about how he feels about the drug companies. think about it, for less than a buck you can see what your blood glucose is instantly. not many years ago, people would have paid a fortune for that information. besides, if he thinks it is so simple to develop a blood glucose monitor and test strips that would sell for pennies, i think he should try it.
Posted by: elmas | June 18th, 2009 at 4:04 pmElmas, thanks for your input, but I don’t think you need to “feel bad.” In my eyes, David is just expressing the frustration that so many of us feel about the high cost of chronic illness — and knowing that many companies profit big from our condition.
Posted by: AmyT | June 18th, 2009 at 6:34 pmWow — We have much in common. I was diagnosed 1.5 years ago at age 47 with a 7 year old son! Everything in this post rang so true for me (except the part about Dad with Type 1 – no one in my family closer than great grandmother) — We’ll all hang in there, and at least we have something treatable – not so true with many other being diagnosed every day.
Posted by: Pam | June 19th, 2009 at 12:21 pmI found David’s article very interesting because I was diagnosed with type 1 (or maybe 1 1/2, docs are a little vague on this) at 47 in 1987. I don’t often meet people who were diagnosed in their 40’s, and so far the only others I have met have been women. I don’t seem to have this disease in my family. I wonder how common such a late diagnosis is. I did have gestational diabetes twice.
I guess those of us with a late diagnosis should feel very lucky.
On a different point, I don’t understand how any type 1 diabetic can have an A1C in the 5s. I guess it isn’t so unusual, but if I were to try I am sure I would be spending a lot of time on the floor. My endo doesn’t want me to aim for for anything close to that–he is very happy with low 7s and was a bit concerned that my 6.8 could be dangerous, even though I test an embarrassing number of times every day and a couple of times each night.
Marlene N.
Posted by: Marlene Nicholson | June 19th, 2009 at 4:42 pmGreat guest post – thanks David & Amy!
Posted by: Scott K. Johnson | June 22nd, 2009 at 6:01 amI’m glad to hear that I’m not the only diagnosed in their 40’s !
Thank you Amy & David !.
Posted by: misskitty5 | June 27th, 2009 at 11:18 amThank you, thank you. I have a 2 year old son who was diagnosed 8 mos ago and it’s been a ride & a half. I appreciate this post and will share it on my FB account.
Posted by: Fenbeast | July 4th, 2009 at 7:50 pm