Drinking My Diaversary Juice
Another year with type 1 has come and gone. For those keeping count, I'm now at 33 years with T1D. And for those who've been following along over the years, you may recall that I self-designated March 10 the date a number of years ago, because I really don't know the exact date other than it was Spring 1984 when my diagnosis came along. So, here we are one again. Woo, freakin', Hoo. I'm not one to really "celebrate" having this chronic condition for so long, but rather I more mark it with a head-nod and drink to the fact that I've managed to survive another year without falling flat on my face and staying put in the ground thanks to D. Sure, there's the whole hopeful mantra of You Can Do This these days, but the fears still exist for me that my time could be closer than I'd like, due to this disease. Not yet, Hoskins. Did I mark this diaversary in any special ways? Not really. Though, I did drink some orange juice. No, not be