Diabetes - a Long View

40 Years With Type II Diabetes — And I’m Still Kicking (Sometimes Higher Than I Should)

Why am I writing this?

Taking the scare down a notch or two.

I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes back in 1985.
Now 75, back then I was young, skinny, and not exactly drowning myself in donuts…
so the diagnosis made about as much sense as pineapple on pizza.

My girlfriend — a nurse and part-time drill sergeant — kept saying:
“Something’s wrong, you’re drinking water like a camel in August.”

Next thing I know, I’m in a doctor’s office doing the sugar test.
Thirty minutes later: “Congrats, you have Type II diabetes.”
(Still waiting for my trophy.)
First they tried pills. My glucose basically laughed at them. Then the doctor dropped the line: “You’ll need insulin shots twice a day… forever.”
Let me tell you — in 1985 those needles looked like harpoons.
I hated needles. I hated doctors. I hated life. I would’ve run away, but I was too dehydrated.

But here’s the funny thing:
👉 After two weeks, the injections were no longer a big deal.
👉 After three weeks, it was just part of the day.
👉 After a month, I was basically a professional human pincushion.
Fear fades. Routine wins.
No need to reserve appartment space in your doctor’s office. My number of doctors’ visites in the first 30 or so years: 5 or 6.

Humans can get used to almost anything except taxes.
Over 40 years, I’ve:
• taken more than 30,000 shots
• poked my fingers more times than a touchscreen
• ignored half the medical advice I got
• learned more from books and research than from doctors
• and somehow stayed alive

Today?
I’m still here. Organs working. Eyesight functioning.
Still causing trouble.

Diabetes didn’t ruin my life.
If anything, it made me learn discipline…
which is hilarious, because I never listened to anyone before that.

Here’s the truth people never hear:
Diabetes is manageable. It’s livable. And it doesn’t have to feel like a life sentence.

I’ve survived 40 years by:
• sticking to routines
• learning my glucose
• ignoring fear-based nonsense
• and taking responsibility (most of the time 😄)

If you’re newly diagnosed:
Relax.
You’re not dying.
You’re just joining the club early.

Over the years I started writing down small observations, practical tips, and things doctors rarely mention — and a few things I wish someone had told me before I freaked out.
So I organized some of them into a free PDF.