Hey Diabetes,

I was twelve when you showed up. I was a chubby, quiet kid who mostly wanted to play video games, and then one summer I dropped twenty pounds and could not stop drinking. I had no idea it was you.

I remember the night it happened. My oldest brother, Joseph, caught me trying to hide that I was sick, and instead of laughing he knew something was wrong. I handed him a tangerine because I was too weak to open it myself, and I told him I felt like I was dying. He woke our dad up and made him promise to take me to the doctors the next day. By the time we reached the hospital my levels were so high the nurse could not believe I was still standing.

That was the first thing you taught me. I was never going to carry you alone. My mom and sister learned to draw up my insulin. My dad still checks every single night that he is connected to my Dexcom CGM before he lets himself sleep. My partner, Jasslyne, checks my levels when we are together. My whole family shows up in the group chat the second my numbers move.

You tried to make me believe I would be the kid on the sideline forever. I don't believe that anymore. I have raced around the world with my brother. I play basketball. I am participating in the New York City Marathon.

You are part of my story, Diabetes. You were never going to be the whole thing.

If you are where I was at twelve, scared and convinced this makes you different, take this as your sign. You can travel. You can compete.

You can do the big, terrifying things. I am living proof.

— Adam