January 2026

When I completed high school in 1965, three career options awaited me: secretary, nurse, teacher. I had the skills for the first, having spent the summer I turned twelve taking typing and shorthand at a business school, but I lacked interest in the job. My fear of blood and needles eliminated nursing from my future. Thus, I became a teacher—a profession that fulfilled me for more than four decades.

Dear readers,

When I was thirty years old and in my first year of medical school, I came down with symptoms–extreme thirst and frequent urination–that turned out to be type 1 diabetes, formerly known as juvenile onset. My body wasn’t producing any insulin, and I was hospitalized.

During my five-day stay, I had to make some adjustments and learn a few things. The biggest adjustment was this: I had to accept that without insulin injections, I would die and that unless I controlled my blood sugar well, I could suffer all kinds of serious complications from diabetes–and then die.

The people who eased my way into this new life were nurses.