Not Confessions - Diabetes Stories

more than confessions

7 notes

Ahoy!

Well, I do apologize for the long interim. My job right now is in what I’d like to call high season, and part of the reason why I was hired (though I hope to stay hired), so I’m routinely getting up at 5am to go running, getting in at work at 8am, and leaving work at around 8pm. So needless to say, I’m quite busy and tired.

But, around last week I was sniffing around for options for an insulin pump, since it’s been recommended to me ever since endocrinologists started taking the super-tight diabetes control thing seriously. My blood sugar is impossible to manage. I have my specific insulin formulas, how much to put according to carbohydrates and my level, but it never fails. I put the exact amount I need and I go too low. I put two or three units less because I don’t want to get too low and instead I’m at 300 two hours later.

Needless to say, the ultra-precise control an insulin pump can give me would be beneficial, but it’s $5000 price tag is not. The closest I could find in terms of donations was a foundation that could provide me a recertified pump from Medtronic for about $800. That’s great, actually. I still can’t get it right now though. It’ll have to wait till next year. And I’ll need to figure out how to afford infusion sets.

But! Here where I live, the local diabetes association has an event they hold every November to raise awareness on diabetes (both types), and they have a 5K running marathon, which I’ve signed up. So wish me luck! I’ll post the T-shirt I got, plus how my training is going for it as I go along. And, of course, pictures of the event, which is November 20th.

Have a good week guys!

Filed under running marathon insulin pump insulin diabetes type 1 diabeticstories

4 notes

Anyone using Apidra?

I’ve been on Humalog since I was diagnosed in 2008 (Lantus for XR) and recently my numbers hadn’t been that great, though I was still dosing for every meal. So my nurse practitioner had me try this new type of insulin, Apidra, in place of Humalog. So far it’s been great and I just wanted to share my story and wanted to know if anyone else has been put on it or has heard of it. It onsets much faster than Humalog too, and I didn’t have to change my dosage at all! Plus my numbers have been much better! (Though I’m still having frequent morning lows.) :/ But I love it regardless!

Filed under submitted submission

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That’s the two insulins I’m currently using: Novolog (which is supposed to be Humalog but I kinda goofed up when asking for a spare prescription from my doctor), and Levemir. For those just tuning in, the Novolog is a short-acting insulin, which I take with meals (the insulin you non-diabetics make when you eat a meal), and Levemir is a long-acting insulin, which in my case I inject at night, and is my “steady” insulin (which would be the constant level of insulin you’d normally have in your body). Now, pleasantries aside, I suddenly came back to the topic of insulin from a more personal, every day angle, rather than a political one. As I’ve stated before, I’ve been a Type 1 diabetic for 14 years now, so injecting insulin anywhere is second nature for me at this point. But it wasn’t always like this. For quite some years after being diagnosed, I was quite terrified of taking my blood sugar or putting my insulin on anywhere that wasn’t my house, and as a last resort, a bathroom. I guess I just wanted personal space, since I hated the questions and the reactions I’d get if I chanced to do it in public. But, as with nearly everything, university came around. And I wasn’t living with my parents’ anymore or under their care. And I wasn’t in a school building from 8am to 4pm. There’d be plenty of times where I would just forget and injected my insulin on the fly in the middle of a food court. Or I’d be out at 1 or 2am, and I’d need to inject Lantus (which I used to use). Or I’d just say “screw this”, and sleep all Saturday. Things like that made me quickly change my mindset when it came to insulin, and I learned to just inject, especially if it was Novolog/Humalog since I use those in pen and they attract much less attention than, say, the vial and syringe of my Lantus/Levemir. So, as an adult now (and by the way, it was really weird calling myself an adult right there), it’s no big deal at my current job. No one’s pointed it out or asked weird questions. Just one coworker, and it was only to say, “oh, diabetic right?” and that was it. And now I learn, it doesn’t matter if I inject in front of everyone, just the attitude I use when I do it. Speaking of work, it’s eating me alive at the moment. Sorry for the lack of updates! But remember you can put through your own submissions. Have a good week guys! I’ll do my best to write a new entry before the week is out.

That’s the two insulins I’m currently using: Novolog (which is supposed to be Humalog but I kinda goofed up when asking for a spare prescription from my doctor), and Levemir. For those just tuning in, the Novolog is a short-acting insulin, which I take with meals (the insulin you non-diabetics make when you eat a meal), and Levemir is a long-acting insulin, which in my case I inject at night, and is my “steady” insulin (which would be the constant level of insulin you’d normally have in your body).

Now, pleasantries aside, I suddenly came back to the topic of insulin from a more personal, every day angle, rather than a political one. As I’ve stated before, I’ve been a Type 1 diabetic for 14 years now, so injecting insulin anywhere is second nature for me at this point. But it wasn’t always like this. For quite some years after being diagnosed, I was quite terrified of taking my blood sugar or putting my insulin on anywhere that wasn’t my house, and as a last resort, a bathroom. I guess I just wanted personal space, since I hated the questions and the reactions I’d get if I chanced to do it in public.

But, as with nearly everything, university came around. And I wasn’t living with my parents’ anymore or under their care. And I wasn’t in a school building from 8am to 4pm. There’d be plenty of times where I would just forget and injected my insulin on the fly in the middle of a food court. Or I’d be out at 1 or 2am, and I’d need to inject Lantus (which I used to use). Or I’d just say “screw this”, and sleep all Saturday. Things like that made me quickly change my mindset when it came to insulin, and I learned to just inject, especially if it was Novolog/Humalog since I use those in pen and they attract much less attention than, say, the vial and syringe of my Lantus/Levemir.

So, as an adult now (and by the way, it was really weird calling myself an adult right there), it’s no big deal at my current job. No one’s pointed it out or asked weird questions. Just one coworker, and it was only to say, “oh, diabetic right?” and that was it. And now I learn, it doesn’t matter if I inject in front of everyone, just the attitude I use when I do it.

Speaking of work, it’s eating me alive at the moment. Sorry for the lack of updates! But remember you can put through your own submissions.

Have a good week guys! I’ll do my best to write a new entry before the week is out.

Filed under diabeticstories insulin type 1 diabetes novolog levemir school work

48 notes

When I first started insulin, it was with good old vial and syringe. I’d eventually switch to both reusable and then disposable pens, but for the most part, the first and only carrying case I had for insulin for ten years straight was a blue one that said HUMILIN all across it. And you know, I never gave it another thought. I had that for the insulin, I had my monitor’s case and that was that. Until the blue case broke, as in, it died. And then I was sad. Because I realized how reliable that case was. My insulin pens and vials never broke, I never lost it, and it kept my insulin safe. So of course the next two cases I’d get I would lose immediately. Figures right? So I’ve spent the last some months without a home for my insulin and just putting them in plastic bags. Which kind of sucked because they kept breaking after a couple of weeks, and that would mean the insulin could fall out, or worse still that they could break. And I still don’t have much money, but I do have a little since I have a job again. So I walked into a Totto store here (it’s a Latin American store that sells backpacks and whatnot, I don’t think you Americans have this), and saw this. And I liked it. And I realized that it could be a new home for my insulin. Also because I already have a backpack for grad school by Totto and it’s extremely reliable. And my insulin now has a new home.

When I first started insulin, it was with good old vial and syringe. I’d eventually switch to both reusable and then disposable pens, but for the most part, the first and only carrying case I had for insulin for ten years straight was a blue one that said HUMILIN all across it. And you know, I never gave it another thought. I had that for the insulin, I had my monitor’s case and that was that.

Until the blue case broke, as in, it died. And then I was sad. Because I realized how reliable that case was. My insulin pens and vials never broke, I never lost it, and it kept my insulin safe. So of course the next two cases I’d get I would lose immediately. Figures right?

So I’ve spent the last some months without a home for my insulin and just putting them in plastic bags. Which kind of sucked because they kept breaking after a couple of weeks, and that would mean the insulin could fall out, or worse still that they could break. And I still don’t have much money, but I do have a little since I have a job again. So I walked into a Totto store here (it’s a Latin American store that sells backpacks and whatnot, I don’t think you Americans have this), and saw this.

And I liked it. And I realized that it could be a new home for my insulin. Also because I already have a backpack for grad school by Totto and it’s extremely reliable.

And my insulin now has a new home.

Filed under diabetes diabeticstories insulin blood glucose monitor case

18 notes

So, me and exercise. It hasn’t always been a very easy friendship, I’ve gotta say. Since when I was diagnosed I had problems with my weight, and subsequently lost it all, only to gain it back again, it’s been pretty weird too. I did ballet and running up till high school, which I enjoyed because I thought it was fun. However, I got into a super difficult prep school and my homework tripled. So I stopped having time for it. Also, puberty hit. So I went from being stick thin to getting all these curves and added weight, which I hated. My mom wasn’t very helpful either, even though she realized that I didn’t have time to exercise most of the time. It also didn’t help that I was, overall, not very into sports and athletics because I was slow and got out of breath easily and people took the time to make fun of that and laugh. So college rolled around…and now, not only did I have lots of work, but I was now in the “but it’s embarrasing!” phase of exercise, and thought it wasn’t cool to throw on a tshirt and sweats to go to the gym. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until I had a job to deal with plus classwork that I decided that going to the gym was alright, and that’s what I did. Then I got a job that I hated and I became immensely frustrated and depressed with life afterwards and my motivation for the gym flew out the window. Until this May, when I got that cute iPod Nano as a gift and said screw it. Also quit terrible job. So I both started going back to the gym, as well as running in my local area here in San Juan. And, as a result of all the exercise, I’ve slimmed down and gotten kinda healthier. In the end, whatever personal struggles we have with exercising, what’s important is to find what we like and find motivation for it. I continue working out, even with my new full time job, because it’s a huge stress reliever, I feel great when I reach my personal goals, and it keeps me fit. And my Nano would be sad if I didn’t use it for working out. There’s that.

So, me and exercise. It hasn’t always been a very easy friendship, I’ve gotta say. Since when I was diagnosed I had problems with my weight, and subsequently lost it all, only to gain it back again, it’s been pretty weird too.

I did ballet and running up till high school, which I enjoyed because I thought it was fun. However, I got into a super difficult prep school and my homework tripled. So I stopped having time for it. Also, puberty hit. So I went from being stick thin to getting all these curves and added weight, which I hated. My mom wasn’t very helpful either, even though she realized that I didn’t have time to exercise most of the time. It also didn’t help that I was, overall, not very into sports and athletics because I was slow and got out of breath easily and people took the time to make fun of that and laugh.

So college rolled around…and now, not only did I have lots of work, but I was now in the “but it’s embarrasing!” phase of exercise, and thought it wasn’t cool to throw on a tshirt and sweats to go to the gym. Oddly enough, it wasn’t until I had a job to deal with plus classwork that I decided that going to the gym was alright, and that’s what I did.

Then I got a job that I hated and I became immensely frustrated and depressed with life afterwards and my motivation for the gym flew out the window. Until this May, when I got that cute iPod Nano as a gift and said screw it. Also quit terrible job. So I both started going back to the gym, as well as running in my local area here in San Juan. And, as a result of all the exercise, I’ve slimmed down and gotten kinda healthier.

In the end, whatever personal struggles we have with exercising, what’s important is to find what we like and find motivation for it. I continue working out, even with my new full time job, because it’s a huge stress reliever, I feel great when I reach my personal goals, and it keeps me fit. And my Nano would be sad if I didn’t use it for working out. There’s that.

Filed under diabetes diabetes type 1 exercise diabeticstories

31 notes

Here’s my story. In 1997, my parents decided to move me and my brother back to Puerto Rico (we’re a Puerto Rican family). I’d spent pretty much all my life traveling though, and I barely knew Spanish, but we moved. By then, I was already a victim of bullying, and I was slightly overweight, and I had always been a smart person, so I was nervous about how things would go, especially at school. Things got worse here though. Since I didn’t know much Spanish, and because of my weight, bullying here was even worse. So sometime around January of 1998, I started going to the bathroom a lot. It wasn’t that much at first, but then I’d need to go every hour, hour and a half. And I was always thirsty. But I hid it as best I could, until one time I needed to go to the bathroom, and my teacher wouldn’t let me. And I wet my underwear. So when my mother came to pick me up, the teacher told her what happened. Since my family had a history of diabetes, she already got a sinking feeling of what was wrong. But, she didn’t think it was Type 1 diabetes, which doesn’t run in the family. So, after getting tests done, on that February 28th, a Saturday, my mom took me to the doctor, who broke the news. And while my mom cried and fretted, I didn’t really bat an eye. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t really know what it meant (I probably did, I don’t remember), but I took the news pretty calmly. I took the attitude that I usually take in life: what’s done is done. It was scary, and I didn’t want to think about what my classmates would think of me now, but I pushed myself through. After the first two, I did injections by myself. After the first day, I pricked my own fingers for my blood sugar. I was scared, but I knew that it was something I had to do on my own. And every day after that, it got a little easier, until it became second nature. It was only right now that I stopped to think about how strange it is to have to inject yourself with something to live, how out of place it is. But it isn’t for me anymore. Over the years, starting with those classmates of mine, I’ve had to deal with people not really knowing and confusing my diabetes with Type 2 diabetes. And asking why do I have to take so much insulin. And why am I eating things with sugar. And why can’t I take pills. And is it contagious. And I’m going to die soon. But after awhile, instead of getting angry or sad about it, I decided it was easier to be more open about it when people asked and just explain calmly. Whether they took my word at face value or not isn’t my problem, but I did what I could. I still do. As I mentioned, I had problems with my weight before diagnosis. After I was diagnosed, and in combination with ballet and running, all the weight just vanished. (I know, kind of weird that it would happen after and not before.) But then high school and puberty came by and I gained weight again. And so it’s been a see-saw, a mostly mental and emotional one, pushed by my mother. And as I’m sure a lot of Type 1 diabetic can relate to, it’s difficult to keep weight off when you’re on insulin (which is a big fear of mine with the insulin pump). But lately, I’ve made peace with myself on that too. Since dragging myself back to the gym again after a year of not going, I’ve slowly lost weight, but more importantly, I’ve gotten physically fitter, which I think is a much better reward. However, things haven’t been easy. I became (mostly) independent at 18 when I started college. And there’ve been a lot of times when I didn’t have anything to eat and had no money for insulin or needles or test strips. It’s a miracle I never ended up in the hospital. But I wish I had now, instead of what’s coming for me now. As I’ve mentioned, I have the beginnings of neuropathy. And I’m scared. I leave my hand still and I see it shaking. My feet tickle and hurt randomly. There’s nothing I can do about it, except hope and pray that I don’t lose my (currently temporary) job and can continue to afford care for myself. But this is motivation for me, more than anything. My time is limited. So I can’t waste a second anymore. I have things I want to do in life. I want a home, I want to go to law school, I want to gain permanancy at a job I actually enjoy, and I want to keep on being with my friends and my companion. I want to make my family proud and help them out. I want to change things. So that slight tremble now just reminds me of all this. And I’m glad for it. So that’s my story. I’m a Type 1 diabetic, and have been for 14 years. I don’t have a lot of options, and I’m scared. But I’m still here. So I can only keep on fighting.

Here’s my story.

In 1997, my parents decided to move me and my brother back to Puerto Rico (we’re a Puerto Rican family). I’d spent pretty much all my life traveling though, and I barely knew Spanish, but we moved. By then, I was already a victim of bullying, and I was slightly overweight, and I had always been a smart person, so I was nervous about how things would go, especially at school. Things got worse here though. Since I didn’t know much Spanish, and because of my weight, bullying here was even worse.

So sometime around January of 1998, I started going to the bathroom a lot. It wasn’t that much at first, but then I’d need to go every hour, hour and a half. And I was always thirsty. But I hid it as best I could, until one time I needed to go to the bathroom, and my teacher wouldn’t let me. And I wet my underwear. So when my mother came to pick me up, the teacher told her what happened. Since my family had a history of diabetes, she already got a sinking feeling of what was wrong.

But, she didn’t think it was Type 1 diabetes, which doesn’t run in the family.

So, after getting tests done, on that February 28th, a Saturday, my mom took me to the doctor, who broke the news. And while my mom cried and fretted, I didn’t really bat an eye. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t really know what it meant (I probably did, I don’t remember), but I took the news pretty calmly. I took the attitude that I usually take in life: what’s done is done.

It was scary, and I didn’t want to think about what my classmates would think of me now, but I pushed myself through. After the first two, I did injections by myself. After the first day, I pricked my own fingers for my blood sugar. I was scared, but I knew that it was something I had to do on my own. And every day after that, it got a little easier, until it became second nature. It was only right now that I stopped to think about how strange it is to have to inject yourself with something to live, how out of place it is. But it isn’t for me anymore.

Over the years, starting with those classmates of mine, I’ve had to deal with people not really knowing and confusing my diabetes with Type 2 diabetes. And asking why do I have to take so much insulin. And why am I eating things with sugar. And why can’t I take pills. And is it contagious. And I’m going to die soon. But after awhile, instead of getting angry or sad about it, I decided it was easier to be more open about it when people asked and just explain calmly. Whether they took my word at face value or not isn’t my problem, but I did what I could. I still do.

As I mentioned, I had problems with my weight before diagnosis. After I was diagnosed, and in combination with ballet and running, all the weight just vanished. (I know, kind of weird that it would happen after and not before.) But then high school and puberty came by and I gained weight again. And so it’s been a see-saw, a mostly mental and emotional one, pushed by my mother. And as I’m sure a lot of Type 1 diabetic can relate to, it’s difficult to keep weight off when you’re on insulin (which is a big fear of mine with the insulin pump). But lately, I’ve made peace with myself on that too. Since dragging myself back to the gym again after a year of not going, I’ve slowly lost weight, but more importantly, I’ve gotten physically fitter, which I think is a much better reward.

However, things haven’t been easy. I became (mostly) independent at 18 when I started college. And there’ve been a lot of times when I didn’t have anything to eat and had no money for insulin or needles or test strips. It’s a miracle I never ended up in the hospital. But I wish I had now, instead of what’s coming for me now. As I’ve mentioned, I have the beginnings of neuropathy. And I’m scared. I leave my hand still and I see it shaking. My feet tickle and hurt randomly. There’s nothing I can do about it, except hope and pray that I don’t lose my (currently temporary) job and can continue to afford care for myself.

But this is motivation for me, more than anything. My time is limited. So I can’t waste a second anymore. I have things I want to do in life. I want a home, I want to go to law school, I want to gain permanancy at a job I actually enjoy, and I want to keep on being with my friends and my companion. I want to make my family proud and help them out. I want to change things. So that slight tremble now just reminds me of all this. And I’m glad for it.

So that’s my story. I’m a Type 1 diabetic, and have been for 14 years. I don’t have a lot of options, and I’m scared. But I’m still here. So I can only keep on fighting.

Filed under diabetes diagnosis how it happened type 1 diabetes diabeticstories

24 notes

About ‘how it happened’.

Seven years and nine months ago, it all started, it was normal, the temperature I mean, not too cold not too hot that day, which was a little bit odd, considering that it was the 30th of December. I was so young, just starting being socially awkward, not ready for what happened, but no one was actually. My mom came in crying, saying something which I couldn’t quite understand, all I remember is the words ‘they said’, ‘you have to’ and ‘hospital’. The cab driver who was waiting in front of the house was visibly uncomfortable, and the best he could come up with was ‘I won’t charge you for the waiting’ which was nice on his part, he didn’t have to do that, but with two people crying on the back seat I guess he thought it was his responsibility. 

The town’s hospital, the children’s wing, the infusion in the form of a blue butterfly, the nurse whose face I can’t remember, people around me talking… My mothers best friend crying, hearing that my father is on his way to the hospital, not being there at the moment because he lives on the opposite side of the town from us, my parents being divorced and all that. Uncle there somewhere…

‘He urgently needs to be transferred to Belgrade to the University clinic’, and when you mention ‘has to’ and ‘transferred to Belgrade’ it’s never good, everybody knows that. I was lying in the car for almost two hours until we arrived, I could hear the awkward conversation between my mother and the driver, they wanted to look relaxed so I don’t freak out…

All that happened next was expected. The bunch of doctors in white sheets, students coming in my room every morning talking about what they learned and examining me. The first needles, the first ‘Why me?!’ the second, the third… Oranges falling from the night stand by my bed, the little boy in the room next to mine, whose life was so difficult even though he was just 2 years old, he had diabetes, and other rare complications…

His name was Filip, he laughed even though he wasn’t fine. I made silly faces so he could see me trough the glass that was separating our rooms, and he laughed, we were so happy that day, even our blood sugars were the same, 8.5. At that age I didn’t know how serious his situation was, it never occurred to me that something bad could happen to him… A year after all that, when I came back from school, my mother had that ‘everything will be o.k.’ expression on her face, we sat down and she said ‘I need to tell you something, but I need you to promise me that you won’t get sad’, ‘Filip died’ were the words the came out of her mouth. I was in the fifth grade, a grown boy, some would say, but at that moment I felt so miserable and so small, and I cried, I cried, I felt sorry for him, for that little human being,  I couldn’t help but thinking how would his life would be if he hadn’t died, all that he missed, all the ‘joy’s’ of the low and high blood sugar he never knew, I missed him…

Filipe, I hope you’re better up there than you were down here!

Filed under submitted submission diabetes type 1 diabetes diagnosis diabeticstories

20 notes

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn’t even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you’d have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.

This was the closest I’ve been to facing death, and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

Steve Jobs lost his battle to cancer yesterday. Though cancer is a very different condition compared to diabetes, they both share similarities in the lessons and tragedies they can give us.

Jobs made excellent points in his commencement speech at Stanford back in 2005. What I bolded, however, and what I quote overall, has probably the most relevance for us diabetics, particularly Type 1 diabetics. When I was diagnosed on February 21st, 1998, I didn’t really react to it. I wasn’t really scared or nervous or angry. I didn’t feel anything. All I knew was that I’d have to prick my fingers and use syringes to inject this thing called insulin. I wasn’t trying to be brave. I just didn’t know.

As I grew older though, it started to sink in. But it was frustrating. I knew that I could get complications if I had high blood sugar, but it was very difficult for me to keep under control. I became independent when I started college at 18, and scraping money for insulin and test strips was nearly impossible. And here I am now, with the beginnings of neuropathy, and wondering just how will I continue to afford to care for my condition.

Despite that though, Jobs made a point. Death is the ultimate end. None of us will escape it, because we all share that ultimate destiny. And in the end, that is what should push us forward. The knowledge that our time is limited should inspire us to make all kinds of changes, to want to be wild enough to change the world. The realization that death could pop up an any moment makes me want to do good things, to change the world.

Now, that slight tremble in my hands is a reminder that I don’t have any time to waste to make this life a worthwhile one. This Macbook that I’m typing on is proof that someone out there had the vision to create and innovate, and didn’t let his disease stop him. I won’t either. No one should.

So to all the diabetics who read this: let’s keep soldering on. Despite all the obstacles, it will be worth it.

Filed under life death steve jobs disease diabetes cancer diabeticstories