Sometimes I look at people who are healthy and I want to cry.
Sometimes I look at people who are sicker than me and I want to get down on my knees and whisper a million thank yous, one for every blessing I can name, and all the blessings that are bigger than words.
Sometimes I just want so badly to sleep through the night without a thought.
Sometimes I worry that I allow too much fear in my life.
Sometimes I can’t stand the thought of making one more meal, counting one more carbohydrate, giving one more bolus.
Sometimes my fingers hurt, and my stomach blooms with bruises.
Sometimes I feel like life is a constant process of redefining happiness.
Sometimes I wonder what I’ve lost to diabetes.
Sometimes I am overwhelmed by gratitude.
Sometimes I am overwhelmed by distance between diabetes and health.
And sometimes, when I’m outside and the desert sky folds over me like a wing, and the air smells of creosote and mesquite smoke, I feel as whole and sound as I’ve ever felt.