t1d: a short, personal horror story (non-fiction)

It’s been awhile. Shit has happened. Maybe I’ll get back to writing these Medium posts more regularly. Maybe this will be a one-off for awhile. It’s certainly not going to be polished.

In the background of my absence, there’s been a manuscript draft. But that’s not the reason for my delay. That manuscript is a work of fiction; I’ve been absent because of a non-fiction horror story about a monster.

And by the time I had enough breath to talk about it, I didn’t really have words left for it. It’s certainly past due. Not everything comes at the right time, you know? So, here’s to a poorly-worded, unpolished glimpse into the battle we’re currently “winning-sorta”:

Fighting the T1D Monster:

There’s a monster after our blood.

At least we’re not alone. There’s a monster-fighter’s group. In the group, we share things. Updates, stories, scars. All these shared things have a common thread, or, rather, a common stream. Blood. It’s life and it’s death. It’s central to the group. It’s what the monster goes for.

This is T1D.

On November 29th, 11-year-old Evie Alice took a nap at school. She saw her school nurse, her doctor, and her therapist all within the week prior. No one saw it coming.