In middle school science projects, I always saw ripe opportunity to experiment on myself. Any project could be turned into a diabetes experiment. From eating without doing insulin to testing which candy kicked in the quickest, these assignments always garnered sympathy and good grades. Any reflection on my manipulation of the system by my peers warranted that I take umbrage at their accusations. And I did.
The resentment was ephemeral, as many of them had their attention pulled by Nature herself, at bright shiny scalpels in the next unit. Plus, I was good at blending in when times were tough, paring my encounters in those small classrooms with ease. But, it came to be that I came to use a doctrinaire when it came to diabetes. It became the first place my mind wandered to when an assignment in any classroom came to be.
Where am I going with this?
Our Government is inundated with pleas for grant money, money for research and the betterment of people's lives, and yelps when those pleas are never made tangible. In an economy that is looking for money in every corner and crevice of this nation, money is slipping into causes like Education, Health and Human Services, and Botanic Gardens. But what is the efficacy of these pleas when we have the experimental subjects in our own beds? If they cannot call because of their devotion to other causes, why should we not do the tests ourselves? They are easy, quick (at most lasting a week), and will cost very little (nothing except a few hours of terrific pain). If we look at the life of a diabetic, we can see that their lives are often enhanced by such enterprising endeavors. Why, we learn from those pieces of data, especially the ones that are painful-- those are the most like living on Pavlov's farm.
What we all need is to stop looking to the government, the key-holder to all money in this country, and start living frugally. This certainly extends into diabetes research. What we can discover ourself is far more valuable and gives us the ability to give back to the government by sharing our findings with them. Now, the prime age for these experiments is in middle school, when the assignments are plentiful, and the kids are more than able to bounce back from such trying experiences. After all, these children seem to deflect their traumatic experiences like water off a duck's back.
Here is a proposal for experimentation, and while it is fairly specific and longer than usual, it stands to bear fruit for our knowledge on diabetes.
This is for those that take Lantus. Stop taking it. Stow it away in the back of your refrigerator, behind the forgotten cheese and orange juice since separated. If you take the insulin in the morning, rising early as not to lose your faculties at night, mark those nightly occasions after you stop taking the Lantus. If you take it at night, check for ketoacidosis in the mornings. And after you've done this for a month, dyspeptic, your mouth is desiccated, and you can feel your temper rising and desire for arachnid repellent beneath your skin and in your hair, record the outburst on the first person to provoke you. Then start taking the Lantus again and record these emotions with the same trepidation.
Our effort is not impetuous. It does not militate against our need for doctors or constant health assurance, like unintended forfeitures of attention can do. While I would love to be an exponent for this cause, possibly lionizing my stature, I feel my proclivities are more inclined an iconoclasm. I am experimenting all the time, especially on the convenience of forgetting shots, and going months without a *** of the finger, so my energies are quite devoted elsewhere, that I would never be able to follow the rigorous schedule of this program. Also, I could not possibly imagine passing a liver test, so these experiments could further damage my fragile organ.
Wow Josh. My first thought is of your parents. If they were aware of your experiments I bet they went nuts with worry. Now you got me thinking that my son might do stuff like that behind my back one day. He is very bright already and I can see him excelling in academics and being creative with his conditions.
My first thought is that you have made a proposal that, to the best of my understanding, is already in practice. There are quite a few laboratories currently employed to the noble practice of your present experiment: Mr. Smith, dedicated epidemiological endocrine ontologist, nascent exemplar, is but one among perhaps tens, hundreds, of the manner of adventurous person strongly invested in the pursuit of extant data on the duration of one potato's worth of medication--a day or a week, one wonders--in the living specimen type 1 person. His records somewhat negligible as of late, Mr. Smith remains as dedicated as ever, a tireless devotion overcoming his usual torpor, a final commentary on his ever-present commitment to that noblest of all institutions, the unparalleled health insurance company. To progress, I and Mr. Smith join your proposal in avid dedication. Sincerely yours.