I already had plans Saturday afternoon, but with a dumping of snow last week, all I wanted was to get to the mountains. Dad and I got to the mountain an hour before it opened. We were at the top before it technically opened and we skied all morning. Getting there so early allowed us to ski and ski and ski some more. We had one or two runs left, and I was getting hungry. Have you ever skied by a fragrant waffle house? It’s really hard to do, but most days I manage. This was the day I decided that I wanted to indulge though. I was standing in line behind a teenage boy. I think he was just as excited as I was. Someone yelled “Is that part of your new diet kid?! (They used his name, but 1. I wouldn’t share it with you & 2. I don’t remember.) He turned around and glared. The other man standing with the yeller said “Does he have diabetes?” The kid turned around with a “holy shit” look on his face. I wanted to ask if he did in fact have diabetes, but he looked pretty pissed.
If he does have diabetes and if he is newly diagnosed, I hope he is doing okay. I hope he knows that life becomes much more connected. I hope he knows that he’ll learn to know his body more than he realizes. I hope he knows that there are people who love him, for the sole fact that we have the same autoimmune disease. I hope he knows that he shouldn’t eat sugared waffles all the time, but damn they’re delicious as a treat.