It doesn't seem quite possible that it has been this long
Since my immune system and pancreas got it so wrong.
My beta cells keep dying so I wear this pump, you see
It looks so simple but isn't - the math is up to me.
Every day I count, I track, I dose, I worry, I guess
I wear the stuff; I eat the things; I try to do my best
But sometimes diabetes, it has its own agenda
Enigma wrapped inside a mystery, this contend(ah).
How do I bolus for stress? What's the ratio for grief?
The intangibles swarm invisible; flaunting their teeth.
Then again, when things go well and efforts don't seem fruitless
Pancreatic skills degrade; a diabetes hubris.
This means I must stay vigilant; my experience shows
"In range" is often just a rest stop between highs and lows.
This day won't look too flashy but here I'll commemorate
That today marks when my diabetes turns twenty-eight.