Content Warning: In the following post I talk about Type 1 Diabetes, disability, ableism, and some other stuff that may not be fun some readers. Also, if I get any facts about diabetes wrong, please feel free to correct me.

For poor, unaware people, Stacey McGill was one of the main characters from Ann M. Martin‘s classic series “The Baby-Sitters Club.” “The Baby-Sitters Club” was a 100+ series of books about young girls in middle school who started in a club to satisfy their town’s baby-sitting needs. Along the way, they had adventures, talked about cute boys, learned to resolve their conflicts, and did some baby-sitting. It was a fun series that made me feel like I could do anything as a young girl if I set my mind to it.

Obviously, I couldn’t do anything because, at the time, I had no idea the depths of my incompetence, but it was nice to receive the encouragement.

One of the characters I find myself thinking about often is Stacey McGill, the club’s treasurer. According to the hosts of the incredible podcast “The Baby-Sitters Club Club,” she had only two characteristics: she was from New York City and had diabetes. She was like the Scott Malkinson of the Baby-Sitters Club – it was all she had to talk about. So I didn’t think much of the character and laughed whenever the hosts of “The Baby-Sitters Club Club” rightfully mocked her. 

Then one of my best friends, someone I really admire, received a shocking Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis at the age of 24, and I stopped laughing. You may think, “Wow, what a douchebag. You could laugh at this joke when it didn’t personally affect you, but now that it does it’s no longer funny?”

To that, I would say, “Yes, exactly that.”

I think there’s something about our society that conditions us to never think about disability unless it’s staring us directly in the face. And when I say “disability,” I don’t mean a single, visible disability, but rather the wide range of disabilities, visible and invisible, that can directly impact a person’s day-to-day life. 

The other day, I was reading an article on a bridal website about hosting an accessible wedding (no, I am not getting married; I was just bored). The advice the article gave was interesting and diverse depending on the disabilities it was trying to accommodate for. A lot of the advice recommended things that a lot of people wouldn’t usually consider: how a single step can make a place unaccessible for those in wheelchairs or how the layout of a restaurant can be confusing for people who have low vision or are blind. However, I’m glad I read this article because it was an important reminder that just because these issues may not cross your mind, it doesn’t mean they’re unimportant. Especially if you’re trying to make people feel included.

And that includes food. I’m not nearly qualified enough to talk about the complex relationships people have with food, but I do feel confident saying that this relationship suffers when certain disabilities, like Type 1 Diabetes, enter the picture. 

To my knowledge, people with diabetes can technically eat anything. However, the autoimmune disease is complicated. A Type 1 Diabetic is unable to produce insulin, a hormone produced by the pancreas that turns food into energy and regulates blood sugar. Eating carbohydrates, aka the sugar molecules that are in LITERALLY EVERYTHING, will raise your blood sugar. If you cannot produce insulin, that blood sugar will continue to rise, but you won’t receive any of that energy. The unrestrained rise in blood sugar can lead to a very not-fun condition known as “Diabetic Ketoacidosis,” in which your blood becomes acidic, and your body starts eating its fat stores in a desperate and futile attempt to get energy. 

If at this point in the story you’re like, “Wow that sounds really crappy,” then congratulations, your thinking is on the right path! Because Diabetic Ketoacidosis is super crappy, and it kills people. It’s why the discovery of insulin was so revolutionary because it is life-saving medicine. This seems like a good time to mention that the discoverers of insulin sold the patent to the University of Toronto for one dollar. It’s something to consider the next time you hear about a vial of insulin costing $250.

After my friend was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, I saw how her life completely transformed. She has had to shoulder a massive mental and physical burden for years. The daily life of a Type 1 Diabetic includes keeping constant track of blood sugar, and checking to make sure it doesn’t get too high (or else you have that Diabetic Ketoacidosis issue), and also ensuring that it doesn’t get too low.

If you don’t know about the fun rollercoaster that is trying to fix a dropping blood sugar, then my goodness, do I have a treat for you! While high blood sugar is super dangerous (aka your blood becomes acidic, and your body starts to eat itself), low blood sugars are also dangerous. 

Have you ever watched the 1989 movie “Steel Magnolias” with Julia Roberts and Sally Field? You know that scene where Julia Roberts prepares for her wedding, becomes hypoglycemic, and has a panicked meltdown until her mom force-feeds her orange juice? 

I wouldn’t call that particular scene accurate, especially given that many people have spoken out against its melodrama and medical inaccuracies. However, I can say that the urgency and panic in the scene feel accurate. Robert Harling wrote the play “Steel Magnolias” in 1987 and based a lot of the events in the play on his real-life experiences, which included the death of his sister from diabetic complications. I can see immediately where the problem lies: it’s not that what happens in “Steel Magnolias” is inaccurate, but rather that it is just one depiction of living with Type 1 Diabetes.

The realities of living with Type 1 Diabetes have changed significantly in the past 35 years. Continuous glucose monitors were invented in 1999, which helped many people know when their blood sugar was dropping so they could get some orange juice or Skittles without alerting the entire beauty parlor. It’s still far from perfect, but it does help. Now instead of a “Drink yer juice, Shelby!” situation, low blood sugar is a bit more like that episode from “Futurama” with the outdated robot that has to continuously run to the water to make sure her wheel keeps spinning. There’s still anxiety there, but it’s a little more manageable.

What I’ve learned from my friend is that people living with Type 1 Diabetes, and other chronic conditions, have to live with a constant mental burden. They have to make hundreds of decisions a day about their food, their activity, and their medicine. These are all considerations that people without these conditions can easily take for granted. 

While “Steel Magnolias” is an entertaining story that tells one perspective of living with Type 1 Diabetes, it doesn’t go into the daily realities of constantly checking your blood sugar, giving yourself insulin, and planning what you’ll eat and when. This is just one reason why we need more disability representation in media. It’s no good when a single movie from the 1980s and a book series about baby-sitters from the 1990s influence the public understanding of a complex autoimmune disease. 

I’m grateful to my friend for helping me understand the complexities of living with Type 1 Diabetes, even if all I can do is try to support her and learn from her.  (And if you’re interested, she did participate in an interview I did a few years back for a media assignment)

I’m especially grateful to her because about a month ago, my sister, Bean, had to be hospitalized for complications with pneumonia and Diabetic Ketoacidosis. Bean spent over two weeks in the hospital battling two illnesses, only one of which has a cure. It’s a harrowing story I don’t feel like sharing today, but suffice it to say those early days in the hospital were terrifying (and it’s also why you readers got a series of sad posts like this one).

Things are a little better a month later, but we’re now learning to help her manage her new diagnosis. We’re facing the reality of living with a chronic condition. Every day, my sister makes hundreds of decisions from the moment she gets up: when to check her blood sugar, when to eat, what to eat, and when to give herself insulin. It’s constant. 

My friend has been an incredible source of wisdom and support. If I had a dollar for every time I’ve said, “My friend does this, so you’re doing this,” to Bean, I might even be able to afford a vial of insulin. 

This experience has been traumatic and overwhelming, but also educational. It makes me think back to when I made fun of Stacey McGill. No, she’s not nearly as cool as Claudia Kishi, Jessi Ramsey, or even Kristy Thomas. Yes, it’s super annoying that being from New York makes up the majority of her personality. And I do think her other attribute of being “boy crazy” doesn’t send the best message to young girls. 

But as for the diabetes thing, yeah, I get it. When you have diabetes, it’s on your mind all the time. For thirteen-year-old Stacey McGill, this is a big part of her life. If she wants to talk about it, then I think we should cut her some slack.