“Daddy, will I always have Type 1 Diabetes?”
My son asked me that from an ER bed. In an instant, his childhood shifted into finger pricks, monitor alarms, and a lifetime of counting carbs with insulin shots. I didn’t have a good answer for him. I was still trying to keep my eyes from tearing up.
A year earlier, my own body had turned on me with a Type 2 diagnosis, and I retreated to the swimming pool to heal. After his diagnosis, the pool became our shared sanctuary—the one place vast enough to hold both our grief and our strength. In the water, we are weightless. Yet, we can’t hide from the reality here either; the vigilance doesn’t stop, and the fear never truly disappears. But the water holds that weight for us.
The Invisible Current explores the quiet depths of carrying a lifelong condition as a family. What looks like calm from the outside is an illusion. The unseen current pulls relentlessly, demanding constant watchfulness and silent work. That hidden place is where diabetes lives, where we fight to stay afloat, and where we learn to swim together.
