to palooze: v. the act of people with malfunctioning pancrei and their caregivers coming together for cupcakes, support, and fun
In the last few weeks, I've had the pleasure of meeting some old friends for the first time. (That may sound like a peculiar sentence, but anyone who is part of the diabetes community and has found themselves immersed in a deep discussion about the emotional impact of this disease with an otherwise complete stranger understands the connection between PWD.)
A few weeks ago, in Boston, I had dinner with Harry Thompson. (He's @harrythompson on Twitter.) Our diabetes is about the same age, and our daughters are, too. Our spouses are supportive and amazing, and our collective appreciation for a good pun is unparalleled. We spent a few hours exploring Boston and the North End, and we drank cappuccinos made from an old-fashioned coffee robot. (More on that some other time, because if I try to explain it here, I'm sure to become confused again.) But it wasn't weird ... it was comfortable, despite the fact that we hadn't met in person until that night. Harry is awesome, in every freaking way. (No photo, though, which I'm regretting. We just forgot!)
And over this past weekend, I trekked into New York City with Briley and Karen to meet up with Simon and a whole pile of other PWD for what's become this strange Simponpalooza phenomenon. It's hard to explain how and why people with diabetes forge a friendship that's instant and lifelong, despite differences. It's harder still to explain to people why a man would want to fly halfway around the world to meet a bunch of strangers.
The "tour book," which served kind of as a yearbook for Simon's trip to NYC
Kerri, Jeff, and Briley, and Jeff OWNS this shot. Owns it.
MOST of the group (because Kelly came running in seconds after the shutter clicked)
"Simon says ... be happy!"
Actually, it makes perfect sense.
Thanks for coming to spend time with us, Simon. And thank you to everyone who writes about the friendships found in the diabetes community. Diabetes isn't exactly known for "giving back," but the community of people who live with it are.