Recent excitement about “Barbie with diabetes” has sparked widespread conversations. That's a good thing. Consciousness is important. Expression is important. Also, in children newly diagnosed with type 1 diabetes (T1D), seeing a doll like Barbie living in the same condition can be elated.
But there's no mistake. This article is not about Barbie.
Many years ago, a woman named Julie co-founded a company called Pump Wear, long before Barbie got a CGM or insulin pump. The company not only provides fashionable and functional clothing to insulin pump users, but also created toy-sized medical devices that children can attach to dolls and stuffed animals. Great concept: Show your children your reality and reflect them in your beloved toys.
Pump wear has been tried for years to get traction. They had a vision. They had passion. However, it was difficult to maintain it, and despite their efforts, the company ultimately closed its doors.
The same fate met Sugar Baby. This is a doll once available with a small red dot that will help children practice insulin injections. Like the wear on the pump, the sugar baby eventually disappeared from the shelf.
So I can't help but wonder: Will “Barbie with diabetes” quietly disappear once media talk fades?
That's a cycle we've seen before. But that doesn't mean that the needs have disappeared. On the contrary, children with T1D need to see themselves reflected in the world. They still need to be understood, accepted and not so solo.
But perhaps now we can do more. Maybe we could do better.
I will never forget that I attended a diabetes conference many years ago. There, a woman who lives with Miss America, Nicole Johnson and T1D, was on her knees to talk to a young girl. On the child's head was an actual tiara worn by Nicole on the night he crowned. But it was the conversation, not the crown that stood out. They talked about their CGM. Those insulin pumps. Their lives. Nicole told the girl she could do anything. That T1D couldn't stop her unless she lets her do that.
The girl's eyes have grown bigger. You could see it. The belief has just taken root.
That's the kind of connection we need more.
Recently, we're talking more about the effects of diabetes on your mental health. But far too often mentorship and peer support are treated as an afterthought. What would you do if they were the first step?
What if there was an organization with one mission? Navigating this diagnosis alone is to make sure no one is there. A place where thriving adults with T1D coincides with newly diagnosed children. A place where celebrities, athletes, community leaders and everyday heroes can share stories and provide guidance. Where struggle comes with strength. Separation is replaced by attribution.
No, it's not as appealing as fundraising breakthrough research. Nothing gets headlines as much as mass screening efforts. But it could change your life in the same way.
And I bet on this: the data shows that children with mentors have better A1Cs, better coping skills, and better lives. And are they mentoring? They will grow too.
This is not about dolls.
That's about us.
It's about showing everyone in T1D that they're not alone. Not now. So far.
I'm a diabetic dad. Visit the Diabetic Dad's FB page and click “Like.”
Tagged diabetes, diabetic dad, diabetes inspiration
