Dear Impossible,
You’re what people tell those with diabetes they shouldn’t try.
I learned that after listening to someone describe their life — not in restrictions, but in motion. Cycling 235km in a single day. Eating freely. Living fully. Refusing to let a diagnosis become a ceiling.
And yet, diabetes isn’t simple. It isn’t linear. It doesn’t follow patterns the way medicine sometimes wants it to. The dose that works today might be wrong tomorrow. Control is never guaranteed. It was described to me like a cat — unpredictable, sudden, sometimes calm, sometimes chaotic. One day it lets you exist beside it quietly. The next, it snaps without warning.
That tension stayed with me.
This piece imagines what it would feel like to place a bicycle on water — to move forward while surrounded by something vast and uncontrollable. There’s anxiety in that. But there’s also trust. Balance. Choice. The decision to keep going even when the ground beneath you isn’t solid.
To me, Impossible isn’t about defying diabetes. It’s about living with uncertainty. About adapting instead of surrendering. About forward motion in the absence of guarantees.
As someone who wants to practice medicine and conduct research, I carry a deep responsibility to understand illness not just as pathology, but as lived experience. Diabetes is not just numbers, algorithms, or compliance. It is daily negotiation. It is resilience. It is learning how to coexist with something that refuses to be fully controlled.
This series exists because stories like these deserve to be seen, translated, and respected.
Some people ride on pavement.
Others learn how to ride on water.
Yours,
Edidiong C
Creating My Autobiography 