Not All Diabetes Can Be Prevented — And That Matters

I did not develop diabetes because of my lifestyle.

I developed it because cancer took my pancreas.

And yet, in a recent exchange with my elected representative, Lindsey Graham, I was reminded just how often our public conversations about diabetes overlook stories like mine.

I am writing this with a simple hope—that we can bring a bit more clarity to how we talk about diabetes, both in everyday conversation and in the policies that shape care for millions of Americans.

A Well-Intentioned Message… With a Missing Piece

After reaching out regarding insulin access, I received a thoughtful and respectful response. In it, there was mention of the importance of “preventing the onset of diabetes.”

It’s a phrase we hear often.

It sounds reasonable. Responsible, even.

But it doesn’t tell the whole story.

When most people hear “diabetes,” they are thinking of Type 2 diabetes—a condition that can sometimes be prevented or delayed through lifestyle and medical care.

But that is not the only form of diabetes.

The Diabetes We Don’t Talk About Enough

There are forms of diabetes that cannot be prevented.

• Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune condition. The body attacks its own insulin-producing cells. There is currently no way to prevent it.

• Type 3c diabetes, which is where I fall, can occur when the pancreas is damaged or removed—often due to conditions like cancer.

In my case, my pancreas was removed to save my life.

In doing so, I became insulin-dependent overnight.

There was no prevention.

No lifestyle change that could have altered that path.

Just a new reality—one that requires insulin every single day to live.

The Numbers Tell a Story Too

In the United States:

• About 1.8 to 2 million people live with Type 1 diabetes

• More than 30 million people live with Type 2 diabetes

• And nearly 96 million adults have prediabetes which puts them at risk for developing Type 2 diabetes

So yes—when we talk about “prevention,” we are often talking about Type 2 diabetes.

But when we talk about insulin access, we are also talking about people like me—

people for whom insulin is not optional.

Type 3c diabetes is believed to account for up to 5–10% of diabetes cases, though it is often misdiagnosed or overlooked entirely.

Prevention Isn’t Always the Right Word

There’s something else worth gently considering—the language we use around disease itself.

When we talk about Type 2 diabetes, it is appropriate to focus on prevention and risk reduction. That is where lifestyle, environment, and early intervention can make a meaningful difference.

But not all conditions fit into that framework.

We don’t typically speak about “preventing the onset” of cancer in such broad terms. Instead, we focus on early detection, treatment, and ultimately, the hope of a cure.

In much the same way, Type 1 diabetes—and forms like Type 3c diabetes—are not conditions that could have been prevented. They are conditions we are still working to fully understand, to better manage, and one day, hopefully, to cure.

When we use the same language for all forms of diabetes, we risk oversimplifying something that deserves greater care and precision.

Because for many of us, the goal was never prevention.

The goal is living well—and one day, perhaps, living free of it altogether.

This Isn’t About Blame

I want to be very clear—this is not about criticism.

Our elected officials carry enormous responsibility. They are asked to understand complex issues across countless areas, all at once. It is not realistic to expect them to know every nuance of every condition.

But it is reasonable to hope that, when shaping policy—especially policy that determines access to something as essential as insulin—we take the time to understand who we are talking about.

And perhaps even more importantly, how we are talking about them.

Why Language Matters

When we use broad language like “preventing diabetes,” we unintentionally blur important distinctions.

We risk:

• Oversimplifying a complex set of conditions

• Reinforcing misconceptions

• And overlooking the lived experiences of those who did nothing to cause their disease

Clarity doesn’t divide us—it deepens understanding.

And understanding leads to better decisions, better policy, and ultimately, better care.

A Gentle Invitation

I live a rich, full, and active life. I am fortunate in many ways, including having access to the care I need.

But I also carry a deep understanding of what it means to rely on insulin to stay alive.

And I know that not everyone has the same access or support.

So this is simply an invitation—

To our policymakers.

To our media.

To all of us.

Let’s speak about diabetes with a bit more care, a bit more precision, and a bit more awareness of the lives behind the language.

Because when we understand something more fully,

we are better equipped to care for one another.

Not everything in life can be prevented.

Some things arrive uninvited, unexplainable, and unchangeable.

But within that reality, there is still something we can reach for—understanding, compassion, and the quiet, steady pursuit of better.

For some, the goal is prevention.

For others, it is management.

And for many, it is the hope—held gently but persistently—of a cure.

And perhaps the most meaningful thing we can do is learn the difference, so we can care for one another a little more wisely.

Honey Note 🍯

Not everything in life can be prevented.

But understanding… that’s something we can always choose.

I live well. I am cared for. I have access to what I need, and I move through my days with energy, gratitude, and joy.

But I know that is not the reality for everyone.

And I also know that this experience—losing my pancreas, learning to live in a completely new way, finding my footing in a space I never expected to be in—was not given to me without purpose.

Perhaps it was given to me so I could speak.

So I could help bring clarity where there is confusion.

So I could stand, even quietly, for those who are still trying to find their footing, their access, or their voice.

I may be one of the few living a full and active life without a pancreas—but I am.

And because I am, I don’t want to waste it.

If sharing this helps even one person feel seen, better understood, or better supported…

then perhaps that is where something meaningful begins.

With love, curiosity, and a belief that understanding can change everything,

🍯 Honey