I’m sitting on the porch of my small apartment, the sun beating down on this sweltering July afternoon.
A peach rests in my hand, its sweet scent mingling with the sticky air.
I peel it slowly, the juice running over my fingers, feeling both comforting and unsettling.
I just found out that this summer fruit, which I’ve been eating every day to stay cool and indulge a little, raises my blood sugar faster than pure sugar.
That knowledge bubbles quietly in my mind, unexpected and unsettling, like it’s poking at something I’ve been ignoring.
It’s not just about the fruit, but what it means for me now—living with type 2 diabetes.
My mornings start early.
I check my blood sugar levels, take my medication, and try to walk the tightrope between treating myself and following the diet my doctor laid out.
My work at the local library is steady, but it doesn’t leave much wiggle room to manage all the appointments, tests, and dietary rules.
Meals are often rushed or grabbed on the go, and summer is when peaches, cherries, and melons flood the local market—all tempting and everywhere.
My endocrinologist, Dr. Harris, holds the power here.
She sets the rules—what I can eat, how often I come in for checkups, what my target blood levels should be.
But every time I raise questions about how fruit fits into my diet, she shrugs it off or cuts the conversation short.
“Fruit is natural,” she says.
“Just watch your portions.”
The way she dismisses my concerns leaves me feeling like I’m not fully heard, as if my experience with these sudden sugar spikes is just anecdotal and not worth digging into.
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