White, black, yellow, mulatto, chicano, Creole—respecter of no race or breed—rich, poor, bourgeois, laborer, banker, professor—no arbiter of caste or class—the genic substrate for the syndrome, diabetes mellitus, has become ubiquitous and in the best of us can be suspected as lying only dormant waiting for the right time—stress, duress, assault, catastrophe, tragedy, holocaust—to precipitate, exacerbate, fly out of control. And now, what infamy, treachery, disaster—accursed gene, source of blight, wrecker of fortunes and families, destroyer of mind and body, warper of life, unsparing of young or old—miserable paradox visited even unto the third generation and after—source of hope, inspiration, intrigue, elan vital for researcher, scientist, clinician who dare to penetrate behind the locked bands of its myth, to tamper with its ways, to bare its merciless bonds, to explain its why and wherefore, to bring relief—perhaps also fame—but relief, succor, aid, help, care, cure, alleviation, remediation, solace, freedom,
Kimball CP. The Patient and Diabetes: Impressions From Dialogues. JAMA. 1972;219(1):83–85. doi:10.1001/jama.1972.03190270053016
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