As the news of Ron Santo's passing spreads today I'm sure the Cubs blogosphere will be swirling with eulogies about Ronnie and his lifelong passion for the Chicago Cubs.

About the all star third baseman who played the position better than anyone in his era save for a guy named Brooks over in Baltimore.  About the man who longed to be inducted into the Hall of Fame but sadly came to the realization in the last few years that he'd not likely live to see the day happen.  About the radio broadcaster that grunted and guffawed on air much like one of your uncles might while watching the game in their easy chair.

For me though Santo's most lasting impression was his long time battle with diabetes.

Like Ron, I have Type 1 diabetes, also commonly called Juvenile Diabetes.  Type 1 accounts for less than 10% of all diabetic cases out there, with all the others being the much more prevalent Type 2.  With Type 1, the pancreas stops creating insulin for your body altogether and thus you are dependent on insulin injections for the rest of your life.  I consider myself lucky that my onset of the disease didn't occur until I was 21 years old and almost finished with college.  I was able to have a full childhood, free of diabetes and the difficulties that can come with it while growing up.

When I was first diagnosed I had no idea how my life would be from then on.  The immediate assumptions I made were that I would be restricted from many things that others take for granted.  I soon learned that was not the case at all.  I could essentially keep doing everything I did normally, except now I had to give myself shots on occasion and prick my finger a few times a day.

But Ron Santo was one of the first people I saw that helped me realize I could still do anything I wanted.  Having been diagnosed with the disease shortly before joining the Cubs, Ron had to manage it in a time without modern devices that give you nearly instant blood sugar readings or the luxury of synthetic human insulin, and all the while playing professional baseball.  He basically had some syringes and pig insulin and had to figure out most of it on his own.  His ability to persevere through this is astounding to me.  Most importantly it's a true testament to anyone suffering from Type 1 diabetes that the disease is in no way a barrier preventing you from accomplishing anything in your life.  As corny as this may sound, in the early years of my diabetes, whenever someone would tell me I couldn't do something because I was diabetic (more often than not these people were grossly misinformed), I would imagine Ronnie's voice in my head saying to me "You can do anything you want."  That was all the boost I needed when facing discouragement or adversity due to my condition.

It'll be 10 years next spring since I was first diagnosed.  Ron Santo proved to me that diabetes is not a death sentence and certainly not a restriction from enjoying your life.  And I'll continue to remember him when I'm still enjoying life 50 years from now.

Thank you Ron and God bless.

In honor of Ronnie, I wholeheartedly encourage anyone to give a donation to JDRF.