HUNDRED NOT OUT.. I AM STILL BATTING Autobiography of Insulin
Lend
me thy ears and eyes, Oh! my fetal life for
you all on show
One
in eleven in the world, Diabetes, a fact too good to be true,
From
days immemorial, this giant killer has no parallels till now,
Research
points the pancreas, the prime factor of the real woe.
Islets go dry, auto
immune or inherited, failing in its prime duty
Children suffered
a lot, no means to control rising blood glucose,
Death in first
two decades of lives, oft uninvited, turns up for duty
Ligated
pancreatic duct in dogs, dead gland’s sap was of no use.
Banting, this doctor just out of medical
school, did see the plight,
Dissuaded by his mentor, allowed his assistant
to join the fight,
Thought differently, he let islets cells too
in ligation in foresight
Banting and Best scripted my gene, I geared up
for a regal exit.
Many
a dog in sacrifice, a new sap ready for test on a boy of teen
He
was dying, the juice did world of good, got better all the same,
Adverse
scenes from the impure sap, thoughts all set in revision,
Refined
process saw my birth from islets, hence I got my name.
I could at last
give rebirths to many young diabetics with impunity,
Their life extended
by many a decade, I felt pride in my discovery
My arrival
changed the scenario, the world rejoicing relentlessly,
Diabetics had a
renaissance with my birth, needing me endlessly.
In diabetic emergencies, the clinicians seek
my presence eagerly,
Sighing with relief in diabetic coma, and ever
in a surgical remedy,
I had grown up in your midst, still young to
serve you with dignity,
Scored a century of years, a coveted feat in
medical discovery.
I am undefeated, indefatigable,
going strong with all my cousins,
Serving the
diabetics with pride, enhancing their lifespan encore,
On my centenary
year, I am still a humble hormone in your islets,
Will come out
from factory, if thy inputs are poor, thy needs more.
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