The summer after my freshman year at college, I had jaw surgery. I spent one night in the hospital and one night was plenty. The surgeon, a large arrogant man, did an amazing job readjusting my jaw, however, he almost killed me by trying to manage my blood sugar levels as opposed to letting me do so myself.

I told the nurses, through my swollen, aching mouth, that I needed my insulin from my bag, because it was time to take my Lantus (long-acting) insulin. The nurses said they didn’t see...