I’m OKAY!! Really!?

Wedding Cruise5With the exception of the time we dated in high school, my husband Steve is diagnosed with Type 1 spousal diabetes for just under four years.

It may seem silly but I assumed in all this time he knew diabetes like I did.  I can’t even tell you why I thought he would learn 39 years of living with Type 1 diabetes as I have experienced by observing signs, symptoms and random sharing of how I feel in certain situations.  He has never had formal education in the less than 4 years we have been together.

The moment I understood I need to share my life with diabetes more?

We arrived in Lima, Peru.

After settling on the last leg of our journey we decide to head out in search of a few markets and sites for some art pieces.

On the way back, my pump alarms that my sensor is telling me my blood sugars is 4 mmol/L.  My sugar is going down.  Stupidly, I have no sugar on me…Steve is so good he usually does have lifesavers in his pocket…but he has none.

I feel it is lower than 4 mmol/L.  But I am stubborn.  Steve asks if I want him to go into a store and get sugar.  I say it’s OK .

First, when my sugar trends towards low but I feel like I am not in danger, I don’t treat with rapid acting sugar, I set a temporary basal rate.  I think it’s a control thing.  I want to change the stupid system that really works…just to see if I can make it better.  I am so anti-sugar….I really want to take it…mental block.

So…I say to Steve, it’s okay, I’ll set a temp rate.

And we keep walking.

And several minutes later I become dull.  And quiet.  I lack my bubbly, sunshine Type A personality.

Steve knows but doesn’t know.  He hasn’t experienced such an extreme moment like this.

I personify strength.  Knowledge.  Power.  Ability.  I am never the victim.  He trusts that. Even thought his gut tells him different.

DBB Hypo Peru

So he trusts me and my choice.

Until I mumble I want ice cream.  And he asks further questions.  And I am indecisive and vague.

We end up in a grocery store a few blocks away from our hotel.  He asks me several times what I want to get….I don’t know.  In my mind I want to ask him to help me.  Save me from this terrible prison in my mind of wanting to be in control.  Not to ask for help.  I will take care of myself.  I won’t confess I have failed.  I won’t ask.  I refuse.  I won’t.  I have done this since I was a little girl.  My (mis)behaviour trumps my voice.

I am no good to anyone.  I know it.  I am too far gone to say that.

Steve finally suggests and I agree.

We pay out at the cash and I inhale.

Many minutes later Tracy returns.

Later that night we debrief.  He tells me…”I knew, but I didn’t because you know!”, but I did.  And I failed to tell him.  Thankfully he saw it today. Exactly what I just described.

He tells me “…from now when when you say “It’s okay, I’ll set a temporary basal rate.”  I am going to pop into a store and buy some candies.”

And he will tell me.  “You need this candies”.  And I now I will take them.  Regardless of how bad I want to be in control.  Because, we have this consensual contract.

It’s good to share my diabetes.  A liberation.  Enlightening.  It is a relief to give a very small piece of it to someone else.  Even though it is only a very small piece of what my mind thinks of 24-7-365, if feels good. Despite how much control I want.  And how hard it is to let go.

Meaning

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Meaning

If you didn’t live with diabetes would you be the same person you are today? What has changed about you & your family as a result? Has it been a positive change?

Without a doubt I have a passion & a purpose that I believe would have been more difficult to discover had it not been for living with ‘my’ diabetes. Although there are days I wonder how much more energy (many without diabetes say I have more then they could harness so I hesitate to wish that upon anybody! LOL) as well as how much easier & clearer my mind would be to think & process daily thoughts (that again scares people that if I thought & processed more than I do I would be a very overbearing person). Maybe I am just really good at hiding how crappy I feel somedays. BUT, in the end, I have no regrets or misgivings about being handed this lot in life. Especially now that I sit with peeps & their families that live with diabetes & appreciate that I am their coach. I love sharing my experiences of 38 years of living with diabetes, as well as 13 years as a Mom of a child with diabetes to help others.

On the other hand, I do find at this point in time challenging as a parent of a ‘child’/young adult living with diabetes. At time of diagnosis & since he became a teenager I wish it had never happened or that I could keep him at the age I was able to manage him fairly easily. I tell myself that someday I will not feel that way. He too will find his rhythm, as I did, living with T1 diabetes. I don’t think there is a parent out there that can say that their family, them or their child is better off because of having diabetes.

My Mom’s perspective? Now that she knows I take great care of my diabetes & have a career that I love as a result of it she doesn’t worry as she did years ago. With that being said, I know she still has this ‘old’ diabetes mindset that one day I will announce I have kidney failure or I’m going blind. But as each day goes by I know she sees this will not happen…not in this day in age.

An Unexpected Anniversary

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An Unexpected Anniversary

October 30, 2000 I am in the kitchen baking up Halloween treats for the kids Halloween parties at school. I loved these moments. The excitement, the energy, the creativity. Halloween was so much fun.

But…that day transitioned into a life I never thought I would ever entertain on October 31, 2000. That was the day I learned I would become the parent of a child with Type 1 diabetes.

On the morning of October 31st I got the kids ready for school. I packed the plastic containers with Halloween baked goods & saw them on the bus.

That afternoon as the kids unloaded off the bus & I walked them in the door asking how their day went & how their Halloween parties went, Kurtis say’s the words a parent does not want to hear.

“I didn’t eat any treats today because I felt sick to my tummy & drank & peed all day.”

I felt the energy drain out of my body. I didn’t even have to test him. I knew.

I asked Kurtis if Mommy could poke his finger like Mommy does to test her sugar. He flat out refused. I was on my own so did not have the help of another adult to convince him otherwise. Luckily I happen to still have Keto-Diastix in the bathroom. After I dipped & confirmed what I already knew with 4+ sugar & negative ketones, I placed the call to my GP’s office. He reassured me that based on the fact he had no ketones, take him out for Halloween as usual but don’t allow him to eat any treats loaded with sugar & bring him in first thing in the morning. At that point we would begin the transition to insulin with education to be a parent of a child with Type 1 & subsequently living with it.

Initially, the next 2 nights were the hardest. Halloween involved me trying to portray it was a normal night out with the kids trick or treating. With the exception that my 7 year old baby had just learned he had diabetes like his Mom. He would have to take needles & poke his fingers & have low blood sugars that didn’t look nice. As we walked up the road, from house to house, Kurtis would throw himself on the side of the road belly first & wail “I don’t want diabetes” or “I hate diabetes.”. I would leave him briefly then say as I tried not to cry “Okay Buddy, l know it sucks. Let’s go to the next house & trick or treat.” I honestly didn’t know how else to be. I knew he had to grieve even though it was about something he didn’t quite understand in it’s entirety but knew starting tomorrow he would begin to learn the essence of what living with diabetes was about. He only understood the external ‘bad’ things with diabetes….severe lows, needles & finger pokes. He didn’t yet understand the other side….how he’d feel being low, high, going to the Dr’s the next day to have blood drawn or the complexity of counting carbs, the demand it would have on his body & mind 24-7-365 & the ridicule he would receive at school for years to come.

The next day was emotionally distressing for both of us. I was the only parent present. His father refused to come home from out of town to support this critical event or his family.

While Cayla went to school, Kurtis & I made our way to the GP’s office. After a lot of coercion we finally tested Kurtis’ sugar by finger poke to determine his fasting sugar was 13.5 mmol/L. I blamed myself. I felt guilty. What have I done to my child?

The GP called the Paediatrician’s office & the hospital to arrange an appointment at the Adult Diabetes Clinic as there was no Paediatric clinic at that time.

We knew the Paediatrician from 6 years prior when Kurtis had an anaphylactic reaction to Benadryl & severely ill with chicken pox in which he almost died at the age of 1. We chatted briefly & said to me…”Mom, you have Type 1 & you’re a nurse, you know what to do. I’d rather not put him in the hospital so here’s the prescription for the insulin.” He gave me the dose to give him & sent me off to the hospital to learn how to carb count.

Once at the hospital I sat with the dietician as she taught me how to carb count. The entire visit Kurtis had marker in hand. Standing in front of a flip chart he wrote time & time again in big 7 year old letters “I HATE DIABETES” “I HATE DIABETES” “I HATE DIABETES”. It hurt so much to watch but I knew it was good for him to get it out. Me? I was on robot mode. Survival. Take it in. Learn it. Function. Sacrifice emotion for taking good care of my baby. Helping him through this time so that he accepted & transitioned into such a terrible diagnosis.

Once home, I explained to Cayla what had happened during that day. She was 9 & a mature 9. She grasped it fairly easily & knew she had to step back & let me care for Kurtis for a little while. Closing into supper time I explained to Kurtis that just like Mommy he will test his blood & take a needle. That’s where it didn’t go so well. Testing his sugar was a bit of challenge but doable. He tested at 32 mmol/L. I explained to him that he really needed his insulin to bring his sugar down as I didn’t want to have to take him to the hospital & have someone else do it. He didn’t care. He just didn’t want the needle.

After about an hour of trying to convince him, going into another room & having a little cry on my own, I called my Mom. Knowing she had been through worse then me with my diagnosis, I asked for her help. When Mom arrived my head was spinning, Kurtis was crying & Cayla was trying to keep the calm in a whirlwind of frenzy. I was also angry because his father wasn’t present in a time we all needed him.

In my mind I can still see Kurtis sitting on the kitchen chair on an angle from the table explaining to me in tears how he doesn’t want the needle & his rationale as to why he doesn’t need it. His eyes swollen with tears pleaded to me & it broke my heart. Thankfully my Mom had already been through the heartache of my diagnosis at age 5. She had raised a child with Type 1.

In her calm, she finally convinced Kurtis to let me inject in his arm.

After I got the kids settled to bed, I cried & cried. I felt it was my fault. I caused this.

How did I move forward? My Mom asked me a question that changed my attitude which helped me transition to a Mom accepting she has a child with Type 1 diabetes. “Would you have had him if you knew he would get Type 1?”

No regrets. It sucks but attitude & the choice to transition to a new life is essential to living life with Diabetes Beyond Borders. This year is another Diabeteversary. October 31, 2013 Kurtis has lived with Type 1 for 13 years. The transition continues.

How to Prove You’re Cool with Diabetes

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How to Prove You're Cool with Diabetes

“Did you make any friends?”

After the first day of Kindergarten or starting a new school there are many questions to ask. The answers are usually pretty straight forward. Kids usually come home from school telling of events that occurred with their friends. Some days it is the story of “So and so is not my friend anymore, they did this to me…” or “Look at the picture so and so made for me.” or “So and so gave me their cookies and I traded them my chocolate milk.”

Children are compassionate and caring. They are resilient. Children are honest but also cruel.

As a Mom, I was witness to a mob mentality with a group of Grade 4 boys.

As I mentioned in my blog yesterday, after speaking with the children in Kurtis’ class, it seemed some of the kids would play with him. He now had a small group of friends. Once they knew they couldn’t get diabetes by touching him, they were okay with playing with him.

In October of his Grade 4 year I started Kurtis on an insulin pump. Thankfully his teacher was incredible. She was a classmate of mine from primary and high school. She was very proactive in Kurtis’ care and the learning curve associated with learning how to pump. At that time I worked part-time in the hospital as a nurse in the Intensive Care Unit. The teacher knew she could call me at work or home for questions or concerns. The calls initially were frequent.

Upon starting Kurtis on his pump, I opted to start him on an angled teflon infusion set. I tried a straight-in set but they kept bending causing sudden, extreme highs. I felt the angled set would give us more consistent results. The introducer needle was large enough, depending on where it was inserted, it could be quite uncomfortable. I put EMLA cream on his site one hour before inserting so he wasn’t feeling the discomfort. It worked beautifully.

One afternoon I received a call from his teacher. She sounded excited. She wanted to tell me that Kurtis’ infusion set had ripped out during recess. She was so proud of him. There was no EMLA cream in his kit. Kurtis decided he would insert the Silhouette without it. Mrs. Sperry was awesome. Instead of sending him down to the office or nursing station to change it, she would over see the change. The class was curious to watch.

At this point, the ‘cool’ boys were not as interested in playing with him. This bothered Kurtis. He wanted to play the sport games they played at recess. He didn’t want to just walk around the yard, he wanted to be active. I told him although I understood his need. I also encouraged him to start his own games in the yard, but he wanted to play with the athletic, cool boys.

During the phone call I was told that the kids were so impressed with what Kurtis had done. They talked about it all afternoon. Kurtis had put a really big needle in his stomach. He was SO brave.

Not one Certificate of Achievement could ever make Kurtis feel as proud and accomplished as that day. Days and weeks later, the Grade 4 ‘cool’ boys began to invite him to play at recess. The icing on the cake for Kurtis.

As a parent I had mixed feelings. To me it was a form of intimidation. A child having to go through a form of initiation to be friends with children so he could gain the acceptance and confidence he needed to feel good at school. I understand this happens with all children to some degree, with or without diabetes. I have seen it in a milder form with my daughter.

I had to accept that this was part of learning and life with diabetes. Since those days of Grade 3 and 4, I have hoped and prayed that Kurtis would learn that he should never have to prove himself to anyone because he lives with diabetes. It’s hard to convey that to a child, especially when they feel isolated from their peers because of it. As with many things our children experience, we can teach and guide them, but sometimes they just have to touch the stove to understand it’s hot.

Tomorrow my blog will be on the situations and concerns about Kurtis’ safety with his diabetes at school.

Never Prepared

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Never Prepared

In all the years the kids were in primary and yes, even high school, I only missed one year of their first day of school. In my mind it was a given I would be there. I had to be there so I could take, what would become, the “First Day of School Picture”. It was very important to me and I felt for them, to be there to tell them to ‘have a good day, be safe, I love you’, giving them hugs and kisses before they got on the bus. The picture I took each year measured many things. Growth, happiness, anticipation, excitement, love, memories, health. I wanted to make sure the kids knew that school was a big deal. It was a positive place to be. Learning at school was as important as at home. This is a pic of Cayla, 9, and Kurtis, 7, in September 2000. Today I showed Kurtis the pic. He tells me he doesn’t like the picture, he thinks he looks like a geek. :p

In this photo, Kurtis is less than 2 months away from the day he was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.

Not knowing the ‘stats’, from the time my kids were born, I kept an eye on how much they drank, peed and gained weight. It didn’t occur to me to look up the ‘stats’ on being a Type 1 parent and the chances of ‘passing’ it on to my children until after Kurtis’ diagnosis. According to the American Diabetes Association, the stats read like this:

Both parents (neither have Type 1) have inherent risk factors that contribute to a child developing Type 1.

A child with a Dad living with Type 1 has 1 in 17 odds of developing Type 1.

A child with a Mom that had him/her before the age of 25 has a 1 in 25 chance of developing Type 1.

If Mom has her kids after the age of 25, the odds go up to 1 in 100.

A parent diagnosed with Type 1 before the age of 11 provides a risk of double that their child will develop it.

Regardless of the stats, in my gut I knew. I spoke with other parents who live with Type 1 diabetes that have the same worries as me. But is the effect of the diagnosis the same as a parent that has no idea until diagnosis that their child may develop it?

I try to put myself in my parents shoes as neither one of them have Type 1. Now mind you it was 1975, but hear me out. I am imagining myself as a parent living without Type 1 who has a child that is diagnosed with Type 1. The ‘radar’ saying “I will keep an eye out, just in case.” doesn’t exist. When that day comes. When my very sick child is before me and the Doctor tells me that he/she has Type 1, finally, because heaven knows in this modern-day of technology and knowledge it seems the awareness of signs and symptoms among many health care professionals still does not exist. I am told he/she will take injections of insulin to sustain them for the rest of their life. My mind would spin. I envision myself being whisked off to the hospital or clinic with my very sick child where I would be expected to take a crash course on how to keep my child from having lows so severe they could die and highs so high they become very sick with ketones with the risk of developing long-term complications, possibly dying from these complications. I would be expected to learn how to titrate a medication that is life saving but can cause death if not treated with respect. I have to learn how to poke my precious child with a sharp needle not once a day but several times. What are kids most fearful of? Pain. What do glucose tests and needles cause? Pain. What does a parent try to protect their child from at all costs? Pain.

I can’t tell you it was easier for me. If it was, it would be difficult to relate to the feelings of a parent not living with Type 1 prior to their child being diagnosed. I was ‘blessed’ to have more experience and knowledge. That’s all. At the end of the day, I am a parent first.

Kurtis’ ‘road’ to his diagnosis began 2 years earlier. He was 5, the same age when I was diagnosed. On one particular day he seemed to be drinking and peeing more than usual. I don’t know how, as he was my strong willed child, but I convinced him to poke his finger without much fuss. His blood sugar 2 hours after he ate his meal was 8.2 mmol/L (148 mg/dL). My jaw dropped. My stomach flipped. I called the Family Physicians office immediately. The receptionist told me to check his sugar after having him fast 12 hours. Now, I do have to say, this was not funny at the time but as a parent and now that I speak of it, it is. 16 hours later, I finally promised Kurtis I would take him to McDonald’s. I never took my kids to McDonald’s!! I was SO desperate & scared, I promised if he let me poke his finger I would buy him a McHappy Meal. He agreed. It is now 10am!! He must’ve been starving! Kurtis’ sugar was 4.8 mmol/L (86 mg/dl). I called the Physician’s office to report back. I wasn’t convinced that this made it all right. I had that gut feeling a parent gets when they “know” something isn’t right.

Fast forward to September and October 2000. From the time Kurtis was a baby he had a history of ear and sinus infections. He lived with one ear infection after another. From one sinus infection to another. He would finish one round of antibiotics and would be onto the next.

As usual, Kurtis had a healthy summer. On the first day of school, as pictured, he seemed great, looked healthy. Once exposed to the school environment of germs, sneezes and coughs, his health slowly declined to a point I knew he was going to be sick. Dark shadows under the eyes and very pale. I would keep him on a tight schedule of bedtime and keep him fed well with healthy, home cooked meals. It didn’t seem to matter.

But, this time was different. Kurtis had that ‘look’ I was familiar with. I was perplexed, he wasn’t getting sick. At that time, for his age group, track pants were the fad. He was always a big boy. Always in or over the 90th percentile in height and weight for his age. When he had a growth spurt he would get chunky and stretch up. Being 7 years of age, I didn’t weigh him often or become concerned if he thinned out a bit.

October 31, 2000. I had sent Kurtis to school with a plate full of treats for his classes Hallowe’en party. As well as making a point of being there in the morning to put them on the bus, I tried my best to be there to see them come home from school as well. As Cayla and Kurtis walked in the front door, I was excited for them. I looked forward to carving their pumpkins and get dressed up for our night out Trick or Treating. As I prepared and fed the kids their after school snack, in the conversation of asking how their day was, Kurtis’ informs me that he didn’t eat much at his Hallowe’en party because he felt sick to his tummy and peed and drank at the water fountain all day. I wanted to throw up. I knew. I didn’t even have to check him to know. But of course, I did.

After explaining to him my suspicions and what I needed to do to confirm, come hell or high water, Kurtis was not going let me check by finger poke. I did a dipstick of his urine. I wanted to cry. The test strip showed 4+ sugar. It was 4:30pm. I called the Family Physicians office again. In the background I could hear Kurtis crying “I hate diabetes” “I don’t want diabetes”. This time I knew it wasn’t going to be instructions to check his fasting. In my mind at that time, all I could think was, I GAVE my baby diabetes.

I believe my emotions with Kurtis’ diagnosis may be a bit different, but not much then parents who don’t have diabetes. In the end, I have come to terms with the fact, it doesn’t matter. It is what it is. BUT, with that being said, and why I write this post is that there are two things I learned that I want to pass onto you. Whether you are a parent that has ‘passed’ on Type 1 to your child or parents that carry those dreaded inherent genes that we know little about ….

1. I cried to my Mom many times about the fact I ‘gave’ Kurtis diabetes. I felt SO guilty!! Being the amazing Mom she is, do you know what she asked me? “So, if you were to chose whether you had Kurtis or he had diabetes, which would it be?” OH MY!! There is no choice! I would have him a thousand times over!!

2. A year later of Kurtis & I grieving (separately mind you, he never saw me grieve) he would sit on the couch trying to inject himself (he insisted) for a minimum of an hour morning and night. I would listen to him cry and wail about how much it hurt and he can’t do it and he hates diabetes …so painful to watch. I finally realized I was enabling him to be pitied for something he had no control over. I don’t believe in enabling people to be pitied. I then realized I needed to empower him. I told him he had no choice. I told him it sucked living with diabetes BUT he could do whatever he wanted to do! I asked him if he saw me wailing and crying over taking my needles? Did he see me feeling sorry for myself? I told him I would no longer tolerate pity. He could share his feelings but could not use his diabetes for pity.

Our human compassion binds us the one to the other – not in pity or patronizingly, but as human beings who have learnt how to turn our common suffering into hope for the future. Nelson Mandela

Yesterday and Today

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Yesterday and Today

In 1975, I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes after months of my Mom telling our family doctor something was really wrong.

He insisted it was a cold & I would recover in time.

Finally, after several months of symptoms such as wetting the bed at night (after having been toilet trained for years), having to pee before we got to the end of the driveway for a walk, weight loss (my Mom says my ribs stuck out, she thought when she picked me up she would break them), extreme thirst & sitting on the toilet crying because it burned so bad when I peed, my Mom felt relieved as she thought she knew what was wrong…. I had a bladder infection.

After the refusal of our family Doctor to see me anymore and upon the firm insistence of my parents, I was finally seen by another Doctor. When they dipped my urine for an infection, instead, they found large amounts of ketones. I was rushed to the hospital. I was also diagnosed with Whooping Cough. I was hospitalized for 10 days. Back then my Mom couldn’t stay with me overnight. I still remember that stay. It was very traumatic. I missed my Mom so much. I hated when she left each night.

I was just weeks shy of my 6th Birthday & weighed a mere 31 lbs (14 kg). I was started on 1 injection in the morning of Lente & Toronto insulin. Both insulins were unpredictable. The needle length went into my muscle instead of my subcutaneous tissue making the unpredictability worse, but there was no one then who was aware that a 13mm needle was too long for anyone, big or small. My Mom tested my sugars by urine through a dipstick. The goal was to have a dipstick with Trace sugar & no ketones. I did not receive my first glucose meter until I was 11 based on the cost which was about $200.

Based on my diagnosis, experiences, changes & the management I have experienced throughout the years, I am thankful for so many things:

1. My parents were told I would never have children. Although at the time I announced my pregnancies there was a lot of worry, I successfully have had two pregnancies (although very challenging) & two beautiful children.

2. I am blessed to have no complications after 37 years, which is rare.

3. I am living in a time where the technology advances in managing diabetes are becoming available faster then we can acquire them but provides the opportunity to get access to & manage it better.

4. We seem to be closer to a technology that allows for less management on our part & the reliance on bio feedback mechanisms that will reliably do most of the work for us.

5. Pharmaceutical companies that create, manufacture & produce insulin, such as Novo Nordisk Inc., are creating programs which offer easier access to children living with Type 1 diabetes living in developing countries that otherwise would not have it and risk dying due to affordability & access. Much still needs to be done about this (one of my passions) but the movement by corporate has started to fill this huge gap.

6. The choices and dissemination of media communication and access is the forum for supporting curiosity, access, acquisition of knowledge and action with regards to living with diabetes. This is essential to empower people living with such a complex disease.

7. I have been blessed to be part of a network with many gifts, experiences & an education that enables me to practically & clinically share with each of you, no matter where you live, what is needed to live with Diabetes Beyond Borders.

Looking Back – Being a Teen with Type 1

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Looking Back - Being a Teen with Type 1

I know what it is like to grow up as a kid & teen living with Type 1 diabetes. It’s tough!

I’m going to give you a snapshot of how I lived life with diabetes as a teen….

First, I had a huge, gigantic glucose meter. See the pic! I had the blue one for many years. There was NO way that thing was going with me anywhere. I hated testing! The test strips of this meter took a ton of blood compared to today. The finger pricker had no dial! It had one setting. When it made contact with my finger it felt like it went through it. If anyone has been to diabetes camp & used the single use, disposable prickers, you know what I mean! It took 2 minutes for the test. I had better things to do then stand in front of my meter for 2 minutes to wait for a number…so guess what I didn’t do a lot of? Test!! I mean, I knew how I felt. I could manage my diabetes without having to look at a number! At least that’s what I believed at the time.

Secondly, even though I only had to take needles twice a day, I hated it. They hurt! The needles on the syringes that I used were 13mm long. Now, the word “millimetres” sounds small but if you take out a ruler & measure 13 mm & imagine that going into a lean body with little fat, it goes directly into the muscle. I was small at 115 pounds & 5’1″. I always took my insulin, the only time I didn’t inject was when I truly forgot. Then I would call my Mom & she would bring it to me…usually at school or work. I knew I couldn’t live without my insulin.

Next, I didn’t eat much. I now know that many young girls & even women will decrease their insulin dose and run slightly higher or stop eating as many calories to keep their weight down. It is known, insulin makes one fat. It’s not that this was my intention or that I was aware of that at the time but I figured if I didn’t eat as often, my sugars dipped low so I could eat McDonald’s or candies. “Back then” (boy I sound old!) there was no carb counting to allow for ‘treats’. There was also no ‘correction doses’. If you were high, you dealt with it until it came down on its own with the insulin you had on board.

I didn’t think about my diabetes much. I remember being terribly embarrassed when I had lows. I hated having attention drawn to me. I remember being tired a lot. I fell asleep in class in high school a lot. I had a hard time focusing.

The one thing I didn’t do when I was a teen was drink alcohol. My Mom scared the life out of me about what it could do to me and my diabetes, that I am thankful for. It was one less variable I had to deal with.

With that being said, at the age of 16, my parents found me in bed one morning, lying in my vomit, barely responsive. That night I had been out with my boyfriend & when I came home I was really, really tired. Instead of testing before bed, I crashed. Little did I realize, because I hadn’t tested, I was very low before I had even climbed into bed.

Laying in a hospital bed with an excruciating headache, the next day was the beginning of realizing my diabetes needed my attention. Pretending it wasn’t there and omitting what needed to be done to manage it was not serving a purpose. I was punishing myself. I was letting my diabetes take control of me.