I’m 29 years old and I was diagnosed with type one diabetes. I eat healthy and am active. Before you ask, no I am not overweight. Type 1 Diabetes is an autoimmune disease that anyone can get, but genetics unfortunately play a part. Lucky me. I’m handling it okay, but the emotions come in waves. This blog is to help me cope and hopefully help others in the near future. I will write about my failures and successes. I want to prove to myself that this is something that I can live with and help others in my situation to see that they can too.
It all began back in January. I was experiences symptoms like dying of thirst, needing to use the restroom more often, legs cramping all freaking night, increased appetite, irregular periods, and a burning desire to consume all the sugar I could find. I went to my doctor in Feburary about my legs. When there she basically said “well that’s weird…we can run some blood work.” In retrospect I should have done that, but I felt stupid at that point for even going to see the doctor. So I started taking bottles and bottles of supplements to stop my leg cramping. It worked enough to alleviate my concern.
However, my irregular periods where becoming a nuisance. My period kept starting a week early. Last about 7 days. I would have a one day break and then my period would start again lasting for about 5 more days. Not fun.
So l I went to my gynecologist. I was set up with an ultrasound and my results came back normal. My GM decided that blood work was the next step. My husband asked me earlier that day if thought I could be diabetic. I immediately said no. I was too old. My brother is type 1 and he was diagnosed in his early twenties. There was no way. However, to be on the safe side I asked that they check my blood sugar in the test. I put off going into hospital for days. Finally I was hanging with my brother and told him my symptoms. He frowned. “I want you to eat something sugary, wait one hour and then come to my house sometime this weekend.”
That Sunday I ate a good portion of jellybeans and half a Sayklly’s fudge egg. In an hour I bravely went to my brother’s house and felt I was ready. He pulled out his glucose meter and pricked my finger. My results appeared and all I could do was blankly stare. I was at 519. An average person should be around 90-120. I felt numb and sick. Nathan, seeing my face, said let’s retest. This time it was 546. No, this can’t be real. I’m too old. It has to be something else. Something curable. Something I don’t have to live the rest of my life with. My husband checked his next. That stupid man had perfect levels. Nate tested his and his were currently normal. At this point Nate patted me on the back and said “Welcome to club sister.”
The next morning, Monday, I woke up early and went in for my blood test finally. I told them about my results from the night before. There were two women there who were very nice. I cried as she inserted the needle and said “I better start getting used to needles.” They both were wonderful. One was diabetic and told me there was nothing to be concerned. It will be apart of who I am if the result come back positive. I left the room calmer, but also numb.
Within two hours I received the call. My blood sugar was at 290. I was told to call my doctor immediately and get in as soon as possible. I was in to see my doctor in less than 2 hours. I finally got the fateful news. I was type 1 diabetic. Emotions washed over me. I tried to stay calm and not cry. It didn’t work. They had one more test before they could prescribe insulin, but there was no doubt.
I was sent to a diabetic learning center in the hopes it would help calm my mind. In a way yes it did. Everyone around me seemed to be speaking a million words a minute. I tried my best to fight the tears. My husband finally arrived a calm washed over me. I always feel so safe and secure with him. The appointment ended and I decided to throw in the towel about returning to work. Instead I went home and called my insurance company to determine what was acceptable prescription wise. After I was done with that I felt so emotionally drained. I felt I could cry no more.
Foolishly I sat down and read the materials they gave me. I got to the section about inserting the needle and broke down. That is when my husband walked through the door. He was by my side in an instant. If you haven’t guessed, I am terrified of needles. That fear is still there, but deminished with short needles.
In the end I survived my first day of being diabetic. It was a whirlwind of information that went right over my numb head, but thankfully I have the wonderful support of my husband. I also have an amazing support system in my family and my friends.