The Beginning of My Journey

Blood Sugar: 315

So this is the story of my diagnosis...and life prior to the pump. I know it's long, but I bet there are many, many out there that can relate to many, many things that I did and went through. Leave me a comment and let me know you've been there...we're not alone in this, even though it feels like we are at times....

As they say in The Wizard Of Oz, it’s always best to start at the beginning. I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes in 1984, when I was 8 years old. I had been feeling pretty bad for a while and losing weight, drinking excessively. It was a Monday...I remember it clearly. We had gotten in trouble on the school bus on Friday and as we were waiting for the bus that morning I turned to my mom and said, "I don't feel good." She started to check me out when my older brother says, "We're supposed to get in trouble today because of what happened on the bus Friday. She's not sick, she's scared." So out the door I went. Ok, so I was scared, but I really didn't feel good.
So anyway, at lunch time, I made my way to the lunch line with the other kids...I was feeling worse and worse the longer I stood there. I finally get to the cashier and I looked at her and said, "I don't feel good." Annoyed, she hollered at me, "Well don't tell me about it, go tell the nurse." I left my tray of food there and headed to the nurse's office.
I get to the doorway and realize that the nurse’s office is down three flights of steps. I was dizzy, I was sweating, I thought I was going to toss my cookies. I stood at the top of the steps for a moment before I realized there was no way that I could walk down them. So I sat and scooted myself all the way down three flights of steps and two landings to the nurse. I think when she saw me, she knew something was amiss. I started telling her how I was feeling and I think she had an inkling that it might be diabetes. She called my mom and my mom had my grandparents come to the school and pick me up and my mom met us at the doctor's office.
We got right into the doctor...I don't remember her name, but those few minutes that my mom and I were in the exam room I will never forget. They took blood and urine and poked and prodded me and I don't know exactly what they found in their testing...but they told my mom that I had diabetes and that she should take me home and wait for the call to go to the hospital.
Well, a lot of things run through your mind when a doctor says, "diabetes," and your mom starts crying. I just knew I was going to die. What else could it be? I mean, nothing makes moms cry, right?
So we went back to grandma's to wait for the call that they were ready for me at Children's Hospital. I can't even begin to imagine what my parents were going through. They had divorced in 1980 and were both remarried...but the pain for each of them was the same. They were going to be trained to put their daughter through the paces of diabetes every day.
I remember not feeling good. I remember the nurses being nice. I have NO recollection of any doctors at this point. I'm sure they were all over me, but I must be blocking them. LOL I remember watching my mom, dad and step-dad give shots to towels, then to oranges and then to each other. I remember when they started coming after me.
We had no idea about carb counting. There was a STRICT exchange diet and I was miserable. Nothing tasted good anymore and I was always hungry...what I would have given for one more bowl of Strawberry Shortcake cereal...I still remember how good it was. My mother meticulously measured and weighed everything that I ate. She packed my meals and snacks for school. I couldn't tell at the time when my blood sugar was going low and often passed out at school. To punish me, that's what it felt like, my teacher made me eat my snack in class and then bring my snack bag up to her so she could make sure that I'd eaten it all. I was horror stricken. I was SO different from everyone else and 8 year olds are not nice. They made sure I knew how different I was. They would tell me to go and sit with my own kind. I'm 32 years old and I can still see the faces of these children and I can still feel the sting of their words today...as if all this time had never passed.
I think it was at this point after my diagnosis that I began to let the hate fill me. I hated doctors and I hated my parents, I hated the other kids that could eat their Halloween candy, I hated my brothers and sister for eating the Halloween candy that I had gathered. I was bitter and alone and left there.
It was in junior high that I realized that the doctors didn't know what they were talking about. I could skip shots and be fine all day long. So that's what I did. I'd skip one shot a day, usually my morning one and then do whatever I wanted at school...I ate milkshakes and Icees and Little Debbie was quickly becoming my best friend. I didn't need instruction and I didn't need to take shots, the doctors and my parents were just overreacting...look at me, I'm fine. I was finally, for the first time in my life, functioning just like everybody else and it felt good....then I realized that I could skip both my shots every once in a while and things would be fine....that all changed the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of high school...

Inspiration

Blood Sugar: 152

I saw starting with my current blood sugar over at www.thebuttercompartment.com and I think it's a fabulous addition! I have been diabetic for 24 years and have decided it's time to take control of my life and my disease. I've been inspired by finding a community of 'd-bloggers' and decided that I can write what I feel about this disease and what I think about it and if I help one other person, then it's been successful. That being said this is my first official post and I'm thankful that I'm here to write it.