Hi and welcome.
I am new to the blog scene so I guess the best place to start is by introducing myself. I am a 32 (just as it's my birthday on the 9th 😊) year old, mother of three stunning children (1 teenage boy, 1 tweenage girl and 1 younger girl), wife to an amazing man, housewife, carer and everything in between, woman. In my 'spare' time I enjoy reading, crochet, researching on topics of interest, walking and seeing friends. I have type 1 diabetes, (23 years and counting), along with several other health issues, but more on those in another post.
I was diagnosed diabetic on the 16th May 1993. A day that made me who I am today. I had been quite poorly for sometime but no one knew what was wrong. I had been losing weight but because I was aleady a small, skinny girl it went unnoticed until I went away for a few days. Clothes were an issue because I was so slight, Mum says my favourite pair of shorts were for a 4 year old and I was 9! I was always really thirsty and nothing would quench it. Also no matter how much I ate I didnt gain weight or feel full. I went away with the school for a few days and became quite poorly. I struggled to keep anything down and became very weak. When I returned home Mum made me a Dr's appointment but a few hours before I took a turn for the worse. I remember the excruciating stomach cramps and the thick saliva where I was so dehydrated. The Dr came to the house took one look at me and said hospital NOW and don't wait for an ambulance. I began slipping in and out of consciousness and the next thing I remember is the paediatric Dr trying to find a vein to give me fluids. Mum said once they got me hooked up to drips it was like watching a balloon inflate. Apparently I had been moments from a coma and possibly worse. With a blood sugar level of over 40 mmol/l (720mg/dl) they were surprised I was still able to function at all. I just remember wanting to sleep, so sleep I did.
24 hours later I got to meet the paediatric diabetes team. They were amazing, very patient and understanding. They explained to Mum and I what was wrong, and how we were going to treat it. My immune system had got confused and attacked my pancreas, an organ behind the liver that produces insulin, the fat storing and blood sugar controlling hormone. I remember being scared, confused and upset. All this new information and the overwhelming feeling of why me! Back then it was common practice to start you on insulin twice a day. The only way to take insulin is via injection and this petrified me. I was given a syringe and an orange to practice the technique. I had to learn to do my medication before they would let me out of hospital. Within the space of a few hours I had gone from eating without really thinking to having to plan all my meals, measure out all my carbohydrates and eating all my food no matter how hungry I was. SO MUCH INFORMATION! The dietician went through everything with Mum, explaining I had to eat a certain amount of carbohydrates at each meal to match my insulin intake, in the hope of keeping my blood sugar within a certain range. To measure that meant another needle stabbed in my finger any where up to 8 times a day. MORE! Great 😣
Life became very structured, revolving around numbers from all angles. 50g, 13mmol (234mg), 6 units.....on and on it went. Eating when I wasn't hungry and going without when I wanted something more. No more sweets, no more icecream unless it was measured out accurately, no more spontaneous trips out. Every little thing had to be planned. I went from being one of the popular kids at school to parents refusing to have me over for fear I may collapse or something. Several friends asked hurtful things like was it contagious, did I eat too many sweets and give myself it... and the list goes on. Anyone reading this who is also type 1 will know what I mean.
Life went on as it does, only with a bit more planning and caution. At times things got hairy, my suger level would plummet and out would come the fruit juice or chocolate, or it would climb too high and I would need to go for a walk. Techniques and regimes changed as medical science found better ways to control things. I went from syringes and bottles twice a day to what looked like a pen with a needle instead of a nib 4 times a day. This needle was finer so a lot less painful but I and people around me assumed that it meant I was getting worse. Looking back I can understand why I felt like that, but now I know if anything it meant I would had better control, more normal. As control and responsibility was handed over to me over the years I began to learn tricks and bad habits so that I could eat that piece of cake, drink that cola, or even lose weight quickly if needed. All very dangerous and bad habits to have cos I was playing with my life. As a teen you think the future is a long way off and that you are invincible. Sadly in the past 18 months I have learnt the hard way how wrong I was. (More in the future 😄)
Medical science has progressed further still and I now control my levels with a wonderful device, an insulin pump. I want to save the ins and outs of how it works and how much it has helped my control for another time, but surfice to say it is now my new best friend 😁.
Well I guess I have taken up enough of your time today. I hope it has been interesting and I haven't bored you too much...are you still awake? Hey you in the back....yes you! lol Please do leave me a comment letting me know your thoughts and feelings. Or even tell me your story. I look forward to hearing from you.
Till next time...
