Category: Diagnosed

Diagnosed With Type 1 Diabetes as an adult

Diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes as an Adult: The Day That Changed My Life Forever

Diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes as an Adult: The Day That Changed My Life Forever
By: Valerie Abner

I’m approaching my 2nd Type 1 Diabetes birthday and just turned 41. Yes, I’m one that was fortunate enough to be diagnosed at 39. I’m the mom who was saved by my mom and my son’s broken leg.

Here is my story on how I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes as an adult:

July 6, 2015 . . . it’s the day that my life changed forever.  It’s the day that I now like to call my birthday.

It all began with what I thought was a stomach virus on July 4th.  I was on the couch all day.  The next day was a Sunday and just as anyone recovering from a virus, I was weak, but feeling better.  We went to a nearby park for the afternoon.  My son was playing on the playground and fell from the fireman’s pole, fracturing his leg in two places.

After leaving the hospital we had to get pain medication and when we arrived back at home, I was sick all over again.  I vaguely remember falling asleep on the bathroom floor.  Monday morning came and again I was weak, but feeling some better.  My husband had to go for a meeting and my mother came to stay with us, mostly to care for my son.

The symptoms were just the same.  I thought maybe I was dehydrated and began drinking Gatorade, and lots of it.  It was just after lunch when I lost control of myself.  I was dizzy, confused, lethargic and completely out of my mind.  I could not catch my breath.  I somehow got back in the bed when my mom found me and called for an ambulance.

I knew nothing.  Not even enough to know that I was in serious danger.

At the age of 39… Who would have ever thought that I would be diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes as an adult?  I spent the next week in ICU being treated for diabetic ketoacidosis or DKA.  If it wasn’t for my son’s broken leg, my mother probably would not have been at our house. Today, I’m grateful for both.

I was on numerous shots for the first 4 months.  My body went into a chemical imbalance and then I fell into depression.  I could not eat or sleep.  I was nauseous.  My legs ached and I could not function on a daily routine.  I was losing weight.  I would pray each day just to get me to bedtime and at bedtime pray just to wake up the next morning.

It was horrible.  The worst feeling in the world.  It was on my September 2015 visit to the endocrinologist that she realized I would not make it without the insulin pump.  I’m currently using an insulin pump and a continuous glucose monitor.

Oh, how I am so thankful for so many things.  I am thankful for broken bones. Without that I may not be here today.  It was through those life events that called out for help on the day that I would need it the most.  I am thankful for the Lord above that knew that I would be needed for so much more.  I am thankful for a family that loves me and has fought this battle every step of the way beside me.  I am thankful for every day that I’m alive.



In This Journey We Have Learned Gratitude

In This Journey We Have Learned Gratitude

In This Journey We Have Learned Gratitude

Written by: Shawn Nelson

December 28, 2014….that date will forever be in my head.

A few weeks before, that is when things started to change for us. It started with what I thought was anxiety when we went out to eat. Christian, who had just turned 11 at the time would be doubled over in pain after eating meals. Saying it made him “feel funny” and he couldn’t explain it. That led to extreme fear to go to restaurants because he then associated it with feeling ill.

My heart broke thinking this was his life…and to let that fear take over crushed me. Soon after Christian all of a sudden had a burst of health awareness….we found him munching on celery, making great food choices, drinking water, and eating ice…lots and lots of ice. It was non stop. And for one split second I actually thought to myself, “something seems wrong.”

But every road I turned I had a reason for why he was acting in this manner. Christian then caught a “bad cold”….one that seemed to linger. He was lethargic constantly, he couldn’t even keep his eyes open to drive to the grocery store. But he just kept telling me, “Mom, I am fine. Just tired from being sick but I am getting better.” He was then invited over to a friends house to sleep over with his twin brother. I hesitated but he insisted he felt better. They were like family to us so I let him go, knowing they would contact me if there was an issue. Maybe this would get him out of his funk?

The next morning upon picking him up, it hit me. The door opened to the house and I knew something was horribly wrong. After not seeing him for 24 hours I really realized the symptoms such as how skinny he was, how tired he looked, and how black and sunken in his eye sockets had become.

The boys got into the car and when I asked them how the sleep over was, Christian couldn’t answer with out his words slurring into one complete mush pot. I tried talking myself out of any conclusion…he just had a sleep over. He was probably exhausted and just needed sleep. I went home to drop off his brother and told my husband we were running into the doctor. In the car on the way I called our family doctor.

It all of a sudden hit me.

He had lost a ton of weight, dark circles, eating ice non stop, sleepy, and his siblings were teasing him of not brushing his teeth and asking him if he ate Juicy Fruit gum. The RN in me took over and I told our doctor….he either has pneumonia or diabetes. In my heart I knew it was the later.

His tests at the doctor’s office confirmed it and we were in the car next driving to the nearest hospital that treated children with Type 1 diabetes. Upon getting in the car Christian was coherent and carrying on a conversation. Still a bit slurry, but still chatting. It took us about 30 minutes to drive to the hospital and by the time we got there he couldn’t walk. I ran inside searching for the triage desk. They actually gave me a mask to put on him and we were told to wait. I said, “He has diabetes, it’s not contagious” I refused the mask and was asked to wait.

The next part was a blur.

We were whisked into a bed immediately and I vaguely remember fighting to get him back there…which seemed like an eternity. I held this 11 year old body in my arms and his brother just draped himself over crying. Poor guy was so scared. Blood draws, oxygen, crash cart parked at the foot of his bed, and my poor baby was no longer talking. He was out….slipping away fast.

All I could do was stare. I went into nurse mode and needed to know every test they were doing, and every move that was being made. We soon were transferred to the PICU. My boy was breathing on his own, but I knew things were teetering on the other side. With my medical knowledge and the things they were prepping the room with…I just knew. Slowly we started to see improvements with him over the next few days. Glimmers of hope and even a smile once in awhile.

After levels returned to just about normal, and we were out of the woods of a coma or death…the education started. I was like a deer in headlights. Christian, on the other hand, was a rockstar. That boy just took everything he had in him to take control.

Fast forward to 2 years later.

He loves to go live on social media, he loves to teach. My once shy and quiet soldier has turned into a roaring lion. He tells me, “mom I don’t need to be around other kids that have T1 just to feel normal. I am normal, and this is just part of my life.”

He does have his days when being strong is just to much. And I can see it in his eyes. Those are the days when he gets really quiet and I will ask him….”Hey bud, you okay?” And all I get are tears. “I am so tired of this mom. When will there be a cure.” Together we hug and cry…and to be honest say a few curse words to let that anger out, which usually stimulates a laugh and a smile.

Deep down I know my warrior is strong, but all I want to do is take this away from him.

In this journey we have learned gratitude. Gratitude of all things around us. Life is amazing. We have gratitude for family, for our Dr on that scary night in the PICU, for our friends that ask questions before judging, our current Dr for his understanding/empowerment and education, technology (don’t know if as a mom I can live without a Dexcom), and immense gratitude for insulin.

Oh, sweet insulin. Thank you for keeping my son alive. And for those families out there that are fighting a chronic illness…stick together like glue. Surround yourself with nothing but positivity and people helping you to row your boat! It is true when they say you can find your heroes in your own backyard….because I certainly have found mine.


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misdiagnosed with type 2 diabetes

How I Was Misdiagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes In My 40’s

How I Was Misdiagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes In My 40’s

Written By: Erin Clausen

In my 42 years leading up to my Type 1 diabetes diagnosis, I’d never been the type of person to get sick much at all. An occasional cold every couple of years. Maybe a quick 24-hour flu a couple of times in my entire life. My immune system always seemed to function incredibly well. Better than most I’d always thought.

Eight months before my diagnosis, I had the flu. It was the most awful three days. I couldn’t keep anything down. My bones ached miserably. A seemingly inescapable relentless aching that made me want to scream. I could do nothing but hope to sleep in between diarrhea, vomiting, and dry heaves.

In the months that followed that horrible flu. I noticed I wasn’t feeling up to par. I started having to use the bathroom in the middle if the night. Where before, I almost never got up to pee during the night. It soon became two to three times a night. I also noticed that I was often very thirsty. I would wake up every couple of hours and drink from the 32-ounce glass of water on my nightstand.

I even started to run out halfway through the night and needed to refill my cup. Then the frequent urination became five to six times a night. The conversations I’d have in my mind every time I’d wake up needing to pee went like this. “Dammit Erin, stop drinking so much water and you won’t have to pee so much!” or “I wonder if I should see my doctor about overactive bladder issues?”

I had also been losing weight easily. I chalked it up to the fact that I was a massage therapist and I expended a ton of energy during the day working on clients. I even wore a fitness activity/calorie burn monitor. It confirmed that I was burning a lot of calories. In hindsight, my job and level of activity probably saved me from super high blood sugars and DKA. I had been exercising my blood sugar down every day.

When I finally had enough of the frequent bathroom trips, thirst, and shear exhaustion I decided to get in with my doctor’s office. I saw a female Physician’s Assistant at that time. I loved her. She listened to my complaints and said:

“It sounds like diabetes.”WHAT?? Diabetes never even entered my mind. “But I’m the healthiest person! I’m the low carb, broccoli, quinoa, nutrition peddling queen!”, I said. “I’ve never really had bad blood glucose tests in my life!  She replied, “well, let us just run a bunch of tests and see what comes back.” She ran tests for thyroid, blood glucose, cancer, etc, etc…

misdiagnosed with type 2 diabetes

A few days later, there was a voicemail on my home phone when I’d returned home from work. “Erin. I need you to come by my office tomorrow. You don’t need an appointment, just come by. One of your tests came back with some distressing results.” OH, MY GOODNESS! I just knew it was something bad, like cancer. Still, not even thinking how I could possibly have diabetes.

I got to her office the following day and was quickly taken back to an exam room. She entered the room and greeted me. She immediately got to the point. “Erin, you’re diabetic. Your fasting blood sugar was 356.” I was instantly stunned. “But how did this happen?” I’ve always been so healthy!” She and the physician she worked under assumed and misdiagnosed me with Type 2 (because of my age) and sent me home with a prescription for Metformin. She was sent a referral to the Endocrinologist. Our small town doesn’t have any Endocrinologists. The closest one is 90 miles away. She told me they should be calling me soon to schedule an appointment.

It was Friday—I went back to my work and tried to get my mind on something other than the terrible news I’d just gotten. I worked until 5 pm, went to dinner with my husband and told him the details of my day. When I arrived home that night, there was a voicemail from the Endocrinology office wanting to schedule my appointment. Shoot!! I missed the call. Now I’ll have to wait until Monday to call them back.

After some brief reading online about blood sugar ranges, and quickly learning that a BG in the 350 range was not good at all, and I should probably be on insulin.

The next day, I was afraid to eat anything with carbs for fear that my blood sugars would go even higher. My breakfast consisted of string cheese and almonds. I also started my own research into diabetes. Type 2, just made no sense at all to me. Generally, I had always thought Type 2 was gradual in its onset of increasing blood sugar levels. My diabetes just came almost out of nowhere!

My limited knowledge of Type 1 or Type 2, was that Type 1 was the juvenile type, and the “bad” kind that you were born with or happened or in your childhood and you needed insulin to survive. And Type 2 was what adults got… What “grandma” got. Although no one in my family had Type 1 or Type 2, even grandma… I quickly stumbled across information on other types I never even knew existed. Like Type 1.5 LADA. “THIS!!! This makes more sense! This is probably what I have!”, I said out loud.

Sunday mid-afternoon, still on my string cheese and almonds meal plan, I found a Facebook group on 1.5 LADA and started talking with people. I explained my situation about my diagnosis of Type 2. The people in the group asked if my doctor had given me a blood glucose meter or if I had tested my urine for ketones. I explained that I hadn’t been given a meter and I didn’t know how to test for ketones. After a couple of them urged me to go get a meter, and ketone test strips, my husband jumped in the car and headed to the drugstore to purchase the items I needed.

It was early evening now. The people on the group walked me through how to use my meter and how to test my ketones. The color on the ketone strip was dark. Not the darkest color on the strip but it was the dark pinkish purple block right below it. Took a picture of the strip and posted it in the comments on the group thread. I also posted that my blood sugar was still 350, and I hadn’t eaten hardly anything except a couple handfuls of almonds and string cheese. They all kept commenting, “GO TO THE EMERGENCY ROOM!” So off we went!

The small-town hospital ER where I live took me back to a private room in the ER department. They tested my urine and blood sugar. Not in DKA. But they gave me a shot of 4 units of fast-acting insulin to start out, put me on an IV for fluids and monitored me with multiple finger sticks over the next few hours. They gave me 2 more units and then sent me home around 2 a.m., once they decided my blood sugar was within normal range and my ketones were down.

At 7 a.m. the next morning, Monday morning, I had to leave on the 90-mile drive for a routine appointment I had with the spine surgeon. I had some neck issues due to my job that would most likely result in a surgical fusion at some point. I felt like death warmed over when I woke up. I tested my blood sugar. It was 120. That’s okay. So, why did I feel so hungover??

I decided to leave earlier than necessary for my 12 p.m. spine doctor’s appointment and thought I’d take a chance on calling and possibly getting in to see the Endocrinologist that day. I felt so nauseous and I couldn’t stomach anything to eat. I drove with a bowl on the passenger side at the ready should the urge to vomit arise. I pulled over at 9 a.m., at the halfway point in my journey.

I called the Endocrinologist office. Told them who I was, that I went to the ER the night before, that I had another doctor appointment across the street from their office at noon, but I could be there as early as 10:15 or anytime after 1 p.m. in case the doctor could see me or if he got any cancellations. The receptionist put me on hold so she could talk to the doctor. She came back on and said the doctor could see me if I could be there at 10:15. “I’ll be there!”, I said. And I was back on the road.

I arrived at the Endo’s office. Still looking and feeling horrible. I was shown into his private office. Awards for Excellence in Endocrinology were everywhere. A reassuring sign! A tall, slim gentlemen in his 70s entered the room and introduced himself as Dr. Atcheson. He asked me many questions, then asked if he could do an examination in his patient room next door. I was shown there by his assistant. She tested my blood sugar at that point. It had already climbed to 210, without me having eaten anything that morning.

After his examination. He said, “Well young lady. I’d be very surprised to find that you’re Type 2. I’m 90% certain you have Type 1 diabetes. But I’m going to send you to the lab for a couple more blood tests….” “But I thought mostly babies and children got Type 1, I said. He told me that about a quarter of all Type 1’s were diagnosed after the age of 25. Many are diagnosed in their 40s and 50s.

Misdiagnosed with type 2 diabetes

Then he brought his assistant back in to show me how to use insulin pens. Told me to go get my blood work done, then have a sensible lunch, and give myself 3 units of fast-acting insulin and he’d be calling me frequently the next few days. I went to my next doctor appointment. Then, still not feeling up to eating, I pulled into a convenience store. There I found my staple sustenance, string cheese, and almonds. I pulled around to the back parking lot and injected my first self-administered shot of insulin. I thought to myself, “Is this really happening?” I proceeded to cry my eyes out for a few minutes. Then I was back on the highway toward home.

The next day, Dr. Atcheson called me with the additional test results. I was definitely Type 1, not Type 2. Ironically it was April Fool’s Day. I guess I can never forget my D-Day! The week and a half that followed, that 70-year-old doctor, called me four times a day. At 9.a.m., then at noon or 1 p.m., then around 5-6 p.m., then again around 9 p.m. He’d ask me what my blood sugar reading was, what I had eaten, told me how to calculate my fast-acting insulin to cover the carbohydrate in my meals, told me how much long-actings insulin to give myself at night and made adjustments for my dosages as needed. Judging from the caller ID, he always called from his office.

After a week and a half, he said he felt I had a good enough grasp on carbohydrate counting and administering my insulin and he didn’t need to continue calling. He then set me up for an appointment with a diabetic nutritionist to make sure I was proficient at carb counting. He also recommended I consider a Dexcom Continuous Glucose Monitor and an insulin pump in the future. I later found out he didn’t usually deal with diabetic patients in his practice anymore. I was switched to the other endocrinologist/diabetes specialist in the office for my continued visits. As it happened, that doctor was on vacation when I was diagnosed.

I feel very fortunate to have been diagnosed quickly and without being admitted into the hospital for a week due to DKA. It could’ve been so much worse. Life is in my mid-40s is so very different. I’m on a continuous glucose monitor and an insulin pump. Doing well. Many would say I do so well, it seems effortless. It’s not nearly as effortless as I make it appear to everyone around me.

Not an hour goes by without thinking about, treating, dosing and planning my day around diabetes. I’m approaching my three-year Diaversary this April Fool’s Day, 2017. I haven’t celebrated my last couple of Diaversaries, but think I’ll celebrate this year, and maybe even have the cake. Just a little extra insulin added to my celebration of being alive.


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We Are Not Letting Diabetes Win Anymore

We Are Not Letting Diabetes Win Anymore

We Are Not Letting Diabetes Win Anymore

By: Jodi Otis

10 years ago our lives were forever changed when my then 6-year-old son, Bailey, was diagnosed as a Type 1 Diabetic. I will never forget the day his beautiful brown eyes looked at me as he uttered the words….”Mom, am I going to die?

I swear my heart stopped for that moment in time. I saw his life flash before me in just a matter of seconds. The tears softly rolled down my cheeks as I promised him he was going to be OK, that no matter what, he was going to feel better soon.

Before we knew it we were off to Children’s Hospital where his blood sugar was almost 800 and he had large ketones but was not in DKA. We spent the night and as many T1D parents do—you admire them as they sleep. As I sat in the darkness and silence the tears fell like rain.

And I prayed—I prayed for him to find peace and the strength to handle this. He was six, 6. He should be worrying about if he was going to jump in mud puddles or ride his bike not what his blood sugar is. I knew we had a long road ahead of us.

The next two days we had training so we could take our child home with us and be experts in diabetes. I should have known he would have had the most amazing courage, he took the poker and meter from the nurse and tested his sugar all by himself. He really has no fear of anything!

4 years later, when he was just 10, his 14-year-old sister, Bree, wasn’t feeling well and he could see the telltale signs and he told her to take his meter and check her sugar and if my heart did not stop again….her blood sugar was almost 300.

I couldn’t help but feel anger—not towards her but for her. Anger that she will have to struggle for the rest of her life after seeing him go into DKA twice and be hospitalized. After seeing him have high blood sugars and low blood sugars and feel awful. After seeing him get sick with the slightest cold or virus sometimes. Seeing him have to adjust….EVERY…SINGLE… THING…HE…DOES….TO ….SURVIVE.

I knew she would have a hard time, she is such a picky eater and not a good sleeper, meaning she can sleep for 12 hours at a time, crazy teenagers! She went through a period of depression and I felt her slipping through my fingers and she used her diabetes as a weapon.

I was heartbroken and angry for so long, I felt like diabetes had won, it had taken over my family and my life. Until we decided that we are not just surviving anymore. We are not going to let diabetes win anymore. She had to find the courage to come out on the other side of depression, not an easy thing to do.

Bree has an amazing spirit. Her smile lights up the world. Bailey has the strength of a million men. His courage is far beyond words. Both Bree and Bailey have raced Motocross for several years. It is mentally and physically demanding. Diabetes could have robbed them from a sport they love but they never gave in or gave up. They are my heroes, they are my true warriors. We choose how we live each day, you, me, we choose. Not the disease.

Every day that we fight, we win.


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How's God's Plan Helped Save My Daughter From Going Into DKA

How God’s Plan For Me Helped Save My Daughter From Going Into DKA

By: Jamie Smith

Most stories of diagnosis of Type 1 diabetes begin with a critically ill child and a diagnosis of DKA. Not my little girl, Mia. But to properly tell the story, I must take you back to 2001.

Long before she was ever even dreamed of. My son was born premature and his life was saved by Karen, a critical care transport nurse. Like most parents, I made deal after deal with God in exchange for my son’s life. I watched him fight while on a ventilator and heard God tell me to become a nurse. I listened.

I decided that I wanted to give back in honor of Karen and to honor the deal God had made with me. Fast forward 11 years, I was working as a critical care transport nurse. My daughter had just turned 2 years old. I noticed that she seemed to always want her sippy cup. Then she began waking up in the mornings completely soaked with urine. Her diaper would be full, pajamas soaked, crib soaked. I tried decreasing her fluids in the evening, but she was so thirsty.

How God's Plan For Me Helped Save My Daughter From Going Into DKA

Early one morning, about a week after these symptoms had begun, I was getting ready to leave for a 24hr shift on the critical care ambulance when my nurse brain finally clicked: check her sugar. I happened to have a glucometer at home, so I checked her – she was 203. Hmmm… So I called my endocrinologist (I had Graves’ disease at the time) and told him what was going on with Mia. He reassured me, said it wasn’t high enough to be diagnostic, she could just have an ear infection and to check her again the next morning when I got home from work.

The next morning, I rushed home and Mia was still sleeping. Good, I thought, this will be a fasting blood sugar and it’ll tell me more. She was 436. I packed her bag, packed my bag, and we headed to our local ER. I called the transport company to give them a heads up about Mia’s inevitable transfer to Nationwide Children’s Hospital, I called the ER and let them know we were coming. I hadn’t even changed out of my uniform. I held my listless daughter on my lap and watched as they stuck an IV; she never even so much as whimpered. Her sugar came back at 462, but she was not acidotic.

In the meantime, the critical care transport company I worked for had been called on another run. Nationwide Children’s said they could send their critical care truck, but it would likely be 5-6 hours. The endocrinologist from Children’s asked the ER doc if he thought I’d be willing to ride in a regular medic truck as the nurse thus making it a critical care truck. He said yes, absolutely she will (I forgot to mention that I used to work as a nurse in this ER and knew the staff very well.)

So that’s what I did. It came full circle. The deal I had made with God about giving back and becoming a nurse had helped to keep my daughter from becoming critically ill with DKA. The endocrinologist at Nationwide Children’s gave me a hug and told me if I wouldn’t have caught it when I did, she would’ve been in DKA within the next 24 hours.

How God's Plan For Me Helped Save My Daughter From Going Into DKA

My daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes at 2 years old. Today, she is an extremely smart kindergartener who is in the accelerated reader program. She wears an Omnipod and a Dexcom. She doesn’t let it slow her down and she has even made a YouTube video teaching others how to check their blood sugar. Her best friend is another little Type 1, Mady. She is an inspiration to so many and is loved by everyone who meets her.

diagnosed with type 1 diabetes

The Day I Was Diagnosed With Type 1 Diabetes

The day I was diagnosed with Type 1  diabetes – was the day that changed my life forever.

I was 12 years old at the time—just a few months away from my thirteenth birthday. It was during Christmas break from school.  A few days had passed, and I started feeling very weak, lethargic, thirsty, and I lost a lot of weight. All I wanted to do was rest. I went to my mother and told her how ill I was feeling. She didn’t think too much of it at first. I was commonly sick with viruses that go around, which we happened to be in the middle of flu season. But this wasn’t the flu—no, the symptoms were worsening and something felt much different. A few more days had gone on, and my mother finally noticed that I wasn’t getting better. I looked almost as terrible as I felt at the time.

My mother took me to the closest hospital to get examined. The doctors ran several tests, which felt like it took hours. At this very moment, I just wanted to feel better. I had no idea that my world was about to change forever. The doctor then came in and gave my mother and I a preliminary diagnosis, that the tests are showing “diabetes”. “Diabetes! What’s that?”. Like most people, especially at my age, I wasn’t aware of what diabetes was. I had no idea what was going on. I then had to be transported to an All Children’s Hospital for further evaluation and treatment for a blood sugar above 900!

When transported, the doctor’s that began treating me, were frantically surprised that I wasn’t in a diabetic coma for hyperglycemia and DKA. It’s shocking that I was still able to speak or “function”. I remember thinking the days prior and how I was unaware at the time that my pancreas had failed me. I was poked and prodded at for an IV insertion. They couldn’t find a vein (of course), and eventually had to use my hand. All during this, I was tired and confused. I remember just feeling the urge to sleep, not wanting to open my eyes. This feeling is so hard to describe—I had felt like something had taken control over my body.

It was all starting to get real, as I was officially diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes from the All Children’s physicians. I remember that my mother was in shock and trying to hold it emotionally together for my sake. It was just me and her in the emergency room. I thought— well, maybe everything is fine. “How terrible can it really be? “Type 1 Diabetes? “What’s Type 1?” Maybe it’s the good kind, I thought.

I don’t recall feeling any emotion at the time towards the news. I think it was really hard for me to grasp the seriousness of what was going on. It just wasn’t processing quite yet. The only thing that stood out to me was the reaction of my mother crying. That’s what really let me know that something was not right.

It quickly became an eye opener when receiving the first needle given to me, from the nurses. I was told that I was going to have to give myself injections several times a day. I honestly didn’t know how I was going to do this. I couldn’t even look at a needle without squirming. I remember asking my mother, “how long do I have to do this for?” The reply I received was “for the rest of your life.” Those are words that were hard to swallow and still live vividly in my mind. I knew I didn’t want to do this, but I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

I watched plenty of videos from the hospital that gave a quick 101 on what Type 1 Diabetes was all about. How it happens and the treatment for it. “But why?” I kept asking. “Why me?” That question never got answered for me. I don’t think anyone could give me the answer I was looking for. Leaving the hospital, I left as a whole new person. With insulin, syringes, blood sugar meter, and snacks in hand.

I left as this person I didn’t even know yet. The person it would take me years to find. How this disease would now shape me into the person I will become. I didn’t know the severity of the condition I was now diagnosed with. Or how I would be navigating my way through life with insulin. Moving mountains that I never thought I would have to move. The day I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes …changed me forever.

Little did I know this journey had only begun…

Type 1 diabetes signs and symptoms can come on quickly and may include:

  • Increased thirst
  • Frequent urination
  • Extreme hunger
  • Unintended weight loss
  • Irritability and other mood changes
  • Fatigue and weakness
  • Blurred vision
  • Nausea/Vomiting

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