My Story (page 4)
The next two nights I stayed in the ER. They pumped me full of two liters of liquid in order to rehydrate my body, and I constantly had a flow of insulin through the IV. I did not go to the bathroom for over ten hours because my body was so dehydrated.
Friends and family came and went. I got cards and flowers. I acted strong and happy for their sakes, but when I was alone, I cried. I just couldn't understand why all this was happening.
The day I was to be released, the doctor had me administer my first shot. I held my breath. When the needle pierced my skin, I cringed more from anticipation than from pain. A dietician came to give me a cliff notes version of how my diet should change, how often I should eat, how big my serving sizes should be...
Information overload.
I went home a new person. Depressed. Confused. Pessimistic. Bitter.
But then... I realized that all of this negativity wasn't going to change anything. As cheesy as it may sound, I knew that I was better than this. I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. My parents were so supportive and my poor attitude was only serving to make them feel guilty or responsible for somehow giving me "bad genes". I read several books. My dad and I made all these charts of my insulin and its peak periods of activity. I recorded all my meals and how much insulin I took. I noted how I felt. The first few nights I woke up with dangerously low blood sugar. 29. 36. 24. I quickly learned from my mistakes.
By the time I went to my first doctor appointment with my diabetic educator, I felt so well read on the disease and so organized. I whipped out the charts that my dad and I created and she was amazed. She signed me up for all the diabetic classes offered by the hospital and I was glad to go.
In my classes, I was always the youngest one there. Except once. A young girl - pretty and shy - came to a class with her boyfriend. She was in high school when I realized how young she was, my heart went out to her. In high school, all you want to do is fit in. what about the late nights studying for finals and snacking on a bag of chips? Parties? I realized that I was lucky to be diagnosed after I graduated from college because it would have been so easy not to take care of myself. It was that one pretty and shy high school girl who was afraid of what has happened to her body that really motivated me.
I understand the pressures of fitting in. the pressures of society on one's appearance and image. I decided if I had to wear a medical ID tag, I would do it in my own special way. I headed to the bead store. I now have a wide collection of bracelets that I can mix and match with my medical tag.
Who says diabetes can't be fashionable?
