Today is one of those days that really does suck to have T1D. Everything was the same as every other Sunday. I woke with a BSL of 3.0, to me no real problem and because it hasn't been a pattern I saw no need to adjust my insulin rates. Mind you if the lows continue then I would adjust the rates so that I consumed less insulin over night. Anyway with breakfast I corrected the BSL and went back to the normal range 4.5 - 8. Nothing abnormal happened for the rest of the morning and in fact all I did was start to pack and worry about where our next move would take us (unfortunately our landlord is selling so I have to pack the family up again for a move). Lunch came and went and I headed off to baseball training. Temperature outside was a nice 24 degrees Celsius and not a cloud in the sky. Before heading for our warm up run I adjusted my basal rate in my pump to 50% of the normal rate for the full 2 hours of the training session. By doing this it would counteract the except isle that was going to be done and hold off any possibility of a Hypo (low BSL). Well that is how it is supposed to work and how it has worked for the last month.
Training went as usual except for the fact that I was uncoordinated a lot of the time. Whether it was trying to field the ball or hit I was making mistakes that were rookie mistakes and ones that are not part of my game. I had checked my BSL prior to the session and it was a nice 10.7. A little higher in the acceptable level but this was my fail safe just in case the basal rate was too much or if the exercise was more than normal. Let me just say now the training session was a little light on compared to normal so it shouldn't have had an effect.
Half way through the session I started to feel it. Light headiness, body tiredness and just the feeling that something wasn't right. I went and found some sugar and quickly took it to bring things back into line. I started to feel a little better so continued on. Now that next part is my own stupid self still not wanting to be the odd one out. I should have called it quits and check my BSL again. Deep down my head was telling me to but my heart just didn't want to. It is usually the other way around but in this case my head was being smart and my heart was being prideful. I finished out the training session but as I finished I knew I had to go and go quickly as I didn't have any other sugar or glucose to hand. I made the 3 minute trip home and rushed inside. Please keep in mind to tell the signs on the outside, from the outside of a hypo is difficult.
I was tired, my brain didn't want to excert itself so I became trapped with in. To make conversation or to communicate was difficult anyway I got inside and in the most non alarming way and in te least amount of words informed my wife I needed sugar. While telling me of the fun and games of the household while I was out I downed the jubes that were given me and continued to look for food to fuel my body back to normal. Now this is where the usual roller coaster begins. The need for fuel is so intense that you can over do it and skyrocket the BSL well above the normal level and once you do that you then have to run the gauntlet of correction to bring it back down again. Please note that it takes around 15 minutes to raise a BSL and close to or over 2 hours to reduce it so the possible roller coaster could last the rest of the day.
The physical impacts of a hypo I can deal with and deal with with no problem I believe however the emotional and mental after effects, the ones that are very difficult to relay to others, are the ones that take their toll. My mind is like a cloud rolls in and dumbs the senses to everything. It makes me question everything I do or want to do, it makes a normal task seem impossible. It makes you tired of this bloody disease. Tired of the day in day out management and wish that someone could do it for you just for a day.
As I write the last sentence my head kicks in and knows that this was just another part if life with T1D. This is just another few hours of abnormality before the norm comes back. Nothing changes, no matter how tired my mind or body is, no matter how much I really don't want to anymore it is a must. I am still expected to be at work or continue work. My wife and kids need me to help manage life and be a roll model to help with success.
As you can see there isn't an easy way to do anything. Without T1D I would have gotten up, had breakfast, packed and stressed a little, have lunch then go to training. I would have then come home and the only thing that may have happened is that my body may have been tired from the exercise. To me seems like a pretty simple way to live and sometimes, and I only mean every no and again, a life that I am enviously of. All other times I know that without this I would be the person I am today. I am sure my wife would tell you that there are elements of me that would be good to change however I am who I am T1D and all.
I wrote this on the upside of a hypo and know that I may have a roller coaster coming but also know that the worst is past and now the chemicals in my body can level out again. As that is what it is. Your body doing what it needs to to survive no matter what. If that means moving or changing the balance in your body then so be it.
Sunday 25 August 2013
Friday 23 August 2013
The balancing act Circ Du Soleil would be proud of!!!
Some days are harder than others but that is the same for most however I suppose this disease, along with all the critical diseases, there is the hidden effects on us. Days where enough is enough and even getting out of bed is to much of an additional work to put on your plate. The pressure of always being on and knowing the same tasks of calculating, measuring and having control is laid out before you. The knowledge that if you don't manage all aspects then the complications may present themselves one day.
Someone once likened living with T1D was like living on a see-saw that was on a see-saw that was on a see-saw that was on a see-saw. The first see-saw is the management of medicine, with a little balance that is achievable however if you lean the wrong way it can throw you off balance. The second see-saw is the management of food intake. Now managing to stay even on two see-saws is a challenge. Now the third see-saw is the management of exercise. Exercise does some strange things to blood sugar. In the beginning due to the adrenaline rush it can have the opposite effect to what you might think. It actually shoots you blood sugar higher and then once the adrenaline subsides then the blood sugar will drop dramatically. Usually this will be well after you have finished exercising. As you can imagine you have three see-saws that you balancing trying to do a job that is natural and automatic to most and if one element in 3 way see-saw is tipped in the wrong direction then there is a lot of work and process to try to get things back and level. If that wasn't enough there is the forth see-saw. This is the hidden invisible see-saw that people either don't believe in or don't want to talk about. The forth see-saw is emotions. Whether it is happiness, sadness, stress, tiredness, sickness or depression there is an effect on trying to maintain balance on the beams. I have had days that the biggest swings in my BSL's are due to emotions. I have managed to work through knowing people who have committed suicide, through divorse, through marriage, through the elation of watching my children come into this world and in each situation the one common thread is that my diabetes was always there and always needed to be managed. There have been days where my control has been anything but perfect going ridiculously high and dropping scarily low but this didn't stop me from picking myself up again and fixing it when possible. There have also been days that I have done the bare minimum to control my diabetes because there are sometimes that life takes priority and for those hours even though you still do what is needed, diabetes takes a back seat. No matter what ,and it is the same if life in general, there needs to be flexibility and understanding and most of all confidence that no matter what comes up you have the ability to tackle it and prioritise what part your diabetes needs to and will play. It is there and there are smart and not so smart decisions but when ever a not so smart decision is made then the lessons learnt are taken and used if the situation arises again.
As you can see those people lucky enough to have T1D do their best to stay with in a level that will ensure minimal complications and they strive to find a team of individuals that understand that it isn't just a matter of not eating sugar and having an injection and all will be fine with perfect numbers. There is management and there are days where balance is easy and other days where even though you do exactly the same as a perfect day (from a physical point of view) the control is impossible. We all do our best and no there are no perfect people out there (even Fabio gets hit in the face with a goose on a roller coaster) and the day that specialists and doctors understand that the better the management process could be.
Someone once likened living with T1D was like living on a see-saw that was on a see-saw that was on a see-saw that was on a see-saw. The first see-saw is the management of medicine, with a little balance that is achievable however if you lean the wrong way it can throw you off balance. The second see-saw is the management of food intake. Now managing to stay even on two see-saws is a challenge. Now the third see-saw is the management of exercise. Exercise does some strange things to blood sugar. In the beginning due to the adrenaline rush it can have the opposite effect to what you might think. It actually shoots you blood sugar higher and then once the adrenaline subsides then the blood sugar will drop dramatically. Usually this will be well after you have finished exercising. As you can imagine you have three see-saws that you balancing trying to do a job that is natural and automatic to most and if one element in 3 way see-saw is tipped in the wrong direction then there is a lot of work and process to try to get things back and level. If that wasn't enough there is the forth see-saw. This is the hidden invisible see-saw that people either don't believe in or don't want to talk about. The forth see-saw is emotions. Whether it is happiness, sadness, stress, tiredness, sickness or depression there is an effect on trying to maintain balance on the beams. I have had days that the biggest swings in my BSL's are due to emotions. I have managed to work through knowing people who have committed suicide, through divorse, through marriage, through the elation of watching my children come into this world and in each situation the one common thread is that my diabetes was always there and always needed to be managed. There have been days where my control has been anything but perfect going ridiculously high and dropping scarily low but this didn't stop me from picking myself up again and fixing it when possible. There have also been days that I have done the bare minimum to control my diabetes because there are sometimes that life takes priority and for those hours even though you still do what is needed, diabetes takes a back seat. No matter what ,and it is the same if life in general, there needs to be flexibility and understanding and most of all confidence that no matter what comes up you have the ability to tackle it and prioritise what part your diabetes needs to and will play. It is there and there are smart and not so smart decisions but when ever a not so smart decision is made then the lessons learnt are taken and used if the situation arises again.
As you can see those people lucky enough to have T1D do their best to stay with in a level that will ensure minimal complications and they strive to find a team of individuals that understand that it isn't just a matter of not eating sugar and having an injection and all will be fine with perfect numbers. There is management and there are days where balance is easy and other days where even though you do exactly the same as a perfect day (from a physical point of view) the control is impossible. We all do our best and no there are no perfect people out there (even Fabio gets hit in the face with a goose on a roller coaster) and the day that specialists and doctors understand that the better the management process could be.
Tuesday 20 August 2013
Nearly 30,000 injections and counting
One of the consistent methods of understanding how your BSL control is going over a long term period is a HbA1c test and what this does is look at the average glucose level over a 30 day period. This test helps understand the risk of complications which include blindness, nerve damage, circulation issues, kidney disease, heart disease, impotence, etc etc etc. as you can see if I choose to go down the road of ignorance and denial then the repercussions could be life changing again. To tell you the truth life has been challenging enough without adding in the possibility of more and that doesn't even mean that a complication isn't around the corner as control is only a measure of sanity in this war and at any stage the enemy can lob an unseen attack at any part of me.
Anyway back to HbA1c throughout my teenage hood my ranges would range anywhere from 7 to 13. Now this doesn't seem like a big number but when you look at a non diabetic their HbA1c would be between 4 -6 and your body automatically releases insulin or glucose depending on what is needed to stay in that range. Any figure higher than this makes the sugar crystals that attach themselves to the blood cells start to create damage to your organs and seeing as these tests are an average over an extended period someone could be doing damage on a constant basis. My routine through my teenage years and early into my adult life I was having 5 standard injections a day also referred to as multiple daily injections (MDI). 3 quick acting insulin injections before meals and a long acting insulin injection before bed and when I got up in the morning. The difficulty with this routine, above and beyond the eating for the insulin, was in fact the long acting insulin injections. I can only speak for myself as everyone will have their own mix that will work for them but the long acting insulin, which was supposed to keep me level between meals was the cause of a number of the severe hypo's. For some strange reason my body, in the middle of the night, would go higher which would mean the night time injection would need to be higher but in saying that after the increase then in the second half of the night and in the early hours of the morning my body would do the complete flip and drop low which meant the store of emergency glucose that is stored for emergency in the kidneys needs to be released. Unfortunately due to the nature of T1D the natural senses that monitor if and when the these stores are used is hit and miss and when it is released then the amount usually is just not enough. So while sleeping I would go on a roller coaster ride all while I was asleep and to put how serious it is to know what is happening, other than complications caused by T1D, the thing that can cause death is falling low while sleeping and not knowing. Like anything in life the more you do something the more you take it for granted or have less feeling for the situation. The same is said for hypo's. If someone has constant lows then the body gets used to it and starts to think that this is normal and you start developing hypo unawareness, which can be dangerous.
Everything about this routine, even though it was a long term routine and it was the norm, it was still frustrating and a lot of the time I would have times in the day where I just felt crap. Whether it was from being high or low it had an effect. But then all of a sudden (well after some investigation and research) everything changed. The insulin infusion pump was introduced to me and became my best friend. This took away the long acting insulin injections and in fact the MDI and move to having 1 injection every 3 days. After nearly 30,000 injection the time for change was now. I was tired and my body was tired of being a pin cushion. This would also be the answer to a lot of my problems that I was having overnight as well as being able to have a near normal HbA1c for an extended period of time. There are complexities and I could go onto more about the pump but that is going to be a post all to itself.
Anyway back to HbA1c throughout my teenage hood my ranges would range anywhere from 7 to 13. Now this doesn't seem like a big number but when you look at a non diabetic their HbA1c would be between 4 -6 and your body automatically releases insulin or glucose depending on what is needed to stay in that range. Any figure higher than this makes the sugar crystals that attach themselves to the blood cells start to create damage to your organs and seeing as these tests are an average over an extended period someone could be doing damage on a constant basis. My routine through my teenage years and early into my adult life I was having 5 standard injections a day also referred to as multiple daily injections (MDI). 3 quick acting insulin injections before meals and a long acting insulin injection before bed and when I got up in the morning. The difficulty with this routine, above and beyond the eating for the insulin, was in fact the long acting insulin injections. I can only speak for myself as everyone will have their own mix that will work for them but the long acting insulin, which was supposed to keep me level between meals was the cause of a number of the severe hypo's. For some strange reason my body, in the middle of the night, would go higher which would mean the night time injection would need to be higher but in saying that after the increase then in the second half of the night and in the early hours of the morning my body would do the complete flip and drop low which meant the store of emergency glucose that is stored for emergency in the kidneys needs to be released. Unfortunately due to the nature of T1D the natural senses that monitor if and when the these stores are used is hit and miss and when it is released then the amount usually is just not enough. So while sleeping I would go on a roller coaster ride all while I was asleep and to put how serious it is to know what is happening, other than complications caused by T1D, the thing that can cause death is falling low while sleeping and not knowing. Like anything in life the more you do something the more you take it for granted or have less feeling for the situation. The same is said for hypo's. If someone has constant lows then the body gets used to it and starts to think that this is normal and you start developing hypo unawareness, which can be dangerous.
Everything about this routine, even though it was a long term routine and it was the norm, it was still frustrating and a lot of the time I would have times in the day where I just felt crap. Whether it was from being high or low it had an effect. But then all of a sudden (well after some investigation and research) everything changed. The insulin infusion pump was introduced to me and became my best friend. This took away the long acting insulin injections and in fact the MDI and move to having 1 injection every 3 days. After nearly 30,000 injection the time for change was now. I was tired and my body was tired of being a pin cushion. This would also be the answer to a lot of my problems that I was having overnight as well as being able to have a near normal HbA1c for an extended period of time. There are complexities and I could go onto more about the pump but that is going to be a post all to itself.
Saturday 17 August 2013
Control does not mean perfection
Soon after my severe Hypo while working for my dad I realised I needed to find something else. My older brother had gone into hospitality as a chef and it was thought that hospitality management college would be a good way forward. I didn't think about the long hours and the abnormal work times but I had to do something. As with the last few years of high school I would now try to hide my T1D from anyone that it didn't really matter to. To those I had to tell I would tell the bare minimum. Basically I would tell employers that I was a diabetic and that every now and again they may see me test my blood and give myself an injection. On most occasions they would say thanks for letting them know and let them know if there was anything else they needed to know. As I wanted to fly under the radar with what could happen I would say no and get on with things.
Going back to the abnormal hours it was very interesting working the hours that I was supposed to be eating and even working te hours I should be sleeping. It took around 6 months to get used to it. Constantly battling the hypo's and highs trying to work out the right ways to do things. A mix of making sure I ate before and after work and if need be a glucose boost in the middle of work. The highs and lows were there but if anyone ever says to me that with proper control you shouldn't ever have BSL fluctuations then they are the joke.... And trust me I have known a lot of doctors who believe that control means pure stability. A part of being T1D with good control is all about having highs and lows and learning from them. I am happy to be proven wrong however it is my belief that it is impossible to have good control with out them. No day is the same, even if it was it would be a very boring life, and seeing as everything you eat and do has an effect then all you can do is calculate the best you can and in a lot of ways have faith that things and luck is with you. Sometimes you just stuff up or miss calculate which means your BSL will rise or fall and the best thing to do from there is understand where the error was and take mental note so that next time you can adjust again, oh and give your self a correction to bring things back into line.
It was around 1.5 years after I finished high school when I decided that it was time to make a move and move out of home. This was a scary time. Even though I had been managing my diabetes from day 1 at least my family was aware of what could happen and what needed to be done if it did. One particular day proved to me how important it was to allow trust elsewhere. I was living with my girlfriend and as we lived close to the city and work our main mode of transport were rollerblades (I know very daggy now but it was very cool then). It was a day off and the temperature was in the low to mid 30's and we had been out all morning blading and had retuned home. I felt fine but I was really hungry, my girlfriend had tried to ask me something (can't remember what) but I gave some comment that didn't really make her happy and she said I was being difficult and she stormed off to have a shower. All I can remember from there is searching in the fridge for tho thing to eat but not getting anywhere. Not long after I past out for a little bit of this recollection it is from what I have been told. My girlfriend came out of the shower to fing me out cold on the kitchen floor. She had no idea what to do as all I had told her was to give me sugar. She didn't know how to test me nor did she know how to use the Glucagon that was in the fridge. One thing she did know was to call an ambulance (the first of only 2 ever needs to call one). After the call was made she re-attempted to wake me up. It must have worked as she said that I sat bolt upright and grabbed both of her knees with my full strength and said help me. This must of only lasted a few seconds and thank god cause she said I nearly broke her knees and she had the bruises to prove it. From there for some reason my memory returns however my body was out for the count. It was like being conscious in a near dead body. I could hear people and in my mind I could formulate a response however I couldn't get my eyes to open, my hands and arms to move or my mouth to speak the words. I remember the paramedics arrive and give me the pure glucose paste into my mouth. It didn't take long for it to kick in and my body started responding again. I learnt that my BSL was down in the ones and it must have been so for a little while. The paramedics waited until I was feeling better and gave me the option to either go into hospital for observation or stay at hone and take it easy... Of course I stayed home as I was not being anymore of an odd one out. From that day forward I have always tried to find at least one person in my daily life to give the details of what to do just in case something happens again. The hypo was a combination of the exercise and the hot weather which caused the drop and the hypo unawareness. Never a situation that is ideal but another situation that you put into you utility belt of possibilities just in case you need to recall for a simular situation.
Friday 16 August 2013
When Nothing Can Take the Frustration Away!!!
I suppose frustration becomes a part of life with T1D. One of my biggest frustrations is that I can never have a break no matter what I do. A day of no injections or no pump on my belt, a day of not pricking my fingers, a day of eating and not calculating what it is and what effect it will have on me and a day to be irresponsible and carefree would be a dream. Everyone can dream and I think dreams help keep you moving forward but at the same time I have also had to have realistic dreams and not get caught up in endless impossibilities. For the first 10 years or so I would keep my ears open for any report or advice from the media or doctors that the cure was imminent. I would listen to the doctors say that we are close and it should be only 5 years away. I would hear of trials of transplanting a pig pancreas as a replacement. Before you think "what the hell?" The pig organs are the closest to ours. Before we started making synthetic insulin we sourced the insulin that we would inject from pigs. Anyway I would hear of the transplants and yes they still do them today but the anti rejection drugs that the patient would have to take for the rest of their lives were not only just another drug they would have to take but it was more harsh on the body then actually just managing the T1D. So the only time they do it is if the recipient is have a transplant of another organ that is going to keep them alive and then they will do the pancreas at the same time. I can't speak for everyone but I know that damaging my body and restricting my immune system to ensure that an organ is not rejected is not my idea of a cure. For something to be a cure I want life back with no substitute drugs or regime just to stay alive.
Another frustration that is only growing is that of the comparison and the preconceived idea in the world that there is only 1 Diabetes. That to have diabetes the person must have been a slack person who was over weight and ate an excessive amount of sugar which meant it was my fault that I got this condition and that if you get up and exercise then you could prevent and even get rid of it. As I write this I feel my frustration growing and trust me I have friends and family who have type 2 Diabetes and they know my views and to be honest my views are probably over generic as there are some exceptions however here we go - Type 2 Diabetes is a life style choice compared to T1D which is an auto immune disease. If someone says that they know all about diabetes because they know someone with T2 then that is like saying that you have read the first 10 pages and the last 10 pages of a 400 page novel and they know the full detail of the story. It is true that T2 can be reversed in many cases by controlling food intake, exercising and losing some weight. As the instances of T2 are growing at an alarming rate across the world the cost on the worlds economy is also dramatically increasing the main focus for advertisement is the quick fix. The main spending is for the people that can do something for themselves if the cared. T1D is nothing that any of us could have asked for or even prevented. It is our over active immune system that for some unknown reason sees our insulin producing cells in our pancreas as foreign bodies and goes about destroying them completely and utterly. This can either happen quickly as in my case or it can happen slowly hence why there can be a type 1.5. It starts looking like type 2 and can be can be controlled with tablets, diet and exercise and then as the immune system does its worst the tablets become less effective, the exercise needs to increase just to keep the same level and the diet needs to become even more strict. This is the slow road to T1D and also know as the honeymoon period.
I wouldn't wish this disease on my worst enemy but what I know it needs is the right recognition in the world as it wasn't long ago that this was a terminal disease and even now, even though it is getting less and less, people do die from T1D.
To me another frustration is the worlds governments and the assistance they give. Do not get me wrong there is help and assistance but where my frustration lies is that the techniques in managing T1D have developed and become much easier to lead a much more normal life however I do not believe that the governments have kept up to this demand. They still see that injections can be a suitable management path and that is it where as with the introduction of the insulin infusion pumps which allows a more natural life to be lead. It may not be for everyone but for kids it should be. The control across the entire day will allow for long lives. Still difficult and challenging but one of the best methods to help lessen complications. If the expense wasn't so great there is also the the ability to monitor BSL's continually so that patterns can be realised and you can see when your levels are rising or dropping. These would change the management from reactive to proactive and help parents with children with the disease and help teenagers and adults minimise the risk of complications and therefor lowering the cost on our already stretched medical systems.
Even though these frustrations exist we still push forward and try to offer education where ever we can. If one person listens and understands or even just asks another question the perceptions will change. The governments may change in time but I'm sure it will take a lot to get that done.
Life continues and and the frustrations can drive us to strive for change.
Another frustration that is only growing is that of the comparison and the preconceived idea in the world that there is only 1 Diabetes. That to have diabetes the person must have been a slack person who was over weight and ate an excessive amount of sugar which meant it was my fault that I got this condition and that if you get up and exercise then you could prevent and even get rid of it. As I write this I feel my frustration growing and trust me I have friends and family who have type 2 Diabetes and they know my views and to be honest my views are probably over generic as there are some exceptions however here we go - Type 2 Diabetes is a life style choice compared to T1D which is an auto immune disease. If someone says that they know all about diabetes because they know someone with T2 then that is like saying that you have read the first 10 pages and the last 10 pages of a 400 page novel and they know the full detail of the story. It is true that T2 can be reversed in many cases by controlling food intake, exercising and losing some weight. As the instances of T2 are growing at an alarming rate across the world the cost on the worlds economy is also dramatically increasing the main focus for advertisement is the quick fix. The main spending is for the people that can do something for themselves if the cared. T1D is nothing that any of us could have asked for or even prevented. It is our over active immune system that for some unknown reason sees our insulin producing cells in our pancreas as foreign bodies and goes about destroying them completely and utterly. This can either happen quickly as in my case or it can happen slowly hence why there can be a type 1.5. It starts looking like type 2 and can be can be controlled with tablets, diet and exercise and then as the immune system does its worst the tablets become less effective, the exercise needs to increase just to keep the same level and the diet needs to become even more strict. This is the slow road to T1D and also know as the honeymoon period.
I wouldn't wish this disease on my worst enemy but what I know it needs is the right recognition in the world as it wasn't long ago that this was a terminal disease and even now, even though it is getting less and less, people do die from T1D.
To me another frustration is the worlds governments and the assistance they give. Do not get me wrong there is help and assistance but where my frustration lies is that the techniques in managing T1D have developed and become much easier to lead a much more normal life however I do not believe that the governments have kept up to this demand. They still see that injections can be a suitable management path and that is it where as with the introduction of the insulin infusion pumps which allows a more natural life to be lead. It may not be for everyone but for kids it should be. The control across the entire day will allow for long lives. Still difficult and challenging but one of the best methods to help lessen complications. If the expense wasn't so great there is also the the ability to monitor BSL's continually so that patterns can be realised and you can see when your levels are rising or dropping. These would change the management from reactive to proactive and help parents with children with the disease and help teenagers and adults minimise the risk of complications and therefor lowering the cost on our already stretched medical systems.
Even though these frustrations exist we still push forward and try to offer education where ever we can. If one person listens and understands or even just asks another question the perceptions will change. The governments may change in time but I'm sure it will take a lot to get that done.
Life continues and and the frustrations can drive us to strive for change.
Thursday 15 August 2013
Work and the start of trying to explain and juggle
I suppose I should start just before I start work because I had to get through the stress of high school and the VCE exams. Unbeknownst to my parents I was over the stress of school and the importance that everyone was putting on a few weeks of exams to determine what your life will be. Luckily in Australia and at the time that was a load of crap. To me I had more maturity and stress just by getting up in the morning than I did by adding the complication of trying to know what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I didn't know then and I don't know now, but I do what makes sense and makes me happy. Through the exams I always made sure there was a supply of glucose close by and that meant ensuring that the teachers and observers knew everything that they needed to. I never knew if anyone really knew what to do if something ever happened.
The exams contained the usual stress of studying aswell as the battle of maintaining the right BSL levels and the worry if something went wrong. It was amazing how much time through out my school life and then even more so when I moved into the workforce.
Straight after leaving school and due to living in Geelong, Victoria I went to work with my dad who ran a home maintenance business doing anything from lawn mowing through to demolition and building. There is a few things I could say about my dad but what is important to this story is that he was a slave horse that didn't ever grasp the intricacies of my disease and what I would need each and every day. The best way to describe this was a day that I went out for work and after a full morning of cleaning carpets and mowing lunch time came and went. He was too busy to stop and I was too intimidated to stop. The afternoon continued an the work just kept on going. I was tired, not just the normal I could just stop after a busy day, I was my body just wanted to stop and even standing up with my eyes open was difficult. My mind was retreating into my head and my speech was becoming difficult. I knew I needed and wanted to talk but the signals from my mind were not getting to far. We were at the last job for the day which was cleaning up an office building in an industrial park. I eventually after stumbling around I eventually was able to tell dad that I needed sugar. It took him a few minutes to understand why but he gave me some coins and sent me towards the vending machine in the other room. He went about his work and I stumbled off and fumbled to make my body do what I needed it to. I got a can of normal (full sugar) soft drink and drank it in seconds. After a few minutes my ability to manage my body and talk returned but I was tired in and out. That being the case the job needed to be done as I wanted to get home and end this nightmare. After another 30 mins of half arsed work the day was done only 13 hours after it began. On the car ride home I was quiet. Partly cause I was annoyed that to me dad just didn't care and because I was not feeling the greatest. The trip was to take around 30 mins but I can't remember getting home. All I can remember is waking up on my bed still in my work clothes and only lying on the bed like I just crashed. I went out to dinner with the rest of the family to shocked faces. I was confused and had no idea why they were shocked. I asked and was told that I had gotten home and with out saying anything and not responding to anyone I came into the house and went straight to the cake tin that is always in the kitchen. I proceeded to take and eat a quarter of the cake. As I was doing this mum told me that dinner was coming and that I shouldn't. I angrily yelled something at her took the cake and disappeared to my room. The next they saw me I was coming out of my room just now to all the confused faces. After informing everyone that I had no memory of this event and doing a BSL test it was determined that this was my first severe hypoglycaemic episode (a BSL lower than 4). This wouldn't be the only time I have what I call time loss due to a hypo. Much later on I would realise that this would be due to exhaustion, lack of eating and being hypo for an extended amount of time. The soft drink wasn't enough obviously.
It wasn't long after this situation that I knew I wouldn't be able maintain my dads work and I convinced them that my way forward was to join my brother in the hospitality industry and go to hospitality college. Once again the life story and warnings had to be told to select people I worked with or went to school with. It still happens today but now I see it as a chance to educate rather than a just in case explanation that will go I one ear and out the other because of miss understanding on what it is for.
The exams contained the usual stress of studying aswell as the battle of maintaining the right BSL levels and the worry if something went wrong. It was amazing how much time through out my school life and then even more so when I moved into the workforce.
Straight after leaving school and due to living in Geelong, Victoria I went to work with my dad who ran a home maintenance business doing anything from lawn mowing through to demolition and building. There is a few things I could say about my dad but what is important to this story is that he was a slave horse that didn't ever grasp the intricacies of my disease and what I would need each and every day. The best way to describe this was a day that I went out for work and after a full morning of cleaning carpets and mowing lunch time came and went. He was too busy to stop and I was too intimidated to stop. The afternoon continued an the work just kept on going. I was tired, not just the normal I could just stop after a busy day, I was my body just wanted to stop and even standing up with my eyes open was difficult. My mind was retreating into my head and my speech was becoming difficult. I knew I needed and wanted to talk but the signals from my mind were not getting to far. We were at the last job for the day which was cleaning up an office building in an industrial park. I eventually after stumbling around I eventually was able to tell dad that I needed sugar. It took him a few minutes to understand why but he gave me some coins and sent me towards the vending machine in the other room. He went about his work and I stumbled off and fumbled to make my body do what I needed it to. I got a can of normal (full sugar) soft drink and drank it in seconds. After a few minutes my ability to manage my body and talk returned but I was tired in and out. That being the case the job needed to be done as I wanted to get home and end this nightmare. After another 30 mins of half arsed work the day was done only 13 hours after it began. On the car ride home I was quiet. Partly cause I was annoyed that to me dad just didn't care and because I was not feeling the greatest. The trip was to take around 30 mins but I can't remember getting home. All I can remember is waking up on my bed still in my work clothes and only lying on the bed like I just crashed. I went out to dinner with the rest of the family to shocked faces. I was confused and had no idea why they were shocked. I asked and was told that I had gotten home and with out saying anything and not responding to anyone I came into the house and went straight to the cake tin that is always in the kitchen. I proceeded to take and eat a quarter of the cake. As I was doing this mum told me that dinner was coming and that I shouldn't. I angrily yelled something at her took the cake and disappeared to my room. The next they saw me I was coming out of my room just now to all the confused faces. After informing everyone that I had no memory of this event and doing a BSL test it was determined that this was my first severe hypoglycaemic episode (a BSL lower than 4). This wouldn't be the only time I have what I call time loss due to a hypo. Much later on I would realise that this would be due to exhaustion, lack of eating and being hypo for an extended amount of time. The soft drink wasn't enough obviously.
It wasn't long after this situation that I knew I wouldn't be able maintain my dads work and I convinced them that my way forward was to join my brother in the hospitality industry and go to hospitality college. Once again the life story and warnings had to be told to select people I worked with or went to school with. It still happens today but now I see it as a chance to educate rather than a just in case explanation that will go I one ear and out the other because of miss understanding on what it is for.
Monday 12 August 2013
The Confronting Years
It is said that the teenage years are confronting, confusing and full of misdirection. Well that is unless you have decided that your health is more important and that you have put growing up early with an auto immune disease as a priority. Well that is what I thought was best from a holistic view of the world. In fact I hated having T1D. I hated that I was different, I hated that I had to concentrate on what I ate and what exercise would do to me. I hated that I felt that know one in my family knew what I was going through. As you can imagine all of this perceived hatred caused me to withdraw into myself and become an introverted personality. Making friends was difficult. Not that it should of been but more because I didn't want people close enough to understand what could happen if I went low or high. Or even for them to see me inject. As crazy as it sounds it was still seen not to be right to inject in public. When required I would find a toilet and go into a cubicle and inject away from prying eyes. I know looking back now that looks really dodgy and only druggies should hide away cause they have a problem to hide and I have now come to terms with everything and I will inject where ever I need to. Prying eyes can judge but if they ever ask then I will educate.
Along with the usual defiance of a teenager I went through my time of ignoring parts of my diabetes and the biggest was not testing. I would sometimes go days or weeks without a test but never once did I not give myself my insulin and not eat. I suppose that not testing, even though it is like driving a car blind, I felt that it was my way if being a little normal. My mum decided to try and scare me into testing one day and took me into the royal children's hospital to speak to the head endocrinologist. The discussion started with the usual questions, how often do you test? Why don't you test more? Do you think that it is enough? Do you think that you can manage your T1D by just the way you feel?
As with anytime you are forced to do something my barrier was up from the start. The endo could have told me anything and it would have gone in one ear and out the other. I believe that from all the endo's and doctors I have seen they know the clinical methods and reasons of T1D but what they don't understand is the emotional and the physiological effects that it has on each and every one of us. The acceptance of a life long disease takes time. You have days where you can take on the world and conquer it without even blinking however for every one of those days there are days where you can find a dark hole, crawl in and hide from everything (including T1D). The effect a low BSL can have on a persons mental state can be devastating. Well on me it can anyway. After serious lows where I have been low for a while and not noticed the effect on my overall body and also my mind is a strain. There has been times where I have broken down in tears, and call it self pity if need be, but at that time my body and mind is so tired of the ongoing battle and war that I just want it over. This could last from minutes to hours but from there I realise that life moves on and I need to pick my self up again and work out what happened. Was it over calculation for my food, was it exercise, was it stress, was it due to weight loss, was it sickness or was it an unknown cause. Sometimes it is difficult to tell but after looking at the hours prior to the hypo there is usually an answer.
Anyway back to those years where I would be moving from teenage boy to a young adult. At the end of the last paragraph I mentioned that a cause for a hypo could have been sickness but on a dangerousness note sickness can be just that... Dangerous! One day in these years I had become ill. To me (in the beginning anyhow) it was a normal sickness and I had been sick whether it was a cold or gastro or anything similar in the past however this time I was really sick. I had started to vomit and my parents thought it be best to have me centralised in the house and under the fan to cool down. 5, 10, 15 hours passed and the vomiting did not stop and my mum decided that my dad should take me into hospital as they were worried that something could go wrong. I haven't really spoken about my dad much and I suppose it is because he left the management of the kids and their health to mum but that is whole other chapter to discuss. I was taken to the emergency department age was still sick sitting in the waiting area. It wasn't long before I was taken through to see if this could be treated. Within minutes and without doing a BSL the doctor had decided that my symptoms were that I were hypoglycaemic and instructed the nurse to administer glucose or some method to raise my BSL ( you will have to forgive some of the vagueness in this situation but you will understand in a second). The nurses set about doing as the doctor asked. They gave the medication and started to take the regular bloods. Unbenost to me my dad was watching from the sidelines and even though he was a police officer who had seen more than any normal person all of a sudden past out and went straight to the ground of the emergency department. It was then I learnt that my dad wasn't invincible and that his weakness was blood coming out of his third son. The nurses rushed to his side leaving me sick and in a terrible amount of pain and made sure he was now sitting down and that he was ok. By the time the nurses had brought their attention back to me the doctor had returned and had finally instructed the nurse to do a BSL test to see what my blood suger was doing. Please realise that the previously treatment was given without knowing and because I was sick and my dad didn't even really know what a BSL was no one could push the point. The BSL was done and to everyone's astonishment I was heading to a diabetic coma with a BSL of 56. When normal BSL and the target level is between 5and 6 this was redicously high. The sickness and pain was now understandable to everyone. The frantic movements of the doctors and nurses was now a blur. I was on the edge of going to sleep, and that is not in a good way.From that point 2 days past where I was admitted to the critical unit and all I can remember was on occasion waking up with someone either talking to me or holding my hand. The tiredness was encompassing and even though I woke in those 2 days there was no energy to open my eyes and interact. On the third day I woke and the next 3 days it was a matter of moving from the critical room and having the eyes and tests done to make sure I was ok. Thankfully I was and luckily to this day there are no complications. The sickness and pain from this ordeal is difficult to explain but what I do know is that is that I never want to go there again. Oh and yes my dad was fine just couldn't stand all that blood, not that he will admit that.
Along with the usual defiance of a teenager I went through my time of ignoring parts of my diabetes and the biggest was not testing. I would sometimes go days or weeks without a test but never once did I not give myself my insulin and not eat. I suppose that not testing, even though it is like driving a car blind, I felt that it was my way if being a little normal. My mum decided to try and scare me into testing one day and took me into the royal children's hospital to speak to the head endocrinologist. The discussion started with the usual questions, how often do you test? Why don't you test more? Do you think that it is enough? Do you think that you can manage your T1D by just the way you feel?
As with anytime you are forced to do something my barrier was up from the start. The endo could have told me anything and it would have gone in one ear and out the other. I believe that from all the endo's and doctors I have seen they know the clinical methods and reasons of T1D but what they don't understand is the emotional and the physiological effects that it has on each and every one of us. The acceptance of a life long disease takes time. You have days where you can take on the world and conquer it without even blinking however for every one of those days there are days where you can find a dark hole, crawl in and hide from everything (including T1D). The effect a low BSL can have on a persons mental state can be devastating. Well on me it can anyway. After serious lows where I have been low for a while and not noticed the effect on my overall body and also my mind is a strain. There has been times where I have broken down in tears, and call it self pity if need be, but at that time my body and mind is so tired of the ongoing battle and war that I just want it over. This could last from minutes to hours but from there I realise that life moves on and I need to pick my self up again and work out what happened. Was it over calculation for my food, was it exercise, was it stress, was it due to weight loss, was it sickness or was it an unknown cause. Sometimes it is difficult to tell but after looking at the hours prior to the hypo there is usually an answer.
Anyway back to those years where I would be moving from teenage boy to a young adult. At the end of the last paragraph I mentioned that a cause for a hypo could have been sickness but on a dangerousness note sickness can be just that... Dangerous! One day in these years I had become ill. To me (in the beginning anyhow) it was a normal sickness and I had been sick whether it was a cold or gastro or anything similar in the past however this time I was really sick. I had started to vomit and my parents thought it be best to have me centralised in the house and under the fan to cool down. 5, 10, 15 hours passed and the vomiting did not stop and my mum decided that my dad should take me into hospital as they were worried that something could go wrong. I haven't really spoken about my dad much and I suppose it is because he left the management of the kids and their health to mum but that is whole other chapter to discuss. I was taken to the emergency department age was still sick sitting in the waiting area. It wasn't long before I was taken through to see if this could be treated. Within minutes and without doing a BSL the doctor had decided that my symptoms were that I were hypoglycaemic and instructed the nurse to administer glucose or some method to raise my BSL ( you will have to forgive some of the vagueness in this situation but you will understand in a second). The nurses set about doing as the doctor asked. They gave the medication and started to take the regular bloods. Unbenost to me my dad was watching from the sidelines and even though he was a police officer who had seen more than any normal person all of a sudden past out and went straight to the ground of the emergency department. It was then I learnt that my dad wasn't invincible and that his weakness was blood coming out of his third son. The nurses rushed to his side leaving me sick and in a terrible amount of pain and made sure he was now sitting down and that he was ok. By the time the nurses had brought their attention back to me the doctor had returned and had finally instructed the nurse to do a BSL test to see what my blood suger was doing. Please realise that the previously treatment was given without knowing and because I was sick and my dad didn't even really know what a BSL was no one could push the point. The BSL was done and to everyone's astonishment I was heading to a diabetic coma with a BSL of 56. When normal BSL and the target level is between 5and 6 this was redicously high. The sickness and pain was now understandable to everyone. The frantic movements of the doctors and nurses was now a blur. I was on the edge of going to sleep, and that is not in a good way.From that point 2 days past where I was admitted to the critical unit and all I can remember was on occasion waking up with someone either talking to me or holding my hand. The tiredness was encompassing and even though I woke in those 2 days there was no energy to open my eyes and interact. On the third day I woke and the next 3 days it was a matter of moving from the critical room and having the eyes and tests done to make sure I was ok. Thankfully I was and luckily to this day there are no complications. The sickness and pain from this ordeal is difficult to explain but what I do know is that is that I never want to go there again. Oh and yes my dad was fine just couldn't stand all that blood, not that he will admit that.
Saturday 10 August 2013
The first 5 years of fighting embarrassment and fear
The main management style when I was first diagnose and for many years after was to have a set amount of carbohydrate at each meal time. Now when I say meal time it was breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner and supper. I don't know you but that is a lot of eating. This amount of carbs was set by the amount of insulin you were having at each interval. Basically you were eating to match your insulin rather than setting your insulin to match your food.
I remember sitting at the bench after going home from hospital and watching mum serve up dinner. For my plate she had measuring cups, spoons and scales and for everyone else it was business as usual. My plate was calculated once, twice and sometimes 3 times just to make sure while this was sinking in. Everything was timed and it always felt that I was eating. I could sence that this was going to be a big part of my life. What I didn't realise though was how adaptable we humans are if we allow and how something that has never been done before becomes second nature. Confidence also plays its part. I was never one that was an extrovert with my confidence however I had to become, over the years, an expert of myself.
By the time I headed back to school my insulin requirements had changed to have 1 morning injection mixed with both short and long acting insulin and the same again in the evening. With this being the norm while I finished primary school there wasn't too much of a problem cause I was in the same room day in, day out and my bag stayed put. My teacher was aware and I suppose that was easy. However moving into secondary school was different. I would be moving between classes, a lot of different teachers and my possessions even though in a locker were out in the public rather than locked away in a class room. With all these scenarios running through my mum and teachers heads it was agreed that I would do the unthinkable a have my equipment and supplies on my always. Now what is the best way to do that in a ever friendly and non judgemental environment? That is right a fluorescent bum bag!!!!! That along with me being terrified that I would have a hypo and be even more different was just one of the barriers to get through.
For some reason I, from a very early stage at high school, had the fear of a hypo. I had it to the extent that every night I would devise a way to sneak a few dollars from my parents wallet or purse so that I could buy a mars bar and a diet coke... I know doesn't make sense at all I would eat the mars bar to keep out of the danger zone but have the diet coke cause of the guilt. Kids minds are strange and I was not an exception to the rule. School continued with the far share of taunts from older and younger kids but when it all came down to it I did it cause it was my health and if they had such low responsibility and values then they could keep themselves happy doing whatever they wanted. I wasn't a short weedy guy so they were not about to use anything other than words and we all knew that. Not to mention that I had 2 older brothers that on occasion, and I mean odd occasion would make sure I was ok. To talk of my brothers for a sec I don't ever think my elder brothers really understood what T1D really was. Yes they knew I had to inject but not the real details of the disease? To this day I still don't think they understand it fully. Makes me sad to think that a loved one could suffer and not know what it really is. I am not saying that I am looking for sympathy, cause no way. I just think of myself if my daughters were to get it I would find out every detail and I would encourage their sisters to understand as much as they could just in case one day they were needed.
Outside of school was also interesting. I played hockey to start with and then moved to baseball and basketball. These created new challenges making sure that the exercise didn't drop me low. The main recommendation from the endocrinologist was to have normal cordial to maintain the sugar balance. I maintained doing that the whole time I played sport while I was injecting and only stopped when I went on a pump but I will get to that in another post. Sport was everything it showed me no matter what I could still do whatever I wanted
I remember sitting at the bench after going home from hospital and watching mum serve up dinner. For my plate she had measuring cups, spoons and scales and for everyone else it was business as usual. My plate was calculated once, twice and sometimes 3 times just to make sure while this was sinking in. Everything was timed and it always felt that I was eating. I could sence that this was going to be a big part of my life. What I didn't realise though was how adaptable we humans are if we allow and how something that has never been done before becomes second nature. Confidence also plays its part. I was never one that was an extrovert with my confidence however I had to become, over the years, an expert of myself.
By the time I headed back to school my insulin requirements had changed to have 1 morning injection mixed with both short and long acting insulin and the same again in the evening. With this being the norm while I finished primary school there wasn't too much of a problem cause I was in the same room day in, day out and my bag stayed put. My teacher was aware and I suppose that was easy. However moving into secondary school was different. I would be moving between classes, a lot of different teachers and my possessions even though in a locker were out in the public rather than locked away in a class room. With all these scenarios running through my mum and teachers heads it was agreed that I would do the unthinkable a have my equipment and supplies on my always. Now what is the best way to do that in a ever friendly and non judgemental environment? That is right a fluorescent bum bag!!!!! That along with me being terrified that I would have a hypo and be even more different was just one of the barriers to get through.
For some reason I, from a very early stage at high school, had the fear of a hypo. I had it to the extent that every night I would devise a way to sneak a few dollars from my parents wallet or purse so that I could buy a mars bar and a diet coke... I know doesn't make sense at all I would eat the mars bar to keep out of the danger zone but have the diet coke cause of the guilt. Kids minds are strange and I was not an exception to the rule. School continued with the far share of taunts from older and younger kids but when it all came down to it I did it cause it was my health and if they had such low responsibility and values then they could keep themselves happy doing whatever they wanted. I wasn't a short weedy guy so they were not about to use anything other than words and we all knew that. Not to mention that I had 2 older brothers that on occasion, and I mean odd occasion would make sure I was ok. To talk of my brothers for a sec I don't ever think my elder brothers really understood what T1D really was. Yes they knew I had to inject but not the real details of the disease? To this day I still don't think they understand it fully. Makes me sad to think that a loved one could suffer and not know what it really is. I am not saying that I am looking for sympathy, cause no way. I just think of myself if my daughters were to get it I would find out every detail and I would encourage their sisters to understand as much as they could just in case one day they were needed.
Outside of school was also interesting. I played hockey to start with and then moved to baseball and basketball. These created new challenges making sure that the exercise didn't drop me low. The main recommendation from the endocrinologist was to have normal cordial to maintain the sugar balance. I maintained doing that the whole time I played sport while I was injecting and only stopped when I went on a pump but I will get to that in another post. Sport was everything it showed me no matter what I could still do whatever I wanted
The week that forced maturity!!!
After being told that a normal BSL is between 5-6 and realising that there is a big difference to where I was at 26 it was understandable that something had to be done. Mum took me directly to the hospital where the rushed me straight into admission and a drip was inserted into my hand for the first time. The first day there was not a lot of explanation, well not to me anyway. All I knew is that a nurse would come quite regularly in the beginning and prick my finger to drop blood into a strange machine to see if the medication was working. I had no idea what they were giving me and I was yet to know that the little machine my blood was going into was soon to become my best friend and enemy all at once.
That first night in hospital was the first time in weeks to months that I didn't have to get out of bed.. I was going to say the first night I got a decent sleep but we all know that sleep in hospitals is difficult especially when someone is stabbing your finger on an hourly basis.
The second day is where the learning began and to think it was the second week of the school holidays. Surely this could have happened during school times so I could get time off but no.
I was told that I did have T1D and that I would have to give myself injections for the rest of my life or until a cure was found. According to the docs and nurses it was only about 5 years off and after 23 years I think the cure is still about 5 years away. Now just after I was told about the injections and as they were letting me practise in a hard piece of foam and a injection doll my mum was told that it wasn't her fault and that it was an auto immune disease. In other words my immune system saw my insulin producing cells in my pancreas as foreign objects and waged war on them until they were dead.
I learnt that each piece of food we eat has an effect on us. At the time I learnt about exchanges and carbohydrates and that I would have to eat a strict diet to cater for the insulin I was going to be set. Keep in mind that I still had my drip feeding me insulin so the fun of injections had yet to start. I learnt that exercise would also pay a part in my T1D life and had to be considered in everything I do. With all this learning and responsibility a person can one of 2 options. You can take the information in and accept it (not always easy to do) or you can go down the retaliation road and start what can be a difficult life in the worst place - denial.
With the prompting of my mum and grand parents my option to accept what has happened and embrace it was my way forward. Do not get me wrong the days of hating it and wishing I could ignore it or wishing that I was not on a constant roller coaster on some days has always been there but so has the fear of what if I don't look after it? Where will that leave me?
Day 3 started and day 3 saw the drip come out of my arm. Arhhhhhh we know what that meant. The reality of the needles began. I always felt, but never confirmed, that by the time I hit the hospital any honeymoon stage was long gone and I went straight into having 4 injections a day. Actrapid before breakfast, lunch, dinner and protaphane before bed. By day 3 the finger pricks were annoying but took a back seat while the injections took hold of my childhood.
I always though it was funny cause since I was in hospital all the nurses and doctors kept telling me how lucky I was that I was diagnosed in world diabetes week.... I am still yet to see the luck in it. Maybe helpful cause there were more reps around giving out medical show bags but that was about it.
From the first day of injections I didn't get the option for someone else to do it for me. It was decided that the best person to manage everything was me. At 10 years of age you can imagine how much you grow up when your told that if you don't manage all the aspect and give yourself injections then it could mean blindness, amputation, kidney or heart disease or even death. I did my first injection in my stomach and was told I could also do them in my arms or legs or anywhere there was some fatty tissue. I was taught how to test for ketones and I was taught how much and how often I should eat. I have to admit my mum was there beside me
I ended up being in hospital for 7 days 2 of which were recovering and 5 were learning. Not that we ever stop learning about better way to live with or better techniques to manage T1D but not a bad learning curve to change your life forever.
That first night in hospital was the first time in weeks to months that I didn't have to get out of bed.. I was going to say the first night I got a decent sleep but we all know that sleep in hospitals is difficult especially when someone is stabbing your finger on an hourly basis.
The second day is where the learning began and to think it was the second week of the school holidays. Surely this could have happened during school times so I could get time off but no.
I was told that I did have T1D and that I would have to give myself injections for the rest of my life or until a cure was found. According to the docs and nurses it was only about 5 years off and after 23 years I think the cure is still about 5 years away. Now just after I was told about the injections and as they were letting me practise in a hard piece of foam and a injection doll my mum was told that it wasn't her fault and that it was an auto immune disease. In other words my immune system saw my insulin producing cells in my pancreas as foreign objects and waged war on them until they were dead.
I learnt that each piece of food we eat has an effect on us. At the time I learnt about exchanges and carbohydrates and that I would have to eat a strict diet to cater for the insulin I was going to be set. Keep in mind that I still had my drip feeding me insulin so the fun of injections had yet to start. I learnt that exercise would also pay a part in my T1D life and had to be considered in everything I do. With all this learning and responsibility a person can one of 2 options. You can take the information in and accept it (not always easy to do) or you can go down the retaliation road and start what can be a difficult life in the worst place - denial.
With the prompting of my mum and grand parents my option to accept what has happened and embrace it was my way forward. Do not get me wrong the days of hating it and wishing I could ignore it or wishing that I was not on a constant roller coaster on some days has always been there but so has the fear of what if I don't look after it? Where will that leave me?
Day 3 started and day 3 saw the drip come out of my arm. Arhhhhhh we know what that meant. The reality of the needles began. I always felt, but never confirmed, that by the time I hit the hospital any honeymoon stage was long gone and I went straight into having 4 injections a day. Actrapid before breakfast, lunch, dinner and protaphane before bed. By day 3 the finger pricks were annoying but took a back seat while the injections took hold of my childhood.
I always though it was funny cause since I was in hospital all the nurses and doctors kept telling me how lucky I was that I was diagnosed in world diabetes week.... I am still yet to see the luck in it. Maybe helpful cause there were more reps around giving out medical show bags but that was about it.
From the first day of injections I didn't get the option for someone else to do it for me. It was decided that the best person to manage everything was me. At 10 years of age you can imagine how much you grow up when your told that if you don't manage all the aspect and give yourself injections then it could mean blindness, amputation, kidney or heart disease or even death. I did my first injection in my stomach and was told I could also do them in my arms or legs or anywhere there was some fatty tissue. I was taught how to test for ketones and I was taught how much and how often I should eat. I have to admit my mum was there beside me
I ended up being in hospital for 7 days 2 of which were recovering and 5 were learning. Not that we ever stop learning about better way to live with or better techniques to manage T1D but not a bad learning curve to change your life forever.
Diagnosis
Hmmmm where to begin? I suppose a little about me. I am a 33 year old male, living in Brisbane Australia. I am happily married with 3 beautiful daughters 8, 5 and 2. I work in the IT industry but am not technical at all, hence why I am in sales. I can talk the talk enough to be successful but rely on the experts when it counts. I have had Type 1 Diabetes (T1D) for the last 23 years and as I thought to myself just the other day I have now had it for a lot longer than I didn't so to remember life without needles, tests, doctors and blood is becoming difficult.
DIAGNOSIS
Anyway, why I am writing this? I don't really know, partly for myself, partly that maybe I can help at least one other feel like their not alone in their daily battle with T1D and maybe partly because one day I would like my daughters to be able to read what it has been like and in the unfortunate situation that one of them develops T1D then it will be there for them.
Now down to My Life with T1D... It was early 1990 and I was in grade 5. Everything in the first term was as you expect, usual school yard antics and to tell you the truth I didn't mind school. I wasn't the top of the class but I wasn't at the bottom either. As I moved into the second term of the year some strange things started to happen and to be honest I wasn't old enough to think something was wrong so never said anything to my parents even though now looking back nothing would have been more obvious. I began getting up a few times a night and having to go to the toilet. At the same time, and this is where I thought I was being sneaky, my family used to have a dozen 1ltr soft drinks delivered every week. After going to the toilet I would find myself going to the soft drink cupboard and the thirst was unsurpressible. It started with a bottle lasting 2 or so nights but it wasn't long before it went to 2 bottles a night. To try and hide it I would sneak outside in the middle of the night to place the empty bottles in the crate ready for pick up. I know how obvious...
This night time awakenings continued for weeks with the frequency getting more and more, the thirst was also getting unbearable... What I didn't know and from discussions with my mum later in life my weight was dropping and dropping fast. I got through the second term of school and began the school holidays. Due to my parents working and like most kids the holidays meant time with the grand parents. Always fun as they can have all the fun with no long lasting responsiblity. This includes feeding us all of those sugerie goodies. As you can imagine by now I was struggling at night, struggling with an inquenchible thirst and my weight was dropping. Halfway through the holidays I remember the day before diagnosis. I was at my nans with my 2 cousins, the older of which was my female petite cousin of the same age. The reason why I point this out was because we found an old scale, one with the manual weights from one of the rooms at nans and we thought it would be fun to weigh ourselves (with the help of nan of course cause we had no idea how these old scales worked). I can't recall the actual numbers but we all thought it was strange that for the first time in our lives I was lighted than my cousin. After a day of fun and a lot of sugary goodies I went home. The night went the same as the last few weeks, peeing and drinking oh and little to no sleep.
As much as I thought mum didn't know what was going on she must have as the first trip for the day was the family doctor. After being in the consulting room for a matter of minutes I experienced my first of many blood glucose readings. After waiting a minute for the results to show and then an additional 5 mins for the doc to compare the colour strip against the bottle the doc informed my mum and I that my blood glucose level was 26.9 and that it would be best if I were taken straight into hospital as he believes my to have type 1, insulin dependant diabetes.
The week that followed was the week that changed my life forever and in many respects caused me to grow up a lot quicker than a child should...
DIAGNOSIS
Anyway, why I am writing this? I don't really know, partly for myself, partly that maybe I can help at least one other feel like their not alone in their daily battle with T1D and maybe partly because one day I would like my daughters to be able to read what it has been like and in the unfortunate situation that one of them develops T1D then it will be there for them.
Now down to My Life with T1D... It was early 1990 and I was in grade 5. Everything in the first term was as you expect, usual school yard antics and to tell you the truth I didn't mind school. I wasn't the top of the class but I wasn't at the bottom either. As I moved into the second term of the year some strange things started to happen and to be honest I wasn't old enough to think something was wrong so never said anything to my parents even though now looking back nothing would have been more obvious. I began getting up a few times a night and having to go to the toilet. At the same time, and this is where I thought I was being sneaky, my family used to have a dozen 1ltr soft drinks delivered every week. After going to the toilet I would find myself going to the soft drink cupboard and the thirst was unsurpressible. It started with a bottle lasting 2 or so nights but it wasn't long before it went to 2 bottles a night. To try and hide it I would sneak outside in the middle of the night to place the empty bottles in the crate ready for pick up. I know how obvious...
This night time awakenings continued for weeks with the frequency getting more and more, the thirst was also getting unbearable... What I didn't know and from discussions with my mum later in life my weight was dropping and dropping fast. I got through the second term of school and began the school holidays. Due to my parents working and like most kids the holidays meant time with the grand parents. Always fun as they can have all the fun with no long lasting responsiblity. This includes feeding us all of those sugerie goodies. As you can imagine by now I was struggling at night, struggling with an inquenchible thirst and my weight was dropping. Halfway through the holidays I remember the day before diagnosis. I was at my nans with my 2 cousins, the older of which was my female petite cousin of the same age. The reason why I point this out was because we found an old scale, one with the manual weights from one of the rooms at nans and we thought it would be fun to weigh ourselves (with the help of nan of course cause we had no idea how these old scales worked). I can't recall the actual numbers but we all thought it was strange that for the first time in our lives I was lighted than my cousin. After a day of fun and a lot of sugary goodies I went home. The night went the same as the last few weeks, peeing and drinking oh and little to no sleep.
As much as I thought mum didn't know what was going on she must have as the first trip for the day was the family doctor. After being in the consulting room for a matter of minutes I experienced my first of many blood glucose readings. After waiting a minute for the results to show and then an additional 5 mins for the doc to compare the colour strip against the bottle the doc informed my mum and I that my blood glucose level was 26.9 and that it would be best if I were taken straight into hospital as he believes my to have type 1, insulin dependant diabetes.
The week that followed was the week that changed my life forever and in many respects caused me to grow up a lot quicker than a child should...
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