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.
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