I get a bit reflective at this time of the year. I’m bearing down on my dm anniversary, and in fact, though today (3/19) isn’t the day I was actually diagnosed, as I think about it, this was a significant day in the days leading to my diagnosis.
Sixteen years ago today. It was a Friday. I remember because I had to wait the weekend for my test results from my doctor. The cough I had been experiencing since January and which had been abating, had returned with a vengence. My doctor ordered yet more blood tests, but didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t know then and wouldn’t know until Monday that I had developed diabetes.
In retrospect, it should have been obvious that there was something more wrong with me than the stress and fatigue all grad students seem to experience. I had finished up my Master’s degree in August, including writing a thesis in record time (according to my thesis chair), applying to and getting accepted by three doctoral programs, then moving to a new state to start my doctoral work…gee, of course I would be tired, achey. I figured if I ever got a good night’s sleep, I would be back to myself.
I didn’t get better. I almost fell face forward into a deli case when a wave of dizziness came over me in November. Thirst became a constant companion, so much so that I felt as if my coffee cup, which was always filled with water, had become an extension of my hand. Everyday, I would go buy a gallon of water or a 12 pack of diet soda. Of course, that led to using the bathroom fairly frequently. I was living in the dorms at the time, and there had been some problems with men bursting in on women using the facilities, which led to the doors being locked (though maintenance forgot to tell us they had locked the doors). Guess who was the first to discover the locked doors?
At that time, though, I had no idea I could develop diabetes. I wouldn’t, not until 3/22, when my doctor would call and ask me to come in because she found something odd in my bloodwork.