Hello Sue_R, you must have had better doctors with more information than I had. I tested urine only once per day, there was no advice on eating other than to avoid sugar. I wish I knew about fixed numbers of carbs, fat and protein after diagnosis. None of my teachers had heard of diabetes, not even in college.
@Richard, I can see that little boy sitting in the cold room waiting for his big needle insulin injection.
How different it is today, this morning on tv I saw that they are developing a computer game to help kids understand how to control their diabetes. The game is fun to play but has information embedded in it that teaches the kids what they need to know.
A computer game? Very interesting! I hope it is well done, and helpful to the children with Type 1.
Bless you, Richard…children with diabetes had to grow up very quickly back then. Hugs!
About alcohol, my taste is limited to white wine, but I sympathize with you as I have never acquired a taste for any beer…I find it repulsive. Thank you so much for sharing, we have indeed come such a long long way!
Wow. Amazing story. Makes me appreciate the fact that I was only diagnosed with LADA 8 years ago. Thanks for sharing.
Richard Love your stories! I come from a family with 3 diabetic children all diagnosed in the 1960’s. Many years after you. Thank you for sharing all the info about the long and gauge size of needles back then. We didnt use glass syringes very look, thank goodness. My siblings and I all had Fat Atrophy from injecting the insulin into the muscle. Fat Atrophy is the loss of fatty tissue in a localized area of the body. We never wore short sleeves, nor shorts because our arms,legs, stomachs, and buttocks had “hollow/dips” in them. Back then is was a treat if our parents allowed us to have a shot in the buttocks. That was a No-No, but it became a favorite spot because of less pain and we didnt have to see the needle go in. After the insulin types changed and how we gave our injections changed and we moved on to adulthood the “hollows” did go away. Injection time was the 3 of us sitting on the bed with my dad making us “race” to see who could inject the needle into their leg first. And of course one of us had to be the guinea pig to be the first to start getting 2 injections a day. That only last a few years.
Eating time at our house was very entertaining. We had a book that was made to put pictures in, the kind that you flip the pictures up to see the next one. Our book did not have pictures. It had menus and the amount of food each child got. Our drinking glasses were tupperware with different colored lines drawn on them for each child. You only got milt up to the line, that way we didnt have to weigh it each time That book and the food scale we had was our world. We never ate out or went to a friends house for meals in the beginning years, we would have to take the scale with us if we did. Times have definitely changed for the better!!
Richard, Thanks so much for sharing all your stories and pictures.
Hello T1d50+, your reply is interesting, a family with three T1 kids. Wow! I was the only T1 on my family tree. No relatives with T1. I never had that fat atrophy problem, but the newer synthetic insulins in the 1990’s caused me to gain weight. I was diagnosed with insulin resistance in 1998, and so I am a T1 with a T2 characteristic. I use Metformin along with my insulin. It is working very well. I hope that you and the other two T1 members of your family are well, and are enjoying your lives.
Wow reading all those stories was so fun! Thank you all for sharing those memories! I hope one day I can do the same!
Type 1 Diabetic here, I love beer and I drink it all the time!
I like to take whisky.
I love this whole post. When I was diagnosed in the 80s, I thought the world would end. I was depressed about how awful it was to have to stick myself several times a day. And remember that I couldn’t do anything because I was suddenly a liability. I even had to sit there on the floor while everyone else had gym class. No field trips, definitely no overnights. And I remember being so pissed about that because my parents had no involvement whatsoever in my care. Being diagnosed at 8, they thought I was old enough to learn to do it all by myself. In retrospect, they were wrong. I wasn’t responsible enough at 8 to care. Was very mad, very bad, and very non-compliant. Hmmmph!
I’ve only recently decided I need to get serious about managing my disease. I love my life, and I’d love to stick around and enjoy it for a while.
I had heard stories about my grandma’s glass syringes, but not much else other than that they needed boiled. And for some reason, she never learned to inject herself. My grandfather did it until she passed away from the complications a few months before I was diagnosed.
I didn’t have enough detail about the past to understand just how fortunate I was to be diagnosed as late as I was. Thank you for the new perspective!