It was a long time ago, so don’t really remember to much. I can’t remember even knowing what my blood sugar was. I remember going to the hospital before and after school for shots of NPH so my mom could get trained on how to give shots. I wasn’t admitted, but I was the first patient they had tried to stabilize outside the hospital. I was 7, drinking lots of water, loosing weight, lotta bathroom breaks. My mom actually made them test me for D. Her mom had had it, and my breath smelled like “rotten fruit” (symptom of DKA or not brushing well enough…) and her mom’s did also when they had to take her too the hospital.
Using pills to test urine in a test tube (let’s drive by looking in the rearview!), did have disposable syringes, but it seems to me that the needles were an 18-gauge at the time, lot bigger than we have now.
I remember it was a sunny summer day. I didn’t want to get up and go play I was 11. I was at my Grandma’s and she was making calls to get me in to a doc. Then the appointment at the clinic, a few interesting tests. Then straight to the hospital, I didn’t get to stop to get my “stuff” or the addmissions desk. They took me straight to a room. I remember my sister getting pitcher after pitcher of water. And I remember they had to change the sheets after trying to get an IV in my left hand. They decided the veins were collapsed. It went in first try on the right. Then I remember sleeping on my back, I never have slept on my back, except in the hospital. And later that day I remember my grandma being sad when she said she had spoken to my folks. She was never sad that we saw. This was on a Wednesday and I remember feeling better by the time my folks got there on Saturday. Two weeks in the hospital to get control then home to have no control.
I was at University but interning at a firm, and had been losing weight over the holidays and busy (tax) season. I started to not feel well mid March, was feeling sorry for myself, so went to stay at my parents place. I had all the classic symptoms (thirst/urination), including a random rash, and my first yeast problem.
I couldn’t stomach eating much, so I had ice cream, soda and fruit juice through the evening. I woke up at 4 or 5am puking my guts out (body didn’t want any more sugar!), and my Mom said to go to the ER. I said I would later.
Dad and I went to the University of Washington hospital (figuring it would be the best for me) at 10am, they did a finger stick right away, then rushed me into a room for more tests and IV. I was there 5 days, don’t remember my sugars, I think over 500! They did tons of tests, and I had a small visit from a dietitian, saying you can have candy, or a potato, it is all about choices! I remember being sad, thinking I could never have Trix or other sweet cereals!
I had all the symptoms in 3 weeks time…lost every week a couple of kilos, started drinking 4 liters water per day…night leg cramps, loss of eyesight, tongue smelling like lead, lots of ketones !!! to tired to walk or do anything…fell all the time asleep after meals…(so ignorant as I had no clue about diabetes as an illness) and the day I was diagnosed I started also vomiting…got hospitalized for 4 days. My HbA1C was 11.8%
Although I remember many things that happened before I was 3, I honestly do not remember anything to do with my diagnosis day at age 3. I do remember my first shot though. I was not impressed.
My D day was September 23, 1998. I was 14 and my mom called me out of school for the day. The day before, I went to see the gynocologist because my monthly cycles stopped suddenly. My gyno did some blood work and called my mom to tell her her suspicions that I was the first T1D in the history of my family.
When I went to the children’s medical center, I was exhausted. I was so tired that even walking up a flight of stairs was hard work. I was 5’8" and 112 lbs. I have a large skeletal frame. Needless to say, I was skin and bones! I had lost 10 lbs in one day.
They drew up more blood and the doctors left me sitting in the exam room for hours. I remember sitting on the exam table, with my legs dangling underneath, swinging back and forth. I was so scared, but really I just wanted to feel better. I couldn’t remember the last time that I felt GOOD. I still can’t, even 11 years after diagnosis.
The next day, my mom got a call from the hospital with my blood work results. I was, in fact, T1. The following two weeks, I spent time in and out of the hospital while they ran more tests and walked me through injecting an orange, dosing medicines and educating me on what’s in food.
My mom took me to a four town fair the next day. I love that fair, as it comes during the fall every single year.
I diagnosed myself. Of course I remember the doctor’s office, but I really did it.
I remember my husband and me looking at the meter on the diningroom table, then at each other. It was supposed to be HIM! We never thought I would become diabetic. I remember calling my MD friend and leaving a voicemail, crying a little. I had told her I suspected, but she too kind of blew me off. I remember calling my doctor’s office to make an appointment, and bursting into tears on the phone. This would be Feb 4, 2009. Five months ago.
I remember waking up the next morning, opening my eyes, and knowing the rest of my life was going to be different.
I was pretty young when I was diagnosed. I remember weeks of all the typical symptoms. I would wake up in the middle of the night so thirsty I would take a pitcher of juice and guzzle as much of it down as I could(worst thing possible I could have done!). My grandmother was T2 and had my mother use her glucometer to test me. I don’t remember what it read. She took me to the pediatrician and I remember he left the room after doing a test and came back with a somber look asking to speak to my mom outside. He said she must rush me to the hospital now. The next thing I remember is my mom driving me to the hospital in the middle of rush hour in D.C. I remember the look of fear on her face. Once we got there I remember screaming at the top of my lungs when they went to draw my blood because I was so scared of needles! I had to get over that fear REAL quick! But even with the diagnosis at that time and how upsetting it was…I remember the little girl that was in my room diagnosed with cancer. She had the most beautiful long brown hair which she would lose with chemo. They had to amputate her leg and I remember hearing her sobbing with her parents. I learned early on that even when things seem bad…they could always be worse.
Around my 30th birthday I came down with the flu. I was sick for 2-3 days…even though I felt better I never felt back to my old self. About a month later I was getting ready for my daughters birthday. The past month had been filled with constant bathroom breaks, sucking down cokes while waiting for water to boil for tea, fuzzy vision, and an unbelievealbe weight loss of 50 pounds, put me at 83 pds.
While in the shower I suffered a brown out. I told my than husband that I felt terrible. We postphoned the party till the next day and proceeded to the hospital. Once there everyone acted like I was fine and just couldn’t shake the flu…till my test came back over 900 bg. I spent 5 days in the hospital and went to diabetes education classes. Because I was one of the first Adult type ones the hospital had dealt with they weren’t sure where to put me…childrens’ ward where they could train and teach me or have the CDE go to another area of the hospital. I ended up in ICU for the first two days. I started out on Humulin, one of the first in MI, and R for meals. My biggest concern was for my daughter and her birthday. Thankfully most of the work was done and her dad handled it with the help of both grandmas and all the aunts.
My second concern was the way the ER doctor reacted…he stood clear across the ER room and told me I had diabetes and would be injecting insulin for the rest of my life and then he left the room. The nurse who came in with the IV had to answer my questions until my own Dr arrived.
My daughter nor I will forget her 9th birthday. That was 25 years ago, October 15 1984.
I was eating a lot and peeing a lot but I went from 150lbs (i was a fat 11 year old) to 74 in little over a month. My mom threatened me to stop, thinking I was bulimic. I couldnt stop! So she took me to the doctor where my blood sugar didnt even register, I was rushed to the er immediately. we got there in 5 minutes and 5 minutes after that I had IVs in every arm. they drew my blood, which the lab measured to be around 1400. The docs informed my parents that I was seriously 30mins away from death, they didnt understand how i wasnt in a coma. I was delirious… I tried picking everyones noses when they got close to me. I was hospitalized for a week, they let my older bro stay the night with me and play board games all night long, they even moved an extra bed in the room for him. The IV thing kept beeping and i had to take it everywhere like a lost puppy, so I named it sparky. I practiced shots on an orange, my parents gave me a shot and cried and refused to do it again, I knew from then on Id be on my own.
I still have the stuffed cat my grandma gave me in the 4th grade that helped me through that week. I also still have the meal plans for the days I was in the hospital
(and remembered at my own diagnosis) working a as volunteer on a renal floor in the 1970’s (I was 17) and watching a woman die over a month or more, from gangrene. She was elderly, diabetic and refused another amputation. It would have been her FOURTH. I am very motivated by her story.
Wow… what a dramatic weight loss. All in just over a month? I’m glad that you are alive and healthy. That is good that they let your brother stay with you =] It must have been really scary for you since you were so young.
Sophmore year in college – started losing weight, being thirsty all the time, and feeding that thirst with Coke (the regular kind). I went home for spring break, having lost 25% of my body weight, went to my parents’ doctor, and he tested my urine sugar and said “You’re 4+ urine sugar”. I asked him what it meant and he said it meant I was diabetic. Then he got on the phone to find a specialist to send me to, and then to my father. My parents met me at the specialist, and we spent about two hours on education, family history and writing prescriptions – syringes, lente insulin, alcohol swabs, urine test kits, and so on (not to mention a relaxer for my mother) – and going over diets. He never did a BG test that day – just another urine test. I saw him a couple of days later to see how I was doing, and then one more time before I went back to school. I was fortunate – never was hospitalized, never passed out or lost consciousness. Soon put all that weight right back on, and then some.
For me, I had absolutely NO SYMPTOMS. I had applied for a disability insurance policy and had to have a physical. When my blood tests came back, I was shocked to say the least. I went to my doctor to get it confirmed. He was shocked because I was type 2 and again, no symptoms. He got me a blood test monitor and he and the nurse both taught me how to use it. I never had to use one before and I wasn’t sure if the lancet would sting. After the first prick, it was easy. They set me up with some Janumet pills.
Fortunately, I have a good friend who happens to have been a diabetic longer than I have been alive. He actively helps diabetics, both type 1 and 2 and he told me what to do. That was on May 9, 2009. My blood sugar was diagnosed at the level of 267 at fasting. It has come down and stayed mostly down around 100 to 115 since then. He put me on Atkins and this coming Monday, I go to my doctor to see where my A1C is.
I was 6 years old. I remember being thirsty and having to pee a lot. I would pee before we went to the grocery store and then again when we got there. Mom took me to the doctor. I remember him saying, “You have to take her directly to the hospital.” The way he said it was scary. He meant business. It was frightening to have to stay there. I can still see the room. It had a couple of beds that looked like bunkbed cribs, with the bars. I wanted to stay in one of those, upper bunk but they said no. they put me in a regular bed right next to the bathroom. Don’t remember how long I was there. It was spring time. I remember looking out the window. It was the tallest building in town having 5 or 6 floors and an elevator.
After being released from the hospital, I remember mom giving me my shot every morning before I got out of bed. I would put my head under the pillow. One time I made a run for it but eventually they caught up with me. The threat “Wait until your father gets home” was used. That shaped me up in no time. Only one shot a day and urine testing. It’s amazing that we survived those times.
