Firsts

So I am giving myself a shot of another kind here...trying out blogging about diabetes. And since this is the first post, I figure why not write about some diabetic firsts. In fact, the plan is to write about various firsts ALL THIS WEEK. I don't know if you'll be able to stand the suspense, but I hope you'll try. If you're diabetic, you might recognise yourself. Or maybe not, my perspective is limited!

Here's a biggie: My first moment as a diagnosed diabetic.

Haha....Of course I had been diabetic for awhile, but was undiagnosed. I knew I was sick (hard to miss, really), but had been told I was anorexic. Which was interesting to me, considering I was eating enough to feed a small family. Happily eating it, too. I had NOOO issues with food at all, except that I couldn't get enough of it.

Anyway, I obviously digress.

The local doctor called to tell my mother I was diabetic, and that was pretty much all they said. Later, the children's hospital would call and say something along the lines of "Get yourselves in here RIGHT NOW and try not to indulge in any sleeping on the way or you might not wake up". Not kidding, they said that.

Before that call though, I had a day or two to keep on keeping on with what I was doing-knowing I was diabetic, but having no idea what I was supposed to do about it. So I started drinking Diet Coke instead of regular (I was 14...it's been a long time since I enjoyed regular Coke, I'll tell you). And I thought: Huh. Diabetic. Wonder what's going to happen now? Sure hope I can get by with pills.

Um, no, sorry. Doesn't work that way.

Then I went to get myself what we call a poutine-fries with gravy and curd cheese...cause you know there's no sugar in THAT. (Man, you can see I had A LOT to learn...).

I remember once the hospital did call and we went in-I found out all the things I was sort of taking for granted-trouble breathing or catching my breath, hunger, thirst, weight loss, were all signs of how sick I was. I spent a night in intensive care (probably like many of you) apparently clinging to life (no one told me how sick I was). I felt ok, actually, just tired.

Kids at school heard I was dead. Nice.

I was in the hospital for a week. They had classes every day, I learned about being diabetic. Or at least about being diabetic in 1984-a lot has changed and will keep changing, I am sure. But they were my first steps into a deep and unwanted, really, medical knowledge of myself.

Coming soon: more hospital stories. My first Injection and my first Low. Oh, the anticipation ;)