type1tootsie

I’ve been encouraged many times over to begin blogging about Type 1 diabetes and my hand-in-hand daily walk with the disease. The blog site has been set up for almost a month and yet I haven’t found the courage to write. What do I say? Does anyone want to listen? Can I really help someone else in their daily walk with diabetes? Am I ready for the possible onslaught of scrutiny about my thoughts? Well, here are the answers: I don’t know, perhaps so, I would hope, and probably not. I don’t know where to begin so to quote one of my favorite movies, “let’s start at the very beginning”.

My name is Christin. I am a woman, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a granddaughter, a niece, a cousin, and a friend. I am sensitive yet I am fierce. I am fair. I am a perfectionist, stubborn, and sometimes a little too critical of others (I promise I’m working on those). I am a Christian. I am a musician. I am a patriot. I am an Air Force brat and a “retired” Air Force wife. Oh yeah….I’m also a Type 1 diabetic. All of these things and more define me.

It is certain that I will blog about all of those aspects, and more, but for now I will start with the reason I’m writing: Diabetes. My life was diabetes free for almost 18 years. It’s amazing to me that so many years have passed yet I remember the summer I was diagnosed like it was yesterday. I graduated from high school and promptly got my first job to help pay for college in the fall. I worked at Women’s Hospital in Las Vegas, NV. I was the Medical Staff Office Secretary and loved my job. Although I was still only 17, I took my position very seriously. I dressed in my best professional clothing, filed like a pro, had a water bottle by my side at all times, and took advantage of making my own decisions by treating myself to M&M’s and a Coke Classic almost every afternoon around 3:00pm. I felt like I had arrived! In August, about three weeks before I was planning on heading to Texas for my first semester of college, I started feeling strange. I have never really had a good description of my feeling except that I felt like I was on a constant adrenaline rush – the kind you feel when you are keeping a secret and don’t want to get caught (not that I know what that feels like, mind you).  I remember talking to my boss (it was just the two of us in the office) about the way I felt and she encouraged me to take advantage of the free employee physical my job afforded me before leaving for school. I could get the all the lab work done right there in the hospital and it would be very easy. I shrugged my shoulders and reluctantly agreed….I really hated needles and had been trying to get out of that physical ALL summer long. Well, within 30 minutes of doing my lab work (including a urinalysis), I was called to back to the lab and told that I should probably go to out to Nellis Air Force Base (where I was regularly seen) and get checked out.

With my lab results in hand, I headed out to Nellis. Once there I was told to come back in the morning for a glucose tolerance test and we’d go from there. I went with my Mom, who told me that she had done a glucose tolerance test with each of her pregnancies to test for gestational diabetes. I think I was still clueless at that time – I was more focused on getting packed and heading off to college. After we arrived at the hospital, the lab tech called me back to get a baseline glucose reading before handing me the delicious, sugary concoction I would be treated to. I never got to taste that sugary concoction. My fasting glucose that morning was over 350 mg/dl. 350. That is sobering to me now. I was quickly taken to the internal medicine clinic and was met by a doctor who blurted out, “you have diabetes”. What? When? How? WHAT? Before I could even process the information the doctor started shooting questions at me….questions for which I didn’t seem to provide the “correct” answers. Have you had a weight loss? No, I’ve always been thin. Have you been tired? No (don’t teenager sleep after a hard day at school/work?) Have you had excessive thirst? Not that I know of, I’m a working girl that always has a bottle of water with me. Do you tinkle lots….okay, the doc didn’t ask the question exactly like that. Well, yes, like I said, I always have a bottle of water with me. Who in your family has diabetes? No one has diabetes. Parents? No. Siblings? No. Grandparents? No Aunts, uncles, cousins? No, no, no. They were baffled…I was confused….my parents were stunned. And yet, my only question for the doc was, “will I still be able to go to college?” The doc asked where I was going and I proudly said, “Sam Houston State University, to study music”. Would you believe the doctor said I needed to wait at least a semester? Hello? I was going to college! What was she thinking? Obviously her mind was not in sync with mine….or, as we say in my family “she didn’t read the script”. When it was apparent to my parents and doctors that I was set on leaving, I got a crash course in all the new “don’ts” in my life and that I would have to wake up and go to bed at the same time everyday and eat pretty much the same foods at the same time every day. Are you kidding me? There was no way I had this disease they were talking about. I didn’t have any of the symptoms they asked me about and no one in my family had been plagued with it!

Fast forward a couple of weeks and this stubborn cookie was getting settled in her dorm at SHSU. Looking back on it I know my parents must have been racked with worry and yet I still don’t think even they understood the gravity and responsibility of the disease – I know I certainly didn’t. We kissed goodbye a couple of days before my 18th birthday and I was focused on becoming the best musician I could be and proving that I did not have diabetes (I didn’t bother to share the latter with anyone else). I quickly made friends and started enjoying the college life. I went to over/under bars and danced until I had blisters on my feet….then I danced some more. I drank tons of water and was in the bathroom “tinkling” non-stop. Everyone noticed, but me, how much I drank and tinkled. I ate Hagen Daaz ice cream by the pint and shrugged off the 5:00 pm daily suppers of steamed chicken or fish, collard greens or spinach, and a roll my parents worked so hard to get the cafeteria halls to prepare especially for me. I didn’t miss my daily dose of Glucotrol (the doctors had yet to determine if I had Type 1 or 2) or Tuesday morning glucose checks at the clinic, though. I hated it….no lancets then – manual, deep finger pricking that brought tears to my eyes every time. Always, my fasting sugars were above 200. I had no idea then (and I think now neither did the clinic) that weekly checks did NOTHING for me. Because my sugars were so high, my immune system was greatly compromised and within a month of being in school I got strep throat. I was so, so sick. Matters were not made easier by out of control sugars. They affected my physical as well as my mental wellbeing. I know that now. The entire semester came close to being a wash. I felt like a failure and yet I was determined to enjoy my time home during Christmas, regroup, and head back to school to try again. I was so naïve.

Of course, “regrouping” included a doctor’s appointment with a new doctor who gently said, “I’ll give you two weeks to stick to a strict diet and exercise plan. If your sugars don’t come down then we’ll have to put you on insulin.” Well now, remember, I didn’t like needles so I stuck to the plan. Unfortunately it was quickly evident to me and the doctor that I needed to be on insulin. I thought it was my fault; that I wasn’t doing enough. I know now that there is nothing I could have done. At some time in my teenage years, my own body had turned against me and my pancreas barely made any insulin at all. I was not my fault. Did I think for a minute about staying home? NO!!! I had a plan to go back to school and take on my new life with gusto…..until about midnight the day of my flight. My bags were packed and lined up by the door ready to go and I remember quietly, feeling full of shame, going to my parents’ bedroom and tearfully admitting that I couldn’t do it alone. I was afraid; oh, Lord, I was so afraid. My parents showed me so much love and understanding that night. And still, not one of us understood the path ahead, but we were going to face it together. I needed them.

Diabetes entered my life at a very interesting and challenging time. According to privacy laws, my parents no longer had the right to know anything and everything about my medical care. I’m sure they wanted to play a more active role in my care but they were trying to balance their involvement with my need to grow up and take responsibility for my own health. I feel strongly that as much as I knew I needed them, I allowed that underlying struggle to be the foundation of many of our arguments. Not only did I have to deal with my health and how it affected my family but I had to deal with the fact that “life” had pulled the rug out from under me. I didn’t make a plan for what to do if I couldn’t go to the school of my choice. I felt like I was stopped dead in my tracks. I decided to go back to work at the hospital and take time to get to know my disease. That plan worked until my Dad received orders to pack up and move to Ohio. I had three choices – stay in Vegas, go back to Texas, or pack up with the family and move to Ohio. I chose to go with my family. As desperately as I wanted to be independent, I had learned that the only way I was going to even have a chance to live normally was to do it with a strong support system around me. My family is so very strong. Little did I know that within two years of moving to Ohio I would meet strength personified – my Tom….my kind, patient, loving, doting, handsome husband. You will get to know him very well as my blogs start flowing. We have a story totally worth sharing but I’ll save that for another time. God also blessed me with little clones of their father in the strength category. Tom and I have three children that continue to amaze and challenge me….challenge me daily to be healthy and amaze me with their willingness to help (okay, so those aren’t the only things they amaze and challenge with but we’ll stick with that for now).

In the almost 21 years I have lived with diabetes my life has been overflowing with incredible highs and devastating lows. I do wish I could go back and change some of the decisions I’ve made over the years (don’t we all) but I think all in all things are just fine the way they are. I am not the perfect patient…remember, I am one stubborn cookie! In the last six months, though, I have somehow found a way to take control. I’ve been able to look back on challenges and adventures with a new perspective. I think it’s time to share…