When I Was First Diagnosed

When I was first diagnosed…I wasn’t worried about the shots.  I can handle the needles, I told myself.  It’s just a little prick...  Besides, it was funny watching my parents trying to draw up some insulin as I sat in the hospital bed a few feet away.  But what about the food?  What can I never eat again?  What is off-limits, so to speak?  Sounds funny, doesn’t it?  After everything thrown my way that weekend…the hospital clothes, the IV drip, the ambulance ride.  All I cared about was the food.  However, it doesn’t sound so silly to me now.  I guess back then food meant restrictions.  It meant 22 carb snacks and 45 carb meals three times a day.  It meant that if I was hungry…I was cut off.  It meant that if I was full…I wasn’t done.  It meant that if I wanted freedom…I had none.  At a birthday party, if it wasn’t time for a snack or meal, I couldn’t join in with the rest of my friends.  At a soccer game, half-time, those pre-sliced oranges just weren’t for me.  I couldn’t wrap my brain around it.  My entire world was about to change and all I really wanted to do was go back to that morning when a woman named Jackie came to our school for a presentation…and my life was normal.

When I was first diagnosed…I asked the question...I’m sure you’ve heard it: “did you eat too much sugar?”  Yep, I asked it.  And yet, when others ask me, I scoff at their ignorance.  Yet I asked it just the same.  I was misinformed, I was confused, I was ignorant.  I thought I caused it, that I was to blame, that my change of world was caused by none other than yours truly.  I asked the question.

When I was first diagnosed…I watched my mom nearly faint and my dad almost cry.  My sister bewildered, my friends oblivious.  And I, eight years old, lie in a hospital bed wondering why I was there and what the future held.  I thought about that a lot for the next couple of weeks.

But when I was first diagnosed, I didn’t know all the options.  That I could have an insulin pump that could allow me to regain a lot of that freedom I had felt I lost.

But when I was first diagnosed, I didn’t know all the information.  That I didn’t cause my disease, that I wasn’t to blame.

But when I was first diagnosed, I didn’t know how diabetes would affect my life.  That a perfectly normal and livable life was not out of my reach.

When I was first diagnosed…I didn’t know a lot of things.

But now I do.

Type 1 Diabetes is manageable, ladies and gentleman.  It’s hard at times...but hey, what doesn’t kill ya makes you stronger. :)  Us type oners (not a word LOL) are strong people.  We are strong and tolerant and empathetic and impressive.  We are brave and understanding and at times underestimated.  But do not underestimate us, world.  We are pretty cool people. :)