- Messages
- 1
- Type of diabetes
- Type 1
- Treatment type
- Insulin
On 1st August 1985 I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes mellitus in Torbay hospital, Torquay, aged 11 years old. We were on a family holiday and I was showing the classic symptoms: sluggishness; a terrible thirst; regular trips to the toilet; more mood swings than usual for an overly energetic 11 year old boy. Thankfully, my parents were on the ball and took me quickly to hospital before my blood sugar level got really high and major complications took hold. 1st August 1985 however was the day my life changed irrevocably forever.
In the last 30 years I must have injected various types of insulin into my body on close to 100,000 occasions. I've had so many injections that I'm running out of useable injection sites. I will have taken 100,000 finger prick blood tests. I take extra tablets each day. I have had hundreds of hypoglycaemic episodes where my blood sugar is too low, thankfully the vast majority have been 'minor'. I have had many periods of hyperglycaemia, where I struggle to bring my blood sugar levels down. Rarely do I have a day when every time I test my blood my levels spot on. Both hypoglycaemia and hyperglycaemia will make anyone physically ill, can be a huge psychological strain and if left untreated can be fatal. These are everyday facts of life for any type 1 diabetic to deal with.
I've been hospitalised twice, once I was in a diabetic coma for two days. I've suffered diabetes burnout twice: firstly, an early inability to accept the condition; more recently 5 years' worth of counselling and treatment for anxiety and depression when I'd had enough of the 24 hour daily physical and psychological grind of diabetic management. I've bounced back from all of these and am still grateful when I make it to the end of each week in once piece.
I've managed the daily blood sugar turbulence in the best way that I can, and I've learnt to cope with the overwhelming mood swings that high and low blood sugars can bring. I've dealt with the realisation that a career as a sportsman would never happen and routes into certain professions were not open to me.
I've taken important examinations at school and attended important meetings and interviews at work when concentration is impossible due to blood sugar swings. I can drift in and out of social conversations, with friends and colleagues oblivious, when immediate concentration on my diabetes is required.
Although I have the occasional sweet treat these days I've turned down the well-meaning offers of chocolate from colleagues, family and friends a thousand times. I pick up bags full of medication from the pharmacy every month. I don't have any food without firstly working out how much insulin I will need to inject. Eating is a constant mathematical equation. I have injected in hundreds of public places. I've dragged myself to social events and to work many times over the years when all I really want to do is curl up and sleep in the hope that I'll awake diabetes free.
I know not to the leave the house without my insulin, blood testing equipment and my precious lucozade. Exercise, stress, injection sites, illness, even the weather can have an effect on my diabetic control. Every evening I complete a blood sugar diary of my daily readings, using adverse results to make changes to the following days' routine.
I never ever switch off from my diabetic life. Every day can be physically and emotionally draining.
Yet through all the adversity that type 1 diabetes can bring I live a relatively 'normal' and healthy life. I can work, have a family, exercise, socialise, travel and eat and drink more or less whatever I choose. The doctors and nurses in our wonderful National Health Service tell me I'm doing OK and so far I've managed to avoid any major complications. Life could be a hell of a lot worse.
I have long-since ignored the frequent claims of a cure to this maddening condition. Although the well-known complications will take hold eventually I try to embrace diabetes for what it is and the challenges it brings.
Whether you're newly diagnosed, a few years in, or over 30 years in, and however you choose to manage your diabetes, I take my hat off to you. Type 1 diabetes is a tough gig, but it can be managed.
Here's to the next 30 years
In the last 30 years I must have injected various types of insulin into my body on close to 100,000 occasions. I've had so many injections that I'm running out of useable injection sites. I will have taken 100,000 finger prick blood tests. I take extra tablets each day. I have had hundreds of hypoglycaemic episodes where my blood sugar is too low, thankfully the vast majority have been 'minor'. I have had many periods of hyperglycaemia, where I struggle to bring my blood sugar levels down. Rarely do I have a day when every time I test my blood my levels spot on. Both hypoglycaemia and hyperglycaemia will make anyone physically ill, can be a huge psychological strain and if left untreated can be fatal. These are everyday facts of life for any type 1 diabetic to deal with.
I've been hospitalised twice, once I was in a diabetic coma for two days. I've suffered diabetes burnout twice: firstly, an early inability to accept the condition; more recently 5 years' worth of counselling and treatment for anxiety and depression when I'd had enough of the 24 hour daily physical and psychological grind of diabetic management. I've bounced back from all of these and am still grateful when I make it to the end of each week in once piece.
I've managed the daily blood sugar turbulence in the best way that I can, and I've learnt to cope with the overwhelming mood swings that high and low blood sugars can bring. I've dealt with the realisation that a career as a sportsman would never happen and routes into certain professions were not open to me.
I've taken important examinations at school and attended important meetings and interviews at work when concentration is impossible due to blood sugar swings. I can drift in and out of social conversations, with friends and colleagues oblivious, when immediate concentration on my diabetes is required.
Although I have the occasional sweet treat these days I've turned down the well-meaning offers of chocolate from colleagues, family and friends a thousand times. I pick up bags full of medication from the pharmacy every month. I don't have any food without firstly working out how much insulin I will need to inject. Eating is a constant mathematical equation. I have injected in hundreds of public places. I've dragged myself to social events and to work many times over the years when all I really want to do is curl up and sleep in the hope that I'll awake diabetes free.
I know not to the leave the house without my insulin, blood testing equipment and my precious lucozade. Exercise, stress, injection sites, illness, even the weather can have an effect on my diabetic control. Every evening I complete a blood sugar diary of my daily readings, using adverse results to make changes to the following days' routine.
I never ever switch off from my diabetic life. Every day can be physically and emotionally draining.
Yet through all the adversity that type 1 diabetes can bring I live a relatively 'normal' and healthy life. I can work, have a family, exercise, socialise, travel and eat and drink more or less whatever I choose. The doctors and nurses in our wonderful National Health Service tell me I'm doing OK and so far I've managed to avoid any major complications. Life could be a hell of a lot worse.
I have long-since ignored the frequent claims of a cure to this maddening condition. Although the well-known complications will take hold eventually I try to embrace diabetes for what it is and the challenges it brings.
Whether you're newly diagnosed, a few years in, or over 30 years in, and however you choose to manage your diabetes, I take my hat off to you. Type 1 diabetes is a tough gig, but it can be managed.
Here's to the next 30 years
