Featured Blogger of the Week - March 8-13, Post #2

Featured Blogger of the Week: March 8-13

Joanie Ritchie, mytypeone.com

Post # 2

Lately I have been thinking a lot about how things were when I was diagnosed, what I was told, what I heard, and what I felt. To take you back, it was 1994 and I was 10 years old. At the time I had no idea what diabetes was nor had I ever heard the word...apparently my mom had....she freaked out. But that's not the point. I'm not here to tell you my life story (that was the last post). What I want to bring up is what I was taught in those first few days as a diabetic. I was told a few things that I still remember to this day: 1. It should take about 2 years to get my sugars "under control" 2. There are many complications that can arise if I don't keep my sugars "controlled" and 3. This is a tough time to be diagnosed because puberty will hit soon and that will make things complicated. What I really heard was "In two years if your sugars aren't controlled (which means at about 100 mg/dl at all times) I will get my feet cut off, go blind, have a heart attack, and die young...oh and in 2 years from now, your numbers will be out of control due to puberty." Basically I heard a death sentence.

Looking back, the most striking part of all of that was how for a good 5 years I obsessed over that concept of two years. I honestly thought that what the doctors meant was that i'd have perfect blood sugars in about two years. I thought all diabetics did. Boy was I wrong and boy did it do a number on my emotions. I would lie in bed at night just thinking about that magical number two, thinking things like, "okay it's been 2 and a half years, I wonder how long it takes to start needing your legs cut off, one extra year? two? five?" By the age of 15 I had almost decided that i'd failed already. Not that I was just struggling, going through a rough patch, or even still just NEW at this whole thing, no...I decided that, at the age of 15, I had FAILED at diabetes and thus at life.

Eventually I did some research, met another diabetic or two (I knew them only briefly), and figured out that I wasn't a failure. I was just misinformed. To this day I still can't help but to feel a little resentment for those first few doctors (who i'm sure were doing the best they could, I couldn't imagine teaching this disease to a 10 year old child). I can't help but wish I had started out on a better foot emotionally. If only those doctors knew the person I was and that I am hard enough on myself as it is. The scare tactic really wasn't necessary.

This is one of the reasons that I appreciate every single other diabetic I know either in person or online. You all keep me grounded, give me support, and most importantly make me feel that I am not a failure. I am simply human. I now know that nobody expects perfection; not doctors, not friends, not parents. My only regret is that I didn't reach out sooner. Human contact and support is the most valuable thing since insulin! ;)

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