Friday, July 27, 2018
I wish I knew
Obviously getting diagnosed with diabetes was a life changing moment, and like any life changing moments, your mind captures those memories like a photo album in your mind. When I think about my first days of diagnosis, it takes me back to my parent's house, I see myself sitting on the couch in the family room. Not facing forward, but facing backwards towards my mom who was often in the kitchen, I don't recall the exact conversations but I do find myself in that moment, on that couch, looking at my mother.
While I don't remember exact conversations that took place, I do remember a feeling. A feeling that I was somehow failing at diabetes. I never dealt with a disease before. I had headaches, belly aches, even a kidney infection once, but never did I have a disease I had to manage on my own. I grew up taking Tums to calm my belly and Tylenol to heal my head but, I was now working with a much different monster.
This monster, diabetes, came with medicine, like the other ailments I had growing up, but instead of taking what was prescribed and letting the magic of medicine do its work, I was now in charge of the dosages. Me, eighteen, trying to figure out what I needed to keep my blood sugars in target. Calculating carbs and correcting for my mistakes. I had this misconception that once I was diagnosed and on insulin, I was going to fix the broken part of me, and move on.
Why isn't this insulin working? was the feeling I had.
Of course it was working, there was nothing wrong with the insulin, it was not too hot, nor cloudy or expired, it was diabetes that wasn't working. It was the misconception that I had been telling myself that I was doing something wrong, I must be. My blood sugars are scattered, staggering high and low, never really running a straight line. I was taking my medicine, I was following directions - I was doing something wrong.
But, I wasn't. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't being good nor bad. This wasn't like healing a headache or upset stomach, this wasn't about getting better and moving on. It was a harsh introduction to a disease that doesn't always cooperate. It was an introduction to myself as my own doctor, having to really learn about my body, and listen closely to myself, pay attention to patterns, and most importantly accept the highs and lows as they come.
There wasn't going to be a straight line that lasted forever. It was going to be a ride. I wish I knew this from day one.