When I was 34, I started having trouble with hypoglycemia. I went from a size 8 to a 14 that year. I didn't know what it was at the time. I just knew I'd come in from the barn and have to crawl up the stairs to the kitchen feeling so weak I couldn't stand. I would snack until my body felt right. My doctor at the time kept making changes to my diet and exercise, assuming I was Type 2. I changed doctors after almost a year and was given a meter to monitor my BG levels. After 2 weeks of seeing "hi", the nurse took bloodwork, gave me and insulin pen with instructions on how to use it, and sent me to the ER. she said she'd fill the doctor in when she saw him on Monday (this was Friday.) I spent 4 hours in the ER on IV insulin and fluids. I was severely dehydrated. The bloodwork came back showing me as a type 1. My BG was over 700. Saturday night I was back for another 4 hours and told if it did not come down they were admitting me. I got lucky. It went down and stayed there. I was given a class on diabetes and education on eating, carb counting, etc. At 35 I was the first female in my family to be a type 1. That nurse saved me. I decided that I couldn't rely on just the doctors. I needed to be an expert with this stupid disease.
Diabetes doesn't stop me. I have an insulin pump (Omnipod). I tried the CGM. I have an alert dog so I can ride without fear of lows to make me fall. I camp, hike, and stay as active as my spine will allow me. I teach out in a portable without having to worry about having a low with no other adults around to help. I continue to research any and all options that could help me live a "normal" life. I've learned a lot about diabetes and I am my own best advocate.
Lake Tapps, WA
