When I was 10, I got all the typical symptoms of diabetes, and because my uncle was a T1, my mom got me tested.
One morning when I was getting ready for school, the police came to the door asking for me. They told my mom that the hospital couldn't find my contact information, so they enlisted the police to track me down. My mom was to get me to the ER ASAP. My blood sugar level was around 45, and it was life or death.
So my mom took me to the hospital, where I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes and transferred to the city (our local hospital didn't have a pediatric diabetes specialist). I spent the next two weeks learning ALL about diabetes. When they sent me home, I refused to give myself the shots until my mom threatened to take me back to the hospital and I gave in.
Over the years, I've had my ups and downs with my diabetes. I've never been in diabetic shock, but I have had ketoacidosis too many times. I struggle with my blood sugars and have a higher a1c then I (or my endocronologist) would prefer. But I've long ago accepted my disease. Blood sugar monitoring and insulin shots are as normal and natural to me now as breathing. I have many diabetic friends (lifelong friends made at the diabetes summer camp in Ontario, Canada named Huronda) and a great support system.
Although I'd love to see a cure for diabetes in my lifetime, I know it's a part of who I am. Only a part though. I will forever believe that I have diabetes, diabetes doesn't have me. When you let it control your life, you're letting your disease win.
I am now 23 years old, diabetic for 13 long years. And it hasn't beaten me yet.
Collingwood, Canada
