I went to the doctor in June 2007 for a beyond terrible sore
throat. I went to sleep fine the night before and woke up the next morning
thinking for sure I had strep. I weighed 141lb at that appointment and as it
turned out there was nothing (that they could find) wrong with me. They gave me
an antibiotic but told me to wait 24 hours and see if the sore throat went
away. By the next day I was fine and there was no need for the antibiotic
(weird right?). The next few months were some of the roughest I have ever been
through, however I didn't know it at the time.
I started to notice that
I was drinking a lot more (I mean anything I could get my hands on and chug).
People stopped letting me take “sips” of their drinks because they started
realizing I was handing them back an empty cup. On a road trip with my
boyfriend (now husband) I remember him clearly telling me that I did not need
to stop for the 18th time to get something to drink because I “ didn't really know what thirsty was”. Not to mention at this point I had to pee just
about every 5 minutes. What he didn't know was that without something to drink I felt like my tongue was going to shrivel
up and turn to dust inside my mouth, I would get THAT thirsty within minutes. Friends were starting to notice that I
was losing weight and asking what my “secret” was because I was eating like I was
starving. I told them that I may have lost a few pounds and it was probably
just stress (my relationship was starting to fall apart).
Around July it started getting harder for people to wake me
up and I was falling asleep at random times (which is very unlike me). I was
also sleeping until about 2pm every day and then curling up in bed exhausted by
11. It was around this time that I started to notice the raging bitch come out of
me at random times. This is what inevitably ended my relationship, but I will
get to that. In mid July we took a family vacation to Orlando and it became a
running joke that every time we got to the theme park, got off a ride or hell walked
10 minutes I had to pee and then get something to drink. I forgot to mention
that I would base where I went to eat on what they had to drink… Chili’s
strawberry lemonade was my favorite (and I would drink about 15 before dinner
was over.. no joke). But no one suspected anything. During this trip I started
to see just how tired really I was. I would shower sitting down, not even
attempt to blow dry my hair and forget about putting on makeup, It took up too
much energy.
Nick broke up with me August 18, 2007 (don’t worry, we got
back together). This started my downfall. He told me I was crazy and he couldn't deal with it anymore (and he was right). A few days later, in an attempt to change some
things up a bit, I started painting my bedroom. This is when my dad started to
notice that something was wrong. I would paint for about 10 minutes, and just
lay on the floor for about 45. I was EXHAUSTED all the time! He would come in
laughing about how much I had accomplished, so I started painting sitting down.
I then started to notice that food and drinks tasted funny and everything
burned like I was drinking hot sauce. I mean everything burned… even milk. I
went into the bathroom and opened my mouth to see a white/partially green in
places, tongue and in an attempt to tell myself I was fine I grabbed a toothbrush… BAD IDEA. That was pretty painful. I
walked into my dad’s office, asked if “this” was normal and opened my mouth. In
the calmest voice he could he said “I am sure you are fine”. *I forgot to
mention that I am a hypochondriac so
this was normal behavior* It was then, as I turned to leave his office and go
back to my room that he noticed the tank top and sweatpants that once used to
fit were falling off of me. Before I could leave the room he asked me a
question. “I need you to be honest with me, are you bulimic?” I couldn't blame
him for jumping to that conclusion, I looked like I was. The problem was, I ate
more than normal, I was just losing weight (sounds amazing right?).
He waited for me to leave the room before calling my mom and
making me a doctor’s appointment for the next day. I was diagnosed with Adult Onset
Juvenile Diabetes on Wednesday, August 22, 2007 at age 20 (3 months away from
my 21st birthday). I weighed 114lb
at that appointment (I am 5’9). In a matter of 2 months I had unintentionally
lost 27lbs. The sad part was, all I wanted was a sweet tea. Welp.. no more of
that. I had no idea what that meant for me. I went 20 years with no real
problems, how was I supposed to know that one little diagnosis would change my
life forever. I hit my lowest point with the diagnosis about 6 months later
when it hit me that this was a life-long thing. I guess I was in
denial before then thinking it would magically go away somehow. But just like
the depression hit me one day, there was a day that I woke up and finally
accepted that this is who I am now. Diabetes is a hard thing, and it is a constant
struggle and something I will forever worry about but it is not something that
will hold me back or keep me from achieving my goals. If anything diabetes is
the reason I am where I am today. I don’t claim to be an expert and I am not
living the way that I should most of the time.. I am just a 26 year old still
trying to figure out how to manage my disease.
