Well, I have Type 1 Diabetes?

Hi, friends! So I’ve been away; for a very long time. I wish I could say I was on an incredible vacay. But not quite. I also assume you’ve figured out why I have been away, from my title.

On the 15th of July, the day after I last posted here, I had to do some blood tests. Now, the reason my dermatologist asked me to do them was because we had discovered I have a chronic and rare disease called Verneuil or Hidradenitis Suppurativa, which is often associated with many other problems, including, you guessed right, diabetes. I did my blood tests in the morning, and to comfort myself after (I absolutely hate anything medical) we got ourselves some McDonald’s breakfast – we had been eating very clean for a few weeks, so what could be the harm, right? Oh, the irony! That same afternoon, I picked up my results from the lab and they came astonishingly high. But really, I had never seen such a high number and I decided to call my dad, who is a pre-diabetic himself, to ask about the results. The paper said we should have a maximum of 120, I had a 355. Just so you get the picture. My dad could not believe it and he said something must’ve been wrong or the results meant something else, because with those numbers, I had to be in the hospital for long then. I will quickly skip to the moment, where, in fact, I went to the emergencies and the doctors had me hospitalised straight after. Can you see the irony now? Hating anything medical and in 23 years, I see myself for the first time ever, in a hospital, not in my country, and completely alone. Fun times, weren’t they? I was seen the next morning by a endocrinologist and I was diagnosed with diabetes.

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And I cried, friends. I cried my heart out, my lungs out, my soul out. I cried for minutes. For hours. For days. For nights. I cried. And then, I was determined. I was going to fight this with all my strength. I would fight just as I had been doing all my life. And I was going to win. Now, diabetes cannot actually be cured. However, I decided I was going to become more active, fit, healthier and would eliminate sugar from my life. I was losing weight. I was focused. I planned it all, in my hospital bed, I have to add. And it was all going to work out just fine. Right?

I went home after 7 days in the hospital. I left with my new machine, my new cool pens and needles, and a smile of determination on my face! When leaving the hospital, my doctor told me my glycaemia numbers would drop, and fast, once I got home, and sooner rather than later, I would say buh-bye to my old pen friends. Exciting, right? My bruised and yellowish thighs and arms and belly would love to kiss them goodbye and slam the door on their faces. And friends, did my numbers drop. Oh, they dropped. I was constantly having hypoglycaemias, which is rather fun, if you think about it! I hadn’t eaten much in the hospital, and most times than not, I would get sick and infest the toilet. But now, friends, I could eat! And I had to eat. So what if I had just finished my lunch two hours ago? Who cares? You’re going to die if you don’t eat, so just eat! And don’t forget to check your numbers half an hour later, even if it’s 1am, and all your eyes want to do is shut themselves off business. And don’t you worry, you can eat even more, because when you check again, you might have an even lower number! But it’s all good, because in my head, it’s definitely better having a small number than a big one. That’s something else they don’t tell you. You’ve been working for two or three years? 10 years maybe? Now, it’s time to go back to school and you’ll be evaluated 6 to 8 times a day! And if you have 130+, you’ll depress and hate yourself and go through every thing you’ve done until your next evaluation, 4 hours later. Isn’t it just awesome? If you’re a perfectionist and would always excel at school, I’m sorry, love, now you won’t. And even if you do, 4 hours later, you might not. Going back to school and a free 24/7 non-stopping roller-coaster ride, what else could we ask for in life?

Roller coaster

But, I was fighting it, remember? I was kicking diabetes in the bum and telling it, I own my body, and I am the one who’s in control!

Thursday. August 3rd. 16h20 ( GMT+2 ).

Voice message:

‘Hi! This is doctor X, calling from the hospital, and I would like to inform you the results arrived from the lab, and you have antibodies in your organism, which means it is not a type 2 like your dad, but a type 1. So you’ll need the insulin forever. Call me back if you have any questions. Bye.’

Am I a type 1?

I am.

Great.

*FML*

1 week and half, 12 days after I left the hospital, believing I had a type 2. The old people diabetes. The one you can control. The one in which your life can be very normal, sometimes with just pills. The one I was fighting. Sometimes life decides to throw you down. And sometimes, life decides once is not enough, twice neither, but three times and you might finally get what you deserve. In three weeks, I discovered two chronic, rare, difficult diseases, which changed my life completely. I am strong. I am positive. I am a dreamer. But man, when life decides it’s time to test you, you’re never ready. I don’t think anyone ever is really. But, you know, writing all this, reliving all those seconds and days and weeks of despair, fear, hurt, revolt, you may not believe me now, but I am ok with all this now. I have slowly accepted my condition. I am slowly getting up. And I will fight this. I will get on my feet, which I can feel very well – passed that test with flying colours – woohoo! – and I will have a normal life. I have decided that for myself. I will live like anybody else. I will breathe like anybody else. And my life will continue to exist. With highs and lows – just like my glyceamia – but I will be alive. I still have a lot to figure out. A lot to understand. I have discovered this 1 month and a half ago, so there is not much I can teach others who are more experienced than me, but I will teach my friends, my family, my readers, all I know about this disease. Because, even though, I only live knowingly for a few weeks, I soon realised how ignorant people are about Type 1. Please abstain from telling me that if I don’t eat sugar, I’m fine. Or if I exercise more, I’ll be fine. We all wish it was that simple. Trust us.

I will continue posting about this. I will inform and teach, the best I can, according to my own experiences. If anyone has questions, please feel free to ask. We’re all learning. Let’s learn together.

 

My biggest gratitude to all of you, who have read this entirely,

Talk soon, catreaders!

 

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