In every T1D's life, there is a period of denial that happens. It can be denial about actually having it, or denial about what one has to do all day to stay in control of blood sugars and life in general. Usually during this time, a T1D just doesn't want to have anything to do with insulin or blood or needles. It is a very big and frustrating job to be your own pancreas. It takes its toll after a while because there are no breaks whatsoever. It is so constant, but it has to be.
My diagnosis was my close call story #1. Now I need to share my close call #2 story which is also my "denial" story. I was a late bloomer in the denial department, but you can bet I learned a lot from my own personal stupidity.
When I was 20 or so years old, I think 20, I went through some pretty intense depression and hatred toward T1D. As many can relate, it was mostly financially motivated. I was going to school, working, and I was no longer on my parent's insurance because the policy didn't insure us kids after a certain age. I was working at a shoe store where I had an extremely inadequate policy that covered almost nothing.
In my situation at the time, I didn't bring in much money at all. My insulin was basically bought with a discount card that didn't take off nearly enough. My wonderful parents helped me where they could and surprised me with a vial or two of insulin when they had enough to do so. I come from a large family though, and insulin can break you if you have to pay a large copay or hundreds of dollars out of pocket like I had to.
If you know me well, you know I don't ask for help if I can find even the slightest way of taking care of business on my own. In my frustration with costs and with having T1D in the first place, I started taking very little insulin. It was nowhere near enough. Some days, I would just inject a little bit of Lantus (long acting insulin) and then go about my day eating like a normal person would but without any Humalog (short acting insulin) to cover the food I was eating. I couldn't afford it, so I just wasn't going to take it. I wasn't checking my blood sugars like I should have been. Some days, I didn't check at all. I didn't want to see the number, and I especially didn't want to know how high it was. Worst of all, I wasn't sharing any of this with my parents. Big no-no, I know that now. I was just so angry with it all, and with the fact that I couldn't seem to do it on my own.
Please know that I don't personally remember hardly any of the story as I was completely out of it during the majority of it. I can say, I'm glad I don't remember it too. I think that's part of God's mercy toward me! It was a very embarrassing situation.
One day, my Mom had come up to my room, I think to wake me up for the day. She told me she came back downstairs and told my Dad that I was up in my room talking to people that weren't there. Naturally concerning, no doubt! They must have figured out what was going on because they got me out of the house and drove me to the hospital that was about 10 minutes away. In the car, I remember even now playing with my cell phone in the back seat. One of the very few memories I have of the day. Well my parents tell me that it wasn't my cell phone. It was my Dad's work glove that I was thinking was my cell phone. They said I was sitting back there just chattering to absolutely nobody during the entire ride.
We arrived at the hospital, which I don't remember, but I do remember being in the ER and asking for ice chips and water. Then my memory goes again. My parents tell me that when I asked for ice chips and they wouldn't give me any, I got very combative. I was hitting people, swearing at people, and finally they had to restrain me in the bed. I am so glad I don't remember that part. I don't swear normally, and I definitely don't beat people up in my everyday life!
I was in VERY severe DKA (Diabetic Ketoacidosis). My blood sugar had been so high for so long, and my body developed a very huge amount of ketones. Ketones are blood acids that form when your body doesn't have any insulin. It makes a T1D extremely sick and is a potentially fatal complication when not treated immediately. Mine was definitely not treated immediately due to my own personal stupidity. I was pretty far into it, considering I was hallucinating and having all these other horrible symptoms. The hospital my parents took me to is a fairly small hospital, and I am told that the hospital had to call the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN to ask them how to treat me because they had never seen a case of DKA that had gone that far before. I was far nearer to being in a coma, and with very little chance of coming out of it they told us, than I had been at diagnosis.
The hospital was able to keep me there and treat me after being instructed by the Mayo Clinic. They brought me back and I am so very grateful that they did! I am thankful to my parents for their quick action, and for not killing me themselves after learning what I had kept from them!
Once I was back and myself again, some of the ER nurses who had dealt with me, well they came to see me. I told them I couldn't remember them, but that I was thankful to them for helping me. My Mom tells me that they took her aside and said they would have never known I was the same person by how I acted during my crazy ER encounter. They were surprised that I was a nice person when I had some insulin in me!
Why do I share this story? This story was the turning point for me. I learned that I have no choice but to care about the fact that I have T1D. It isn't going away. If I want to live, I have to take care of it. I hope that some other young person will read this story and not make the same decision that I did. All that I accomplished by my denial and rebellion was a very large hospital bill.
Moral of the story, TAKE YOUR INSULIN and CHECK YOUR BLOOD SUGARS!
Don't learn the hard way just how important these things are to you living a normal and happy life.
Well, that's about it for Close Call Story #2. I'll post the 3rd one later, but for now it is about bedtime. Sweet dreams sweethearts!
If you know me well, you know I don't ask for help if I can find even the slightest way of taking care of business on my own. In my frustration with costs and with having T1D in the first place, I started taking very little insulin. It was nowhere near enough. Some days, I would just inject a little bit of Lantus (long acting insulin) and then go about my day eating like a normal person would but without any Humalog (short acting insulin) to cover the food I was eating. I couldn't afford it, so I just wasn't going to take it. I wasn't checking my blood sugars like I should have been. Some days, I didn't check at all. I didn't want to see the number, and I especially didn't want to know how high it was. Worst of all, I wasn't sharing any of this with my parents. Big no-no, I know that now. I was just so angry with it all, and with the fact that I couldn't seem to do it on my own.
Please know that I don't personally remember hardly any of the story as I was completely out of it during the majority of it. I can say, I'm glad I don't remember it too. I think that's part of God's mercy toward me! It was a very embarrassing situation.
One day, my Mom had come up to my room, I think to wake me up for the day. She told me she came back downstairs and told my Dad that I was up in my room talking to people that weren't there. Naturally concerning, no doubt! They must have figured out what was going on because they got me out of the house and drove me to the hospital that was about 10 minutes away. In the car, I remember even now playing with my cell phone in the back seat. One of the very few memories I have of the day. Well my parents tell me that it wasn't my cell phone. It was my Dad's work glove that I was thinking was my cell phone. They said I was sitting back there just chattering to absolutely nobody during the entire ride.
We arrived at the hospital, which I don't remember, but I do remember being in the ER and asking for ice chips and water. Then my memory goes again. My parents tell me that when I asked for ice chips and they wouldn't give me any, I got very combative. I was hitting people, swearing at people, and finally they had to restrain me in the bed. I am so glad I don't remember that part. I don't swear normally, and I definitely don't beat people up in my everyday life!
I was in VERY severe DKA (Diabetic Ketoacidosis). My blood sugar had been so high for so long, and my body developed a very huge amount of ketones. Ketones are blood acids that form when your body doesn't have any insulin. It makes a T1D extremely sick and is a potentially fatal complication when not treated immediately. Mine was definitely not treated immediately due to my own personal stupidity. I was pretty far into it, considering I was hallucinating and having all these other horrible symptoms. The hospital my parents took me to is a fairly small hospital, and I am told that the hospital had to call the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN to ask them how to treat me because they had never seen a case of DKA that had gone that far before. I was far nearer to being in a coma, and with very little chance of coming out of it they told us, than I had been at diagnosis.
The hospital was able to keep me there and treat me after being instructed by the Mayo Clinic. They brought me back and I am so very grateful that they did! I am thankful to my parents for their quick action, and for not killing me themselves after learning what I had kept from them!
Once I was back and myself again, some of the ER nurses who had dealt with me, well they came to see me. I told them I couldn't remember them, but that I was thankful to them for helping me. My Mom tells me that they took her aside and said they would have never known I was the same person by how I acted during my crazy ER encounter. They were surprised that I was a nice person when I had some insulin in me!
Why do I share this story? This story was the turning point for me. I learned that I have no choice but to care about the fact that I have T1D. It isn't going away. If I want to live, I have to take care of it. I hope that some other young person will read this story and not make the same decision that I did. All that I accomplished by my denial and rebellion was a very large hospital bill.
Moral of the story, TAKE YOUR INSULIN and CHECK YOUR BLOOD SUGARS!
Don't learn the hard way just how important these things are to you living a normal and happy life.
Well, that's about it for Close Call Story #2. I'll post the 3rd one later, but for now it is about bedtime. Sweet dreams sweethearts!
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