On July 17, 2013 I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. When I heard those words I was in complete and utter shock. I mean how could I, a 15-year-old kid have this disease? Type 2 targets seniors, not adolescences, at least thats what I was told, but there I was 15-years-old with Type 2. I felt confused, scared, guilty, angry, hurt. I had all these emotions swirling inside of me and I felt like I didn't have anyone to talk to, like I was alone. I left the doctors office that day feeling completely betrayed. How could my own body do this to me!?
The rest of that day was a blur. Everything was happening so fast and yet taking so long. I remember a few things though, like; my room, the tests, and my parents. I remember my room at the ER was boring. There was a bed, some drawers and cabinets, and tools hung up on the wall for the doctor to use. That was it. There wasn't even a TV. I had no way to distract myself from what was going on. I just sat there and went over every scenario in my head. Would I still be here if I had done this? Would I still be here if I hadn't? Was there anything that I could have don different? That was the most torturous. Not the needles, not the IV, not the physical damage, but the mental. Being stuck in that room with nothing but my thoughts, that was truly the most painful experience.
At first I didn't mind the test. I knew that the doctors were just trying to help. I figured, since I have this disease now I might as well get use to being poked and prodded by needles. I was stuck with it, there was nothing I could do. So I just sat in that room and let the doctors run their tests. But they just kept coming in. All the doctors and the nurses, they wouldn't leave me alone. They kept taking blood, checking vitals, taking all different types of samples. I wanted them to leave so I could go to sleep. I had hoped that it was a terrible nightmare, that when I woke up I would be at home and all would be right in the world. When the tests came back positive that I was Diabetic my world shattered.
My parents were very upset. They blamed themselves for what I was going through. They thought that because their child was sick then it was their fault. They felt that because they couldn't keep me safe from this, they failed. They began to question themselves the exact same way I did when I was in that room. I've replayed it over and over in my mind and there was absolutely no way to prevent this from happening. It took some time, but my parents realized it too. Slowly they helped glue my world back together piece by piece. They became my rocks. My mom and dad both changed their lifestyles to fit mine so that I wouldn't feel alone in this process. They strengthened me, they guided me, they made me realize that if I could get through this then I can get through anything. I have never loved them more in my life than in those moments. When I needed them they went above and beyond to help me. They saved me.
A few weeks after my diagnosis I went to see my doctor. While there I was told that with the right diet and exercise I could actually get rid of this disease. Type 2 Diabetes can be beaten, it gave me hope! So I quickly fell into a routine. I would get up take my pills (I was prescribed a drug called Metformin to keep my sugar levels in a normal range) eat breakfast, got to school, eat a healthy lunch, and then come home and eat dinner with my family. I completely cut out alls carbs; no sodas, no cakes, no ice-cream, no breads, if there were carbs I would not eat it. I ate only proteins, fruits, and veggies and I lost over 20 pounds. It seems that my health was getting better right? Wrong. My new lifestyle worked for about five months then everything went downhill. My sugar levels went were through the roof and no matter what I did they would not go down. The pills that I was on actually made me sick. So the good doctor told me that I needed to use an insulin pen. One shot before bed every night, no problem. Again that did not help, my sugars started going crazy once more.
My mom got fed up with my sugars being so out of control and the doctor not doing anything about it. So she called an Endocrinologist (a diabetic doctor). January 2014 I went to Florida to meet with the Endocrinologist. After telling her about my story, I could tell she was annoyed. She then explained to me that it is very odd for a patient my age to be tested primarily for Type 2 Diabetes, when this specific disease targets seniors. She ran some test on me and discovered that I was Type 1. This was the reason why I had such a hard time controlling my sugars. It was because I was being treated for the wrong disease. The hope that I had earlier faded away. Type 1 meant that there was no hope. Type 1 can't be cured. Now instead of giving myself one shot once a day, I have to shoot myself every time I eat. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, before I can eat I have to shoot up. I thought finding out I was Diabetic was hard, but finding out I was Type 1 was cruel.
I was blessed with the best. My doctor didn't waste anytime in preparing me for my new life. She sent me to classes to learn about my new illness and how to take care of it. She taught me about the differences between Type 1 and 2. With her help I learned how to use a meter to check my blood sugar. She then showed me how to calculate the amount of insulin I should take based on the numbers that my meter reads as well as the carb ratio factor. She helped me feel in control of my body again.
October 2015 she recommended a pod. A pod is a small device that holds up to 200 units of insulin and can last for 3 days (pictured above). What I have to do is fill a syringe with 200 units and inject it into the pod. Then I place the pod on my body and it pumps insulin for me. All I have to do is check my sugar and enter in the carb ratio of the foods. Pretty simple right? Well I began to take advantage of it. I started slacking off on checking my sugars, I got lazy with counting the carbs, I started eating super unhealthy. It really took a toll on my body, to say she was mad was an understatement. At one of my appointments we had a "Come to Jesus Meeting". She tore into me and ever since then I have been doing my best at keeping my levels in a normal range. I'm so thankful that God lead me to her. She empowered me and told me I should embrace my pod, not be ashamed of it.
Ever since that day, my life has been pretty crazy. I've had so many health scares in the past 3 years than I'll care to admit. It always seems like I'm about to catch a break and then something bad happens. My friends and family have stayed by my side through everything, good or bad. I'm 18 years old I have been through Hell and back. I have been beaten down by life. I have been scarred both figuratively and literally. I have had moments where I just wanted to give up the fight. But because of my family I have to keep fighting, I can't give up on them.
