Alana's Story: It's Been Hard, but It's OK

Well, hmmm...where to start...? I guess when I started to show signs of being a Diabetic is a good place. For weeks, months even, I had been getting up in the middle of the night, going to the bathroom, getting a drink and going back to bed. This process would continue throughout the night. Being only 12 years old I didn't think much about it and I just thought that I was thirsty. Like I said before, this had gone on for a while and was progressively getting worse. It now was occurring during the daytime as well. My family and I were going on a trip to New Jersey and coincidentally my thirst became uncontrollable, and the need to urinate seems twice as bad. On the way to New Jersey, we reached the non-stop highway and needless to say I ended up having to collect my urine in the empty soda bottles that I had so recently drank from! My sister mentioned how her friend had recently been hospitalized due to similar conditions and that he turned out to be diabetic. This scared me. I didn't know what Diabetes was and at that point I really didn't want to. All that I wanted to do was find the nearest rest area.

When we reached our destination, there on the table was a large bowl of candy. I proceeded to sit down and consume 95% of the bowl. (when I say 95% of the bowl, I mean I finished the candy and tried to then eat the bowl itself). My father's boss, Dave, (who's house we were at) was a Diabetic and was testing his blood glucose level. Everyone in the family showed an interest and we were all permitted to try. When my turn came around it took nearly an hour just to get my finger pricked deeply enough to draw the right amount of blood. I counted down the 20 seconds just like everyone else had done. And I had done nothing differently than anyone else so why was my number so much higher? Dave's face grew drawn and white as he looked up at me quickly and said "Do you feel OK?". I answered his question: "Yeah, I fell..." He interrupted me in the middle of my answering his question. "Because you, my dear, should be hospitalized right now!!" I was shocked. At first I didn't know what to think, I was only twelve! I couldn't have a "FATAL DISEASE"! What? the machine can't be right, I wasn't going to let it be... Then it hit me. I couldn't deny it. All of the signs had been showing for months now and my blood sugar was higher than it needed to be (568). Pictures were taken that day and I still remember every detail, such as what I wore, what activities we did that day, and even what we ate for dinner.

We went home a few days later and my mother took me to the hospital. They drew blood for a hemoglobin test and also took a urine test (which-believe-me-I had NO problem taking) to test for ketones. My blood test came out to be 347 so they wanted another fasting test (that's where you don't eat before the test). I continued to be tested for three more days and then, when all three tests showed to be in the three hundreds, they diagnosed me as a Diabetic. I was not hospitalized, and they just told me that I should see my

physician sometime within the next month! My mother, knowing a little about the disease, took me within the week. When we got there, my doctor gave me my insulin and showed me how and where I could take my shots. I still had them doing it for a while until I finally found enough guts to try it myself. When I went to school everyone kept their distance, even the teachers. All except Miss C., my home economics teacher, she told me that I should bring in all of my supplies and give a demonstration/explanation about what diabetes is like and how you shouldn't be afraid of it. I went in and explained it all to the best of my knowledge, and got the normal questions: "Is it contagious? Are you going to die soon? How many shots do you have to take? Do you take them yourself?"

Finally I was accepted around my school. But even I didn't know of the hardships to come. Soon I had to start dealing with the school nurse. Yes, the same school nurse that give you a bag of ice if you are vomiting and tells you to go back to class. One time when my blood sugar was low, I had to sit in the office and wait for half-hour for her to get there and unlock the drawer that my glucose tabs were in. (I could have gone into convulsions, or passed out). But today, I have no problem with her because my mother went in and talked to the principal and got my counselor at school to be the one who takes care of all of my needs.

Speaking of my mother, when I was diagnosed I think it hit her pretty hard. Her grandfather had died from it, and her sister has suffered from major complications, so when her youngest daughter got diabetes as well she became extremely worried. My father kept his distance and still does today. My oldest sisters were both supportive and tried to understand the disease so that they could help if anything ever happened. As for my younger brother he just knew what I had and what to do in case of emergency.

I am now fifteen and have had diabetes for just over three years. I have gone to Clara Barton Camp, a diabetic camp for girls in North Oxford, Massachusetts for four years now. I have had this problem thought. I went through this point in my life when I decided that I didn't need to take my insulin. I now realized that this could have killed me, but it didn't. I wasn't trying to commit suicide, I would just go through periods where I would take it and periods where I wouldn't. Even today, I do not take my insulin every time that I should, but I am trying to correct that. The only way that I can explain this is that it's like I am addicted to not taking it. When I do try it's hard. Sometimes I'll draw it up and go to take it and then I won't be able to. Some days I'll be so weak that I life up a piece of paper and can' t catch my breath. My skin get pale and drawn and cuts don't seem to heal as well as they would normally. I don't recommend this or condone it. You should take your insulin. It is a personal problem that I have and I am trying to work out. I am sure that there are others out there who have made the great mistake of not taking their medication. Even though it seems to not have an effect on you (missing even that one time) it does, but your mind just doesn't know it yet. And it's important to get help.