Six Until Me: Your Story

Huh? I Have Diabetes? I Don’t Understand. -  Les's Story.

Diagnosis #1
Wednesday, February 1, 2006 - I spend most of day traveling for business, having a grand time with my travel buddies and learning lots about a new software system that we  were exploring (self-disclosure #1 - I'm a geek. OK, I guess this submission is really self-disclosure #1, so we'll make the geek thing #2).

I get back to work find a message on my home machine from my gynecologist, who I had seen the day before for my annual checkup. (Self-disclosure #3 - that's a lie. It's supposed to be "annual" but I hate going to the doctor, so it had probably been...let's say...a few years.)  The message says to call them immediately because of some lab results. Turns out the same message had been at my home and on my cell phone.

I call the lab nurse, who says that my blood glucose was 283 and it was very high. She said I needed to see my primary care doctor as soon as possible...that same day if possible.

I almost blew off this advice. I was sure that the fact that I had 3 or 4 glasses of wine the night before my labs were taken was the culprit of this strange lab result. (Heh, heh, heh...the joke's on me...alcohol usually LOWERS your blood sugar, I am surprised to learn much later!)

Keep in mind that the lab nurse never said the "D" word, and that I not once made the connection  myself.  "Blood glucose" was just some medical term and I was certain that this was just a simple anomoly.

However, I  made an appointment for the very next day despite the fact it was a total pain in the ass and interfered with my work schedule.

Wednesday, February 2, 2006 - I go the the gyno lab and pick up my lab results, which I then hand deliver to my primary care physician's office. The nurse then stabs my finger with this monster sized needle thing (which I now know is a safety lancet) and collects the blood on a test strip. The doctor comes into see me and says that he's pretty sure I have diabetes.

What?

I don't understand.

What does that mean? That doesn't make sense. I am literally confused at this point because what he has said makes no sense.

The doc says that my labs along with the BG test they just performed are good enough to officially diagnose me with type 2 diabetes. He says they will run another test (turns out to be an A1C) and to come back in a few days when those results are back.

Diabetes?

Huh?

I still don't get it.

I go home. He says, "How was your doctor's appointment? What did they say?" I respond "I have diabetes" and then I burst into tears.

Ah...now I'm getting it.

Diagnosis #2
April 30, 2007 - It's been more than a year since my type 2 diagnosis. I've moved on to a diabetes clinic for treatment. I've taken at various times - metformin, avandia, and glymiperide. I participated in a clinical drug trial for liraglutide, which is a sister drug to byetta.  None of this stuff is having much of an effect. I quit the trial because of awful side effects. So now it is time to develop a new treatment plan.

My endo says, "I think you have type 1 diabetes. Let's run the anti-body test." Sure enough, the anti-bodies are there, and I've now been re-diagnosed as type 1.

Huh?

What does that mean? That doesn't make sense. I am literally confused at this point because what he has said makes no sense.

The doc prescribes insulin, and off I go to explore this whole new world.

Coping
My second diagnosis was in some ways a relief. It explained while oral meds were not working. Insulin actually has improved my life.

But, man oh man...what a shock. It took a couple weeks for it to sink in. I went through the whole process again of wrapping my brain around the idea that I had type 1.

As a result, I started my own diabetes blog called Type-Cast. It has been incredibly helpful on a number of fronts. As a form of self-expression, it helps me not completely wear out family and friends with my constant chatter about my condition. Having others post supportive comments is just that – extremely supportive, despite the fact that I don’t know most of these people in cyberspace. And I have become quite the student of the disease, with others’ d-blogs serving as my textbooks.

One big surprise – the whole “type 1 versus type 2” tension that is out there among PWD. Wow. Not quite sure what to make of it yet.

Here’s self-disclosure #4. I am secretly (guess not so secret now) glad that I am type 1 and not type 2. It means it is not my fault, so I don’t have to feel guilty. I’ve lost 30 pounds post-Dx (and also thanks to an ugly gall bladder situation) and so it is fun to have a brand new body. Nothing like feeling like hot stuff when you are 43!