Dear Diary,
After 12 silent years, I am finally ready to share with you my difficult diagnosis story.
The beginning of my diabetic life.
I was ten years old and away on a school trip when my symptoms quickly started to show.
I didn't think too much about it at the time, but I became incredibly thirsty and horrendously dehydrated
I needed to pee every five minutes, I was lethargic, terribly tired and was drastically losing weight.
All of these symptoms are signs of Type 1 diabetes and if left untreated can cause coma or even death.
When I returned home, my parents knew almost instantly that something wasn't right.
They took me straight to the doctors
But unfortunately, my symptoms were mistaken for a virus instead and I was told to go home and rest.
I tried but couldn't get a single minute of sleep because every single part of me was throbbing.
I was weak and incredibly tired.
Overnight, my condition rapidly deteriorated.
I remember feeling scared at first but as time slowly passed,
I couldn't think about anything other than the fact that I felt like I was dying.
That's because I was.
Over the next few hours, I became violently sick.
I was dehydrated and frail.
No matter how much water I tried to drink, none of it was staying in my body.
Even now, I can still see the painfully ill little girl slumped over the toilet seat, crying for it to all go away.
But it didn't go away. And it will never go away.
By now my mom was in a state of panic.
She had that gut aching motherly instinct that told her something wasn't right.
That it was more than just a virus and her little girl is seriously ill.
My mom thought it had to be Type 1 diabetes.
But our family and friends confidently reassured her that she was wrong.
That we "couldn't have that much bad luck," as my brave mom was fighting cancer at the time.
She was battling for her life while worrying and trying to save mine.
Now convinced and running out of options,
my mom asked our neighbor to come over to the house to test my blood sugar
as her daughter was also a Type 1 diabetic .
I can still see the heartbreak and horror on my mom's face when she read the results.
My blood sugar was so high the meter couldn't even read it.
A non-diabetic's blood sugar should be between 4-8mmol, mine was higher than 40.
My mom ran to the phone and called the hospital begging for someone to help.
The nurse on the phone told her we didn't have time to wait for an ambulance anymore.
We needed to get to the hospital immediately and I needed to be kept awake.
By now, I was drifting in and out of consciousness and my hazed memory
only lets me recall certain moments of that terrifying car journey.
When we got to the emergency room, my mom flung out of the car,
scooped me up in her arms and ran towards the doors.
I remember her screaming for help while a sea of people rushed towards me.
A man with a broken leg who was sitting in his wheelchair instantly lifted himself out
so that my mom could place me down.
I was rushed into the emergency room and placed on a bed.
I remember trying to find the strength to cry; to ask, "What is wrong with me?" To ask if I was going to die?
But I couldn't even do that.
Within minutes doctors began inserting tubes, wires, needles, and hooking me onto machines .
Dozens of doctors, consultants and nurses were huddled at my bedside
with machines screaming in my ears.
At ten years old, I knew then that I was in trouble.
And I was terrified.
The doctors explained that my blood sugar and Ketone levels were too high to read.
And this is where it gets scary.
I was in the late stages of diabetic ketoacidosis, DKA for short, a life-threatening complication for type 1 diabetes.
DKA occurs when there is not enough insulin in the body which is produced by
the pancreas and causes your blood to turn acidic and therefore poisonous.
When this happens an immense strain is put on your body's organs
Your heart, lungs, and kidney can all fail.
Which was what was happening to me.
You can fall into a coma and death can be a very realistic outcome.
The ER doctors were able to stabilize me and transferred me to the children's intensive care unit
where my Dad asked the doctors
"Is my little girl going to be okay?"
Their reply was, "Sir, I can't tell you that, your daughter is in critical condition and the next 24 hours will be crucial."
When I look back on that day I feel sad. But more than anything, sad for my parents.
I cannot imagine how they felt being told their little girl might not make it through the night.
For any parent, it's something you never want to experience
for yours or anyone else's young child
Seeing the sheer pain embedded in my mom's face is something I find difficult to erase.
It's something that I will carry forever.
The rest of that night was a blur.
A painful emotional blur.
When I woke up, I realized that I was living what seemed at the time, a terrifying nightmare .
One that you couldn't escape or run from,
it was a nightmare in a constant loop and I was in the middle of it all
It was overwhelmingly real and intense
But as the days went on, slowly, I regained my strength.
Before I was released from the hospital, the nurse told my mom that I'd need injections for the rest of my life.
It's a burden that comes with every type 1 diabetic.
We live by the constant pattern of insulin injections,
carefully managed diets, and constant monitoring of daily blood glucose tests.
No matter how hard we maintain a healthy lifestyle or exercise, it will never go away.
I am reminded of this nearly 10 times a day when I'd look down at my pinpricked finger
and stare into a machine to tell me if I'd need to inject myself.
I've struggled my entire life to accept this lifelong condition.
I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders but now, after years of anger, hurt and shame,
I've learned to be proud of every bit of who I am.
I am a fighter and nearly twelve years later, I feel stronger than ever. I am here.
I am alive.
And although I have a condition that will never go away, it is okay. I am okay.
I am not ashamed or embarrassed to shout from the rooftops about my condition.
Because I won't let it take any part of me away again.
I am brave, resilient and unstoppable .
And if you think type 1 diabetes or any other disease is ever going to hold you back, my God, are you wrong.