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This is one of the contributions to:DIABETES ESSAY AND POEM COMPETITION 2010
I’d drunk enough water to fill an Olympic swimming pool, resulting in more time spent in the toilet than I had in all my 9 short years of life. Still, I didn’t really care it was great for my health wasn’t it? Anyway, I felt fine so I was fine- stuff works like that doesn’t it? That’s the way I usually think about things but, according to the doctor, not everything works like that.
The next thing I knew was that I was sitting outside the doctors waiting for the verdict to be delivered. I’d just handed over a urine sample and been asked about my family’s diabetic history, as well as the usual questions about how I was feeling, so I’d kind of guessed already. Strangely it still hit me like a 70mph double-decker bus with a couple of hundred forks welded to the front;- it hurts for a few seconds and then you’re fine………….(ish).
After a few blurry memories as the forks entered my body and I found myself plonked in an old hospital chair with my eyes glued to a hospital TV wondering if there was anything I could do to escape the inevitable, the inevitable being a long leech like tube itching to sample some of my hard earned blood. As it turned out that there wasn’t I resigned myself to fate and watched a plastic tube suck out what felt like half my blood supply and, to add insult to injury, let one of its smaller cousins (a finger pricker) have a go at me as well.
Actually, apart from force feeding myself a plate of hospital food, I was fine after that. I even got offered the chance to inject my dad but I turned it down, much to my future regret. Actually, when you think about it I’m extremely well off and I can probably count myself within the top 97% of the world’s luckiest people. I have access to clean water, live in a nice house with a garden, wear new, clean clothes, have a dependable source of food, both my parents, I go to school and get paid for doing almost nothing. Yes, nearly none of my friends have to inject 3 times a day or blood test constantly but I don’t see any of them having night time snacks bigger than their breakfast, or guzzling a constant supply of glucose. So although diabetes does have its advantages and disadvantages, it’s not that bad. Next time you’re having a hypo, think about that 97%of people that would be delighted to swap places with you, those starving children in Africa who know that they’ll probably die pretty soon if they don’t get their disease ridden hands on a clean water supply and it doesn’t seem that bad. They would probably kill to swap places with me or you.
I’d been on my first ski holiday the winter before I was diagnosed and found sliding down a mountainside on a couple of wooden planks strangely addicting. The Doctor had predicted a low sugar holiday but as it turned out I got exactly the opposite, regularly having sugars above 17 no matter how high the insulin was (I reckon it has something to do with the altitude). Ski holidays are great, but getting there and back is headache inducing stuff and I clearly remember sliding around on a dull blue coach seat simultaneously trying to avoid adding to my multiple stab wounds and keeping the contents of my stomach safely hidden in the dark recesses of my lower abdomen. Although some insulin did successfully penetrate my leg and some sandwich, fruit and water was forced down my throat (and made to sit there obediently) I don’t think I’ll ever forget what it’s like to dine on a fast moving coach on what feels like the world’s most food unfriendly road.
As well as skiing, I enjoy hockey, badminton, climbing, cross country running, a bit of football, a lot of BMX, hill walking, camping and my new favourite, snowboarding. The snowboarding obsession just started a few months ago at the Lecht ski resort in Scotland and strangely, with the low altitude my blood sugar levels were fine. I really enjoy all my sports and try and keep my blood sugars level but they seem to have it in for me, some times they shoot sky high and just when you give the fast acting dive low again, like a tame grizzly bear; - you never know when it’s going to rip your head off.
Yeah, my life was changed when I was diagnosed, yes I have to deal with it every day and yes, it affects a decent amount of things I do but I’m still alive and I’m having a great time ;- I could get run over tomorrow and what good would worrying do me then. So to everyone else with diabetes, next time you complain about testing, an injection or a hypo or you’re worrying about diabetes, wondering why it had to be you, try, just try to think about that 97% of people, those starving kids in Africa and all the times your family has helped you with diabetes. Yes diabetes can seem bad sometimes, but overall, when you think about it, it’s no big deal