What Was Your Journey to Learning How to Take Care of Yourself When You Were 1st DX?

Type 1 & LADA
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i was losing weight and was exhausted all the time. i couldn’t stop eating as my appetite was endless no matter how much i ate. i went to my PCP where he tested my blood on a meter and took blood from my vein in my arm. he said that b/c my BG was so high that he was going to take an educated guess that i was D and he DXed me. he put me right on Metaphormin and showed me how to prick my finger and how to use the BG meter. i was scared to death. he told me very little about D, but said that if i were to have any problems after i took the pill, that i should call him no matter the time of day or night. i called him that night at about 4am. my BG was around 450. i didn’t know what that meant, but i knew it wasn’t good; he said he would meet me in the ER.

i ended up in the hospital ER emaciated, peeing in my pants, with a BG of over 500. i couldn’t feel my R leg and i had fallen out of bed at about 2am to pee.

my blood was drawn and i had DKA and looked like an concentration camp victim, looking like death would be most accurate. i was given a shot of insulin and within two hours, my BGs came down to an almost acceptable level. (i don’t know what that level was, but the doctors seemed very pleased)

blood tests came back and i was dx with T1D. i was put in a hospital room and given insulin at regular intervals. i had no idea what i was in for; the shots didn’t hurt when the nurses gave them to me, but i was not thinking about my future or what i would have to learn to take care of myself when i went home.

i was given a little kit that came with a syringe and an orange. i was told to practice giving shots onto the orange as it felt most like how it would feel once i started giving myself my own shots. well, boy this wasn’t hard to do at all. it was even kind of cool. i just kept jabbing the orange, thinking that i was some kind of hot S…t .

i was not allowed to leave the hospital until i had learned how to inject myself without any help. OMG, this was a nightmare.

when i first got home, every time i was going to take a shot, i would count “1,2,3,” and then jab myself as fast as i could. it took me an entire year before i learned how to inject myself gently and to no longer feel either afraid of the BG meter or the shots.

and so the journey continues…

whats your story?

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CD-

your reply got cut off mid-story. can you please finish it; we’re all looking forward to hearing about you and your family :sunny: ?

thanks

DM-

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My story was pretty unremarkable. I wandered into the emergency room and told them I needed a diagnosis, that I knew I had diabetes. They diagnosed me T1, gave me a couple vials of R and Lente insulin and a bag of syringes, a prescription for same, and a container of glucosticks. They explained the routine and that was it. In and out in under a couple of hours. This was 1971.

I got around to seeing my doctor about six months later. He offered no further assistance, just renewed my prescriptions.

Evidently that’s all I really needed. I’m the most perfectly healthy chronically ill person you would ever meet.

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You gotta click the link, DM. Just click the blue words and you get the whole story! (not in this picture below, but in Harold’s reply above.)

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