I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at age 9. It was November of 2004, and I was sitting in my fourth grade class. We were listening to our teacher read us a chapter from a book, and I began to feel dizzy – like I was going to pass out. Next thing I remember was getting called down to lunch. I remember eating my lunch so fast, and suddenly I felt so much better. Later that night, I was in bed with my mom watching TV. I turned over to her and told her what happened to me that day. She took me to my pediatrician’s office within the next couple of days and had him test me for hypoglycemia (low blood sugar). My doctor gave me a nasty tasting orange drink and had me wait two hours so he could prick my finger. I did the test and it came back “elevated.” I had no idea what that meant, but my doctor looked worried and asked my mom to bring me back the following day. They did the same test, and gave me the same nasty drink, but the test came back elevated again. I overheard my doctor say to my mom, “I think she needs to see a specialist.” So, my mom took me to a specialist in New York City, where they did a similar test on me, but this time they were able to see a reading on the device. The doctor came in and told me I had “diabetes.” I immediately asked the question, “what does that mean? Does that mean I am going to die?” I remember hearing the word and associating it with dying (because of the way it’s pronounced). I got no further explanation of what the word meant, so we left that doctor’s office, and found a different specialist. This doctor did the same thing to me, and came in with a better, more empathetic explanation. This doctor told me what was happening to my body and how I needed to take something that other bodies were able to make naturally. I was taken out of school for the next week so I could get extensive education on what diabetes was. That day, December 1st, 2004, my life changed forever. 

 

I grew up a lot sooner than most kids. I didn’t know it at the time, but I had a full time job at age 9. Everything was calculated out for me. Meals, activities, sleepovers, vacations – every single day. I remember being told multiple times that certain foods were “good” and others were “bad.” I was also told that I should stay away from the “bad” foods. This is all I knew. It impacted how I grew up and how I viewed my body/food.

 

So what did this teach me? Diabetes taught me a lot about myself. It taught me anxiety, depression, anger, disordered eating patterns, and tons of insecurities – all the lows (no pun intended). But it also taught me perspective, patience, acceptance, and perseverance – all the highs (again, no pun intended). Diabetes came into my life like a wrecking ball, but ultimately shaped me into the person I am today. It taught me that nothing in life goes according to plan, and that served me a greater purpose. 

 

I learned a lot about myself. I became really good at knowing my body, with a lot of patience. And I am still learning. It took a long time for me to realize that with diabetes, or any other autoimmune disease, the learning never stops. Our bodies shift, our environment shifts, our food may shift as well. But that’s the beauty of finding true connection within ourselves.