Six Years

On April 4th, 2017, my life changed forever.

It was spring break of my sophomore year and I had been feeling off for a few days. The night before was particularly rough, getting sick to my stomach and not being able to eat anything for the whole day. I had trouble sleeping as well, mostly because my breathing was off. I felt out of breath and every time I inhaled or exhaled it was loud. I can’t explain the sound to you, but I can still hear it when I think back.

On the morning of the 4th, my mom came to check on me and found me unresponsive, lying face down, on the floor of my room. In shock, my mom told my dad before calling 911. The EMT came in and checked my vitals. He pricked my finger to check my blood sugar and it was 597. The EMT looked at my dad and asked, “Is she diabetic?”

“She is now”, my dad replied.

My brother was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes about ten years prior, and at that time his doctors assured my parents that the chances of me also having it were so low that it wasn’t even worth talking about.

Shortly after my brother’s diagnosis, I began having strange symptoms. Namely migraines, and they were awful. I still believe that some of those headaches were some of the worst pain I’ve ever felt, even at the age of eight or nine. We went to every doctor we could—my pediatrician, the eye doctor—and got no answers. I got glasses, then another migraine. The pain was so bad that I would almost always end up vomiting more than once before the ache subsided. My pediatrician ordered a CT scan, and it came back completely clear. This was good news, right? I didn’t have a tumor or any other kind of serious problem in my brain. I was ten at the time, but even then I was already frustrated at the idea that there were no answers to my problems. We would not get an answer for nearly seven years.

Back to April of 2017. I woke up in a hospital about thirty minutes away from home a few days later, and I could not move either of my arms. We would later learn that this was likely a complication, due to how high my blood sugar was, in which the nerves in my shoulders became inflamed. Thankfully there was no damage, but I still deal with some residual pain to this day. Eventually we would notice that my migraines had suddenly gone away once I was taking insulin and had my blood sugar under control. Nearly ten years of suffering, of my body yelling for help, ignored.

At the time, I was numb to the whole situation. I didn’t have the capacity to comprehend what had happened, and I knew even then that it would take a long time for it to sink in.

It is now April of 2023, and it has finally started sinking in.

I’m very thankful to have my therapist to work through all of this with. She has helped me process the anger, frustration, and grief of the whole situation. I’ve been thinking a lot about the grief part recently, which I have also written a few posts about. I grieve for the life I could have lived without diabetes. I grieve for the little girl who just wanted the pain to stop. I grieve for everyone who has been ignored or brushed off when seeking help for any kind of medical problems. We deserve to be heard and believed.

It’s hard to believe that I have been keeping myself alive in a very real way for six years. I’ve dealt with burnout, anxiety surrounding hypoglycemia, and frustration at high blood sugar readings. I’ve had to overcome my anxiety surrounding food and practice truly listening to my body for signs that something is wrong. I’ve had to learn to put my health higher up on my list of priorities, and I’ve found my passion for diabetes awareness and education, as well as mental health.

I am also incredibly grateful for the support system I have, and I understand how lucky I am to have it. My brother is a great resource and role model, as well as someone I can go to with any questions or concerns I have. My parents are always willing to listen and help however they can. My friends, even those who don’t know a lot about T1D, are amazingly supportive and always ready to help when I need them. I could never thank them all enough for everything they’ve done for me, whether they know it or not.

I don’t know if I will ever fully come to terms with what happened, or the signs that were missed. I will, however, funnel my anger and grief into spreading awareness and doing my part to educate people on the condition.

I want to thank you, reading this, as well. Thank you for reading my thoughts about diabetes and anxiety and everything in between. Thank you for allowing me to share my story with you, it truly means the world.

Remember to take care of yourself and speak up when you think something is wrong. You deserve to be heard.

—Abbie

Stop If You Need To

Resentment