In 1960, I was a scrawny 13 year old and was diagnosed with insulin-dependent diabetes. My parents were devastated. My mother was taught to inject me with insulin once a day, test my urine and monitor me for low blood sugar. In that era, children were not believed to be capable of managing their own condition.
The years following my diagnosis involved frequent hypoglycemic episodes, a few times requiring hospitalization, and I am sure at least as many episodes of extremely high blood sugar levels although the symptoms were less obvious. I married right out of high school, which meant I finally had to start monitoring my DM. My mother felt relief that she no longer had the responsibility. Although I had difficult pregnancies, I felt a push to have children, like “normal” people. I had 3 full-term pregnancies and ended up with 2 healthy children.
Going through life’s struggles, raising two children, divorcing, changing physicians due to insurance changes meant that my diabetes was not well controlled. My older brother was also diagnosed with type 1 diabetes within a few years after I was. I recall he had a rather “macho” attitude toward his condition, often ignoring it. As improved means of controlling the condition were invented, I took advantage of them. I started college, and got a better sense of the importance of managing my diabetes. In fact, my Master’s thesis was concerning long term diabetics, presence or absence of complications and their locus of control as it related to their condition. By the time I had my Master’s degree in Social Work, I had been working in hospital settings and was able to learn as much as possible about diabetes, but also, I was able to talk with people who had not paid attention to their condition and I saw the results. I lost my brother to long term effects of type 1. After 53 years with diabetes, I am healthy, with no major long term effects, and retired, enjoying my grandchildren, two dogs and my time with my husband.
Long Beach, CA
