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A Life with Diabetes 
A cotton candy moment before Melissa changed her attitude toward diabetes.
After a week of training that was mostly composed of type 2 diabetes classes (and not much help to me), I was released from the hospital. With the thirst gone, my blood sugar in check, I thought all was fixed and that this diabetes thing would be easy. Four weeks later, after returning from church on Sunday, I found out that the diabetes thing wasn't nearly as easy as I thought. My sister walked into my room to find me making "weird gurgling noises." I was having my first seizure. My parents didn't know how to react. They had never seen a seizure before, and more importantly, my new doctor didn't warn them that on rare occasions diabetics could have seizures if their blood sugar gets too low. Apparently, no one had told the EMTs who responded to our 911 call that diabetics could go into seizures either. Upon their arrival they spent their time not trying to raise my blood sugar in order to stop the seizure, but instead kept trying to discern which drug I was overdosing on. My parent's assurances weren't enough for them and they continually cornered my sister to urge her to tell the truth. Not convinced but not sure what to do, they took my still-seizing body to the nearest hospital. Not much relief was found at the emergency room, either. Taking their lead from the EMTs, the ER staff continued to try and find which drug I was overdosing on. Again my sister was questioned alone. When that failed, they took blood tests and even performed a spinal tap in search of drugs in my system. While the blood test didn't reveal any drugs, they did reveal that my blood sugar was 33. My endocrinologist was then called, but by this time, I had fallen into a coma. While still in a coma, a fellow diabetic named Ivy had heard through friends about the incident and had stopped by the hospital to check on me. Upon seeing my condition my mother explained to her that not only had the EMT and the ER staff not known what to do during my seizure, my endocrinologist was also at a loss. She insisted that my parents get me out of that hospital and away from that doctor as soon as possible. Twenty-four hours later I was out of my coma. As soon as I woke up, my parents worked on getting me out of there. Even out of my coma the doctors didn't know what to do with me. My blood sugars were kept at high levels and my confused doctor continued to check in on me. Against doctor's orders, my parents took me home that night. The next day I went to my first appointment with an endocrinologist that specialized in treating children with diabetes.
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My First Seizure
