A Life with Diabetes
"The first thing I had to change was my attitude"

(If you're just joining us, this is a story about a woman coming to terms with diabetes. Read the rest of her story.)

The College Years
Thursday, March 3, 2005

After finally getting a doctor that specialized in children with diabetes, things got a bit better. By better I mean the doctors tried really hard to help me control my diet, adjust my insulin, and stop my seizures. Throughout my teen years, the seizures continued, though only a few times a year. After a few appointments with erratic blood sugars (despite my mother-controlled diet) my doctors diagnosed me with brittle diabetes.

Brittle diabetes is a degree of type I diabetes where the blood-glucose levels fluctuate widely from high to low. Many doctors don't even believe this definition is accurate and that brittle diabetes merely amounts to a lazy diabetic who just doesn't stick to his/her diet. But with my new diagnosis in hand, I continued through high school and blamed any blood sugar problems on my "brittle" condition.

Of course, the bane of my mother's existence at the time was trying to convince a 14-year-old girl to eat MORE, not an easy task. I was sure this diabetes thing, and all those extra snacks I was forced to eat before bed, were only going to make me fat. I ate so many seizure-preventing, pre-bed peanut butter sandwiches in my teen years that I couldn't even stand the smell of peanut butter again until I was in my late twenties.

This obsession with my weight made my mother's ability to help me with my diabetic diet very taxing, to say the least. Her theory, much to my sister's dismay, was that I would eat as long as I wasn't eating alone. So she forced my sister to endure countless needless snacks in order to inspire me. Just one of many things my sister endured for the sake of my condition.

Socially, getting through high school was filled with the normal awkwardness. However, diabetes really didn't affect my relationships all that much. Most of my friends and the few dates I did have were aware of my condition, so it never seemed to be an awkward subject or cause for any strange silences in a conversation. I continued on the swim team, went to the prom, and attended Friday night football games. All the normal things a teenager does.

However, things actually got worse when I headed off to college. When I was accepted into the University of Georgia, my mom and I attended an orientation weekend. There, we visited the medical center and dining halls on campus. To my surprise, at both locations there were services to help students like me with chronic conditions. At the dining hall, the chef discussed meal plans with my mother and me. At the health center, I was introduced to the staff endocrinologist.

Next Page: After leaving orientation, I was sure college was going to be a much smoother ride for me and my diabetes. How wrong I was.

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Early Days

02/10/2005: The Diagnosis

02/19/2005: My First Seizure

Independence & Denial

03/03/2005: The College Years

03/09/2005: New York, New York

Unfamiliar Revelations

03/13/2005: Home Sour Home

03/29/2005: Taking Responsibility

04/02/2005: My Search for Control

11/01/2005: The Final Chapter