I don't really remember a lot about that time, so most of what I tell you from this is from my mum. I was extremely thirst, it got so bad that ma would catch me with my head standing on a kitchen chair with my head under the kitchen tap, guzzling as much as I get. So obviously from the extreme drinking I was basically living on the loo too. That constant wanting to drink anything is the body trying to flush out the poison and the longer you go without either having insulin or being diagnosed the more poison builds up and the more your body wants to flush it out.
The longer I went the more tired I got tired. I honestly was falling asleep on my feet. So I'd wake up long enough to guzzle as much water my little body could hold, pee for Briton and then fall sleep again.
It wasn't to that extreme straight away of course, it built up and got worse over time until my parents rushed me to hospital.
Again I don't really remember all that much, just snippets here and there. Like when they initially took me in, I was laying on this bed and the nurse came over and slathered this thick white cream on my hand and a giant see through plaster, it was squidgy (it was a type of numbing cream the hospital hand for kids to help with putting cannulas in) and then I was moved into this room, so they could put the cannula in, the ceiling was decorated with birds.
I don't know how they teach people now a days but I was taught how to inject with a syringe and an orange. Later I had a go on ma (with saline not actual insulin). That was one of the moments I actually remember quite vividly, I was very very scared to inject my mum. I had syringes for a long time, I didn't have the fancy pens until I was around 6/7 and then when I did get them I didn't stay on for long, there was a lot of trouble with jamming and not delivering properly, so I ended up going back to syringes and staying with them until I was in my teens. That was my preference, insulin pens are a lot better now then they where. But everything has it's ups and downs.
There is on other thing I remember about my hospital stay. We where in a huge room with tones of beds (probably wasn't as big as I remember but it seemed huge at the time) and there was an older girl on the next bed from me all I remember is her name was Jessie and she was really kind to me, always talked to me and included me in things, I named my favourite Barbie after her, which I still have to this day (she was my favourite Barbie because she wasn't like the others, dark shoulder length hair and flat feet) having that person to even say 'how are you doing today?' really helped.
Sometimes when people are diagnosed they have to change their whole life styles and food habits. It was easier for me, not only because I was so young I didn't really know any different but I was never aloud to have lots of sweets, chocolate or stuff like that so it never was a drastic change for the family as a whole. I always think that was lucky to get it so young so I wasn't stuck in bad habits that would be so hard to break (not that I don't have any now).
Going through that whole process was hard on me because of what your body is going through and then the learning to not only do blood tests but injections and the like but I think it's harder on the family because they have to watch whats happening and feel helpless. I can't imagine what my poor mum went through hoping for me to have the lesser of two evils, she told me she sat there and hoped that it was Diabetes because at least I could survive.
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