The Golden Year

The first year was hard. It was a lifestyle change not only for me, but for my family. We paid more attention to nutrition labels, and a food scale was added to our kitchen counter. In our pantry there was a brown paper lunch bag full of stolen single serving peanut butter packets to add protein to my low blood sugar snacks to keep it from spiking later on. We looked for sugar free snacks that tasted the most like their delicious and sweeter originals. I kept diligent blood glucose records for my doctor to analyze. I later learned that the only “bad” blood sugar number is the one you don’t check, but back then there was a lot of guilt about an out of range number. What did I do wrong? Why can’t I get this right? To manage a disease that has so many variables is mentally and emotionally draining – but that’s an entirely different subject for a later post.

So I think things were going pretty well. I started to gain back some healthy weight. I slept through the night. I could focus better; the mental haze was gone. My vision cleared up and I no longer required my glasses. That was a relief for me. The first week I wore my glasses I had a coworker tell me that I looked ridiculous in them, and that kind of stuck with me being an emotional and hormonal teenage girl. As an adult I feel sorry for people who feel the need to put other people down and I would have spent more time wondering what was going on in her life instead of internalizing her negative comment towards me.

I had a ton of support from my family. Sometimes for fun we all checked our blood sugar when I had to, and it made me feel that we were all in this together. We coined the phrase “I’m having a NORMAL” for my non-diabetic family members, as opposed to a low or a high for the diabetic. They took turns injecting my needle into the back of my arm for practice. Some who were brave enough even injected themselves with an empty insulin pen, just so I could prove that it didn’t hurt. We all became experts in carbohydrate math. One unit for every ten grams of carbs plus a possible correction dose of one for every two points I wanted my blood sugar to come down, take away a little if I’m exercising, add a little if I’m sick. Like I’ve mentioned, it’s not an exact science but we were doing pretty good.

I was in my first year of a bachelor of science degree at the University of Calgary. I was making new friends. I was hiding in the bathroom to discreetly give myself a needle. I could be found huddled with a study group in the library. I was packing extra juice boxes in my backpack in case of an emergency low and a lunch with the carbs written on the lid (thanks Mom). I checked every morning to make sure I had enough supplies to last me the day at school. I remember the first day I forgot my insulin at home. I sat down in MacEwan Hall, opened up my lunch and reached into my bag for my insulin. It wasn’t there. I checked again, taking everything else out of my bag but no sign of it. What was I going to do? I had two more classes to attend that afternoon. I couldn’t not eat my lunch, could I? If I skipped a dose, would my blood sugar spike and send me into a coma? I remember the cold rush of panic washing over me. What should I do? I chose that day to eat my lunch and hope for the best until I got home. And guess what? I made it. My blood sugar was slightly elevated, but I felt fine. I vowed to never let that happen again. I need to always be prepared.

Looking back now, that day was the beginning of the ugly years (perhaps a fitting name for my next post). It was a mistake, yes, but I got away with it with no immediate consequences. I was flying high and still on top of the world. So how did I get here? To a place where I write a blog entitled “Kari’s Kidney.” I suppose “The Ugly Years” will have to be our next story.