By Nicky Moxey
...Being
diabetic became one of the defining ways I think about myself on 31st
May 2004. I was 43, was (and am) happily married, with two kids.
Holding down my full-time job was becoming more and more difficult,
as I couldn't get through the day without a nap; sleep was becoming a
preoccupation, as I had problems getting to sleep at bedtime, then
woke a couple of times a night to go to the loo. Sometimes when I did
wake, it was out of a bad dream, and the bedclothes would be soaked
in sweat. It was hot, and I was very thirsty; I was going to the loo
a LOT, but I thought nothing of it. I was a large lady - but we went
on mountain walking holidays; and I could still buy clothes on the
high street. Anyway, I'd recently lost a bit of weight, after
struggling for ages on a low-fat diet. The breath smelling of pear
drops rang vague alarm bells from 6th form chemistry days, but
another symptom was loss of intellectual powers - I dropped a
measured 50 IQ points - and worries never hung around long. Anyway, I
was too tired...
Nowadays,
that reads so classically of the diagnosis, of diabetes and
hypothyroidism, that I wonder how I could possibly have been so
blind. But all I knew of diabetes was that either kids or elderly
people got it - and that wasn't me on either count. My doctors had
been telling me for years that I was fine, too - and you have to
trust your doctors, right? Actually, that was a pretty bad idea, in
hindsight. The signs of diabetes went back to the borderline glucose
tolerance test when I was 10; a low-carb diet (all the rage in the
70s) had sorted that out. The really big babies - 8lb 10oz then 10lb
3oz - and the 12+ fasting blood glucose reading during the last
pregnancy that everyone ignored should have tipped someone off.
My Mum had been hypothyroid for a little while by then, on
thyroxine pills, then pills for her angina. When she died, about 8
years before my diagnosis, my GP at the time tested my TSH. He said
it was normal. Actually it wasn't (hindsight again...), but it wasn't
much above normal; problem was, it kept on increasing steadily over
the next 8 years, whilst I got more and more tired and stupid, and
fatter and fatter.
So,
by 31/5/2004, I was clinically obese (just), had had a minor heart
attack a couple of years before following a car accident, and scored
an A1c of 10.3%. Actually, I was lucky - no-one had tested my blood
glucose for years. I was sitting in the surgery waiting to see the
nurse about a recurring UTI (hindsight...). Her procedures said that
she did a urine glucose dip; it couldn't go any blacker, so I got to
see the doctor instead.
He
cheered me up no end. His advice was to take up squash (I had a BMI
of 33, remember), and to lose weight - but on no account to go on an
Atkins-type diet, or go on that desperately unreliable Internet for
information. Oh, and by the way, I'd die at least 15 years earlier
than otherwise, and I'd be on insulin in 3 years. Take these
leaflets, and we'll see you again for the diabetes in 6 months. He
was more proactive on the thyroid front; I was given a very low
starting dose of thyroxine, and told to come back in 6 weeks for
another blood test for that. So, I now had two chronic diseases - one
of which the doctor had just told me would kill me early, and the
other had contributed to my mother's early death. Great.
The
next 6 weeks were a huge mental rollercoaster. Luckily, I'm a
stubborn person, and decided that I was NOT going to quit on this,
and leave my kids in the lurch. I read everything I could get my
hands on; joined a bunch of newsgroups and diabetic chat rooms; and
bought a meter and some strips.
And
that is quite long enough for a first post - but as a teaser, my last
A1c was 5.5%, my BMI is normal, and I have reversed the neuropathy
that the doctor failed to spot. I'm controlling my diabetes with diet
and exercise, having come off metformin after a few months, and apart
from 100 micrograms of levothyroxine daily, am on no other
medication. My gran lived to be 96, and my dad's heading the same
way; I intend to follow them.
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