When I was rushed into A&E in August with DKA, I had no idea what was wrong with me or how my life was about to change. I was scared – really scared. Being told that you’re critically ill is difficult to take in at any age but especially when you’re only 17!
Thankfully, I pulled through but since then I have been going through a whole assortment of thoughts and emotions running through my head each day. Some of them ironic, some meaningless and some I shouldn’t share with anyone. But, the thoughts that I would really like to share with others, are my thoughts which I believe could really benefit others. Others like me who are going through what I have been through and still going through each and every day. You can’t begin to describe what it feels like to be told you’ve got a life changing condition – not even your parents, brothers or sisters – no-one truly understands except someone else who has diabetes.
I’m still struggling with coming to terms with this life change – I can’t lie, I am having a hard time accepting this. I’m a naturally quiet character so, by sharing my experience with others, it will allow me the opportunity to convey my thoughts and, at the same time, hopefully help others and most importantly raise awareness among teenagers. So easily can the early warning signs be written off to ‘exam stress’ or ‘moodiness’ and, my favourite, ‘oh, he’s just a teenager – they need more sleep’. If I could just save one person from the horrors of DKA, my blog would be worthwhile.
It’s now been 3 months and 3 weeks since my diagnosis and every day is a challenge. I’m through the honeymoon stage of being grateful I’m alive but reality is finally settling in. I’m angry, frustrated and upset, I feel that I have lost control over myself, that everything has been taken away and the ‘why me?’. I’m trying to focus on acceptance but every day I seem to face a new obstacle. I can’t even enjoy a cup of Starbucks without having to think of how many units of insulin I need to take; trying to study and, without any warning, your hands begin to shake. It’s a constant reality check. I want to share my journey as it’s a strange comfort and support just knowing that I’m not alone and others may be feeling exactly the same way as me. That way, I know I’m normal and this is expected.