Diabetes, My Family and Me
by Andrea Bradley

For me diabetes has been a part of my vocabulary since I was a child. I watched my great-grandmother suffer complications of kidney failure, weight loss, loss of her independence and ultimately death. When I was diagnosed as a teenager my thoughts were not of fear but of positive thinking. I knew immediately what I didn't want to do. I didn't want to end up like my great-grandmother and not for the reasons you're probably thinking. I remember her life before being diagnosed with diabetes. She cooked, loved to make clothes (for dolls, people or whatever), always had an opinion and was very much an independent woman. Once she was diagnosed she immediately suffered from denial and depression which meant she kept living the lifestyle she lead before the diagnosis. She didn't take her medicine and when she did, it was how she wanted to and not how it was prescribed and she continued to eat whatever she wanted with no signs of exercise. All of which are very unhealthy ways of dealing with a lifelong illness.

I can remember sitting in the hospital room after them saying I had diabetes and thinking, Whew, is that all?  I figured they would give me my insulin and I could go home, besides I had a prom to attend in two days and I still needed to find some shoes to go with my dress. Frustration set in when I was told I was being hospitalized for the next few days until they could get my blood sugar under control. The worse part was I hadn't eaten anything since noon and by admittance time it was well into the evening hours. The nurse happily came in and pumped me full of insulin and wouldn't give me anything to eat until breakfast came around the next morning. Of course I was sick all night but they had to get that blood sugar under control. The next day the diabetes educator stopped by to show me how to give myself a shot of insulin and anticipating my resistance she started off by telling me I wouldn't be able to go home until I learned how to do it myself. After years of watching my great-grandmother inject herself with insulin I was pretty sure this would be a piece of cake. It was and the nurses and doctors were all astonished at my positive attitude and how fast I caught on. I was on a mission I had a prom to attend. Needless to say I never made it to prom but my boyfriend at the time was very courageous and missed his senior prom to stay at home with me.

Twelve years later my story is still pretty much the same as it was when I was first diagnosed, very positive and very, very upbeat. My grandmother was switched from the pill to insulin shots this summer after suffering from clogged arteries in both legs. She was very disappointed but she tells me all the time that she looks at me and figures if I can do it and not complain so can she. I'm proud to be a positive influence in her life with diabetes because she has been such a positive role model through out my life in so many ways. I created a medical book that she can carry to doctor's appointments with her. It has a list of all of her medicines, a sheet to log her blood sugars and other medicines that she takes on a daily basis, a directory of her care team (primary care, endocrinologist, cardiologist, kidney doctor, vascular doctor and pharmacy), a sheet to log notes from doctors visits and one to log notes from being hospitalized. She loves it and says it makes her diabetes management so much easier.

One day about a year ago my brother came to visit and was complaining of thirst but he hadn't used the restroom in a while (he suffers from diabetes too which I unhappily diagnosed). We ended up at the emergency room and when he checked in with the triage nurse he was promptly taken back to a room. No surprise since his blood sugar was so high that the meter only read HI. He was treated for DKA (diabetes ketoacidosis) and released, but I realized something that day that I never had before, he suffers from denial and depression with his diabetes. My outlook on diabetes has been positive and upbeat, not to say I haven't had my moments of frustration and confusion. When my brother was diagnosed he cried and I'm not for sure why (I know it wasn't because he was going to miss prom). I do know he was way too young to remember our great-grandmother suffering and passing away from the illness. Until that moment I hadn't really thought about why he reacted the way he did when he was diagnosed and why he treats his illness the way he does. Which lead me to think how many other people have the same feelings that he does?

As usual I jumped in head first because I knew there was something I needed to do. Over the last year I have unsuccessfully been trying to bring awareness about diabetes to Kansas City (where I live). Some of my efforts include having a Diabetes Awareness Ribbon Campaign, hosting a Diabetes Sisters Day of Action, volunteering with the local American Diabetes Association's local office, blogging and trying to convince anyone who will stand still long enough to listen that diabetes is not a death sentence.

I believe that everyone is put on this earth for a reason and for a long time I struggled with what my purpose and meaning really was. Sometimes thoughts would creep into my mind as to why I was blessed with this curse? I feel like I know what my purpose is and why I was given this blessing. I have broad shoulders to carry the pressure of dealing with this illness, a big mouth to tell everyone why having diabetes is ok and the faith in GOD that I can make a difference.