I am the bionic woman. Seriously. I jest not. At
least that’s what my diabetic specialist is thinking these days. I had an
appointment with him yesterday and to say that he was stunned by some test
results would be putting it mildly. He also seemed a bit overwhelmed and kept
saying things like, “So this is the future.” “What is my role going to be with
all of this?” etc. and so forth.
I understand his confusion. I was feeling similar
items about 3-4 months ago. Back then I was feeling overwhelmed and wondering
what my role was going to be. Long story short, I was given an opportunity to
join a study for a brand new type of insulin pump. As a Type 1 diabetic, I’ve
had my share of experiences with insulin pumps. They have been part of my life
for years. They function as an artificial pancreas and have done a great job of
keeping me alive. Instead of giving 6+ shots a day (for some reason, my body
balked at allowing me to mix long lasting insulin with fast acting, but I
digress) I merely changed an IV site every 3 days and tada, I could program the
pump to punch in needed basal and bolus amounts of insulin.
Fast forward to this past year—now it is possible to
allow an insulin pump to figure out how much insulin you need. It’s like
wearing a tiny robot 24/7. It “talks” to me when my levels are getting too high
or too low, and has a tendency to be a little bit of a dictator. Just sayin’. But
the cool thing is, my A1C (diabetic lingo for blood sugar averages—it goes back
over a 3 month period) is now lower than it has ever been. Ever. This is
impressive. This means I’m under better, tighter control and I may be able to
avoid some of the complications that tend to go along with diabetes.
I’ve been dealing with this disease since I was 19.
They figure I actually started having problems with it in high school, but we
didn’t realize that symptoms like having chicken legs (a term of endearment
from my mother) always feeling hungry, and drinking water like a camel were
signs that something was amiss. It would take a couple of years in college for
my body to go into total rebellion mode. Things got so far out of whack, I
began passing out in class, and having seizures. I would later learn that those
were symptoms of out of control Type 1 diabetes, something a specialist told us
about when I was finally diagnosed.
Unfortunately, most Type 1’s are in rough shape by
the time they are identified. As in my case, big red flags are passed off as
other things. “Cheri is a toothpick with eyes because she’s always on the run.”
“Cheri is constantly running to the potty because she drinks so much water.” “Cheri
is exhausted because she is always on the go . . . literally.” So on and so
forth.
Type 1’s are usually about half starved by the time
the light bulbs click on. Since our bodies don’t digest food properly, in part
because the insulin levels aren’t strong enough to process what we’re eating,
we lose a ton of weight. And while this may fit the current trend in society to
resemble twigs and such, it’s actually not healthy . . . at all.
When it was finally explained that I would be
dealing with diabetes the rest of my life, I was ready to celebrate. Having
been told that I had items like a brain tumor and/or epilepsy while traversing
the diagnosis trail, finally knowing what I was really dealing with was pretty
much a relief. I know this type of reaction isn’t normal, but I never have been
classified as such, so it was typical for me. Instead of throwing myself or
having a meltdown, or screaming that my life was over, I tried instead to learn
everything I could about this new challenge.
Through the years, I have tackled odds that seemed
rather stacked against me, and currently feel like I have done okay with this
particular marathon. I haven’t had perfect control, but I have had good
control. This has permitted me to have 3 healthy children. I still have most of
my body parts, and though I may possess a bit of an attitude when it comes to
life, it is due in part to the fact that I have been fighting for my life for
years. I treasure things like family time, personal space, and the ability to
accomplish important goals. I realize there are no guarantees with this disease
and there are days when I feel like the proverbial last chapter. I did end up
with a little heart glitch a few years ago, but we fixed things and I am trying
to slow down and take better care of myself.
Since I am the bionic woman, I do sometimes tend to
take on more than I can handle. So I am striving to remedy that. (You can hear
my children cheering in the background.) I’ve had to pick and choose between
activities that I love and adore, but can no longer keep up with. Perhaps in
time and with the addition of this new amazing super pump, I will be able to
jump back into the fray of life as I once knew it. I know this, I will not go gently into that dark night. When this life is over I will more than likely
throw down a very worn out body with a grin on my face that says it all: “I
truly lived!” And now, back to showing this new pump who is the actual boss!
