We walk blind and we try to see

I’ve been thinking about this post for a long time, as it is very over-due. Looking past on my last semester, I’m very disappointed in myself. I didn’t take care of myself- I became sick to the point of vomiting and not being able to get out of bed and even found myself in ICU one weekend. Not controlling my diabetes impacted my relationships, my grades, and obviously my health.

The weekend I went to the hospital (thanks Ally and Sally for the ride) was hands down the worst weekend of my life. I made the decision to go because I truly felt like my body was shutting down- I had walked out in the middle of class to throw up, couldn’t think or see straight, and all I could think is “I really need to get to a hospital right this second”. That’s when I texted my dad during class, told him I didn’t feel good and that I was calling Ally to come get me.

The ride there, I felt slightly better and could think a little clearer. I knew what was happening, I was going into DKA. The doctors asked me what was wrong, and that’s what I told them. They asked why I thought that and I told them “I just know”. And I was right.

That weekend was supposed to be an exciting one- we were supposed to go to Thatcher’s semi-formal that night. But instead, it was the most lonely, eye opening weekend. Not a single one of my friends came the two nights and three days I was there. I sat in ICU listening to the hospital speaker say “Code Blue” and others and watched doctors scurry to rooms for patients. I was woken up every couple hours to be poked and prodded and tested over and over again. I’m still working on forgiving my friends for not coming.

I’ve been trying to take care of myself more, truly. But it seems like it’s an on again off again type of thing. One day I’ll wake up and find myself very committed and the next I act like it doesn’t exist. I had to leave work early the other day because my blood sugar was very, very high and I didn’t have the energy to stand. I went home, gave myself some insulin, and slept it off.

My biggest fear is that I’m going to suffer the consequences from all of this when I have a family. I’m scared to death to be pregnant one day. As if taking care of a child inside of you isn’t enough pressure, adding diabetes on top of it is terrifying. I also know I’m cutting years off my life, and I’m afraid I’m going to miss out on things I should still be around for. And I’ll have no one to blame but myself.

I wish I had been diagnosed at a younger age. I think I still can imagine high school and years before. But how long can I use that as an excuse? It’s been almost three years, I’m not “newly diagnosed” anymore. I don’t know why it doesn’t phase me some days to not take care of myself. I literally block it out of my mind.