Okay guys, this is gonna be a long one, so buckle your seat belts and settle
back for the ride...
We got to A-ville a little early so we could walk around the mall. When we got there and started walking around, I realized my mouth was really dry, and I told my sister about how much water I'd been drinking and how I had been peeing all the time like "an old lady." She informed me that those were symptoms of high blood sugar and that I should start checking mine. On the way to her class, I looked up symptoms of hyperglycemia (high blood sugar) and I only had those two symptoms out of a list of probably seven, so I wasn't really worried. I have a friend who is a type 1 diabetic and I had used her tester for "fun" one time last summer. Which, now I look back and think, that was the stupidest thing I ever did for "fun" (I was completely naive to a life of needles). Anyways, I had tested high and she had told me get a tester and try to start checking it often. I did, and asked my doctor about it, and she said as long as my BSR wasn't over 200 fasting, that it was fine. It never was, so I moved on with life. I said all that to say this, the thought of checking my blood sugar didn't freak me out, so I really wasn't worried this time either.
We went to the class where they talked about carb counting, symptoms of a high, and how to check your blood sugar. (Ha! If Id only known..) By the time the 3 hour class was over, I had drank a 20 oz disani water, a liter of smart water and had peed three times. We left the class and went to Cheddars, where Casey was determined to have one last "good" meal before she had to start carb counting. I ate like I normally would, the grilled chicken sandwich with fries and honey mustard. We had also ordered an appetizer of potato skins. (carbs, carbs, and more carbs. Glory be.)
On the way home (exactly one hour after I had started eating) I checked my sugar with Casey's checker she got from class. 439. I looked at her, my eyes huge. She said, "Theres no way". I died laughing and stated I didn't feel any different. So here we are, on our way down the mountain, completely befuddled at how my blood sugar could be so high. Then a light bulb went off and I said, "Ohhh I didn't wash my hands!" Casey basically called me an idiot and we both start laughing, thinking I had food from lunch on my hands. Then I stopped again, "No I just washed my hands in A.C. Moore.. there wouldn't be food on them". It was quiet for a sec then Casey said she would pull over at McDonald's so I could wash my hands and try again. 20 minutes later my blood sugar was 374. Casey calmly tells me to just take her checker and keep track of it the next few days, and if it stayed high we would call my doctor. I told my Mom about it that night and she didn't seem too concerned, she just said we would watch it for a few days.
The next morning it was 206 fasting. I ate some oatmeal for breakfast, with some sugar in it, telling my Mom that I had to eat like normal to see if my body would process the sugar. I headed off to babysit, and was telling the Mom, a client but also a friend, what had been going on with my sugar. She kind of got wide-eyed and started to tell me that was not good and it was not normal. I told her that if it stayed abnormal we were going to call my doctor. By this time its been an hour since I ate, so before she leaves, I check it again. "What was it?" she asks. I sheepishly reply, "304." "Kelby that is not good!! Don't you feel bad? Is your head hurting, your vision blurred??"
Well, it wasn't until you said something, I think, starting to freak out a little myself. She makes sure I'm not going to pass out, then leaves for work. I text my Mom and tell her maybe she should call our office and ask a nurses opinion. She says okay, and I'm waiting on a text back when my client pulls back in the driveway. I meet her at the door and ask, "Is everything okay?" "No, you need to go to the doctor, call your Mom, I'll take you." I just kinda stared at her blankly and stuttered for a second. She said she had called her Mom, and she said that her Dad was diabetic and couldn't even function when his blood sugar was 200. "I'm almost sure they'll want to admit you, you need to go to the doctor." I calmed her down (haha, no joke) and told her my Mom was calling my office and I would just go home and wait on a call back. She offers to drive me home, and I decline, stating I feel perfectly fine. As I'm driving home my Mom calls and says, "They want you in for blood work at 11." Its 10:45 now... My doctor is never that fast.
On our way to the doctors office, I can tell my Mom is scared. "Did they seem worried?" I ask about my nurse and doctor. "The nurse called back within minutes... She never calls back that fast." she replies. The next 10 minutes I keep asking "what if" questions, and my Mom keeps calmly answering and telling me I might not even be sick, that I need to calm down, but I can see the worry written all over her face. We get there, I pee in a cup and they take me back for blood work.
Until this point I have never had blood drawn, so I'm a little worried. I'm dehydrated, so the tech misses my first arm. Ow. That hurt. She gets it in my other arm, and I get some hot pink tape to go around my gauze. The nurse takes us in a room and starts preparing us for what the doctor might say.."If you have diabetes, Dr D recommends Levine's Children's Hospital. They have a wonderful pediatric endocrinologist team there that would help get you blood sugar under control and educate you on how to manage and take care of your diabetes." As soon as she says hospital, my eyes get huge and I look from my Mom to the nurse and back again. My Mom smiles, but I cant tell shes trying not to cry.
The nurse leaves and comes back to take my heart rate. Its 120 and I tell her its because I'm nervous. She rubs my leg and assures me everything is just fine. She tries my heart rate again and its better this time. She leaves and we sit there.. and wait, and wait, and wait. I finally cry, my Mom hugs me and she cries some too. Then we pray together..what a sweet relief Gods peace is.
My doctor was at a funeral that day.. and she comes back early just to see me. She tells us I have type 1 diabetes. My Mom starts crying... a lot. Which makes me tear up because I hate seeing her upset. My doctor is great and explains all the new technology that is coming out and all the research that is being done to find a cure. She tells me to go home and pack then go straight to the hospital.
We get home to pack and my Daddy is standing in the living room. "I'm scared" I whisper, as my voice breaks and he hugs me. "Its okay honey, don't be scared." He rubs my head and when I pull away I see tears in his eyes too.
We have to drive separate cars to the hospital because my Dad has to go to class later that night. He picks up my big sister Casey, then the four of us start the 1 1/2 hour drive to Levine's. We get there and get signed in, and someone takes us up to my room. There isn't a bed in there yet and the nurses keep apologizing and running around trying to find a bed. Everyone thinks Casey is the patient because shes pregnant and we all keep laughing and telling them its me, not her.
As we are sitting in my room, waiting for a bed, I look over and see my Dad rubbing his eyes.. "Daddy are you tired or are you crying?" "No honey, I'm crying". My heart breaks into a billion pieces and I go hug him and tell him its going to be okay, I'm fine. Casey makes a remark about how rude it is to make a pregnant women cry and order is restored. My Mom is getting one of her bad migraines. I can tell shes feeling terrible. I'm praying God would take it away so that she wouldn't have to handle more than what we were already dealing with. I meet my nurses, they are great. My Dad leaves for school, apologizing he cant stay. I assure him I am perfectly fine, that he doesn't need to feel bad.
Honestly, I really do feel fine.. if anything, I'm hyper on nerves. I get to wear my own clothes and don't have to have an IV, therefore, I am perfectly okay with this hospital thing. People come and ask questions.. nurses, pharmacists, ect. The lab tech comes and gets a vein the first time, then drains half my life source. (Okay I'm exaggerating a little). When she leaves, I claim, "You can have my blood anytime" that makes her laugh, which was the point.
At this point my poor Mama is curled up on the couch in my room with a pillow and heating pad over her head. We keep telling her she needs to come somewhere where she can rest before it gets worse and she keeps saying, "I'm not leaving her, there's no way I'm leaving her."
I have pizza for dinner and get my first dose of insulin. The nurse gives it to me in the back of my arm. It stings pretty good for some reason. My sister finally convinces my Mom to go to a hotel room and drives her about 15 minutes away to one shes reserved. I get flowers and balloons from the gift shop from wonderful friends. While Casey's still gone my doctor comes in and I meet my first endocrinologist. He's great, he explains everything really well, asks about my interests and hobbies, and gives me the three goals he has for all his patients.
My night starts when Anna and Trevor leave and it's time to try and sleep. It's true what they say...it's impossible to get a good night's sleep in a hospital. They have to come in and check my sugar often. I end up getting a couple hours of sleep before waking up around 7:30. My Mom's back now, no headache, thank God. I take a shower and feel fresh and ready tackle anything my Diabetes educator throws my way.
The doctor comes back in and re-explains most everything to my Mom and sister. Then Kari, the diabetes educator, comes in; she's great too. I get two solid hours of info on what to do, when to do it, how to count carbs, take insulin, and everything else a diabetic needs to know. She leaves right before lunch and for the first time, I'm completely overwhelmed. I'm in a bad mood, all I want to do is sleep and cry at the same time somehow. My Mom and my Sister leave for lunch and I turn off the lights and bury my face in my pillow. I'm so overwhelmed God....so overwhelmed. I keep saying over and over. I finally fall asleep and when I wake up, I feel a little better. The educator comes back and asks me review questions to make sure I know everything. She says I'm wonderful and she knows I can handle this. I can go home whenever I'm comfortable.
My friend who has been a type one diabetic for 30 years comes in with her two sweet kids and little handmade gifts and a stuffed horse. I love that horse to this day. She's so encouraging and helpful; it's so great to talk to someone who knows what I'm talking about.
She leaves and after dinner we get my papers and get all my stuff packed up. It's A LOT of stuff. Books, needle, lancets, test strips, papers. I'm a little scared about going home.. about having to do this everyday for the rest of my life. But I know I can do this...with God's help.
So there is my story (err...book). The days after that were rough, but manageable. I hope this story was in some way relateable for you guys. I want to say a huge thank you to all my nurses and the staff at Levine's children's hospital. They were wonderful and it's only because of them and God that it wasn't a traumatic experience. I'm so thankful as well, for my wonderful family and friends, who are supporting me all the way.
What's your diagnosis story? Want to share? Email your stories to me at: kelby.godsgirl@gmail.com and you might end up as a featured post.
Thanks for reading, StAy TrUe,
Kelby
back for the ride...
It was Tuesday, February 10th, 2015 and I was headed to A-ville with my sister Casey to (ironically) a gestational diabetes class. One of her glucose readings had been one point too high, so her doctor signed her up for the class because she wanted her to know the adjustments she should make in her diet.
We got to A-ville a little early so we could walk around the mall. When we got there and started walking around, I realized my mouth was really dry, and I told my sister about how much water I'd been drinking and how I had been peeing all the time like "an old lady." She informed me that those were symptoms of high blood sugar and that I should start checking mine. On the way to her class, I looked up symptoms of hyperglycemia (high blood sugar) and I only had those two symptoms out of a list of probably seven, so I wasn't really worried. I have a friend who is a type 1 diabetic and I had used her tester for "fun" one time last summer. Which, now I look back and think, that was the stupidest thing I ever did for "fun" (I was completely naive to a life of needles). Anyways, I had tested high and she had told me get a tester and try to start checking it often. I did, and asked my doctor about it, and she said as long as my BSR wasn't over 200 fasting, that it was fine. It never was, so I moved on with life. I said all that to say this, the thought of checking my blood sugar didn't freak me out, so I really wasn't worried this time either.
We went to the class where they talked about carb counting, symptoms of a high, and how to check your blood sugar. (Ha! If Id only known..) By the time the 3 hour class was over, I had drank a 20 oz disani water, a liter of smart water and had peed three times. We left the class and went to Cheddars, where Casey was determined to have one last "good" meal before she had to start carb counting. I ate like I normally would, the grilled chicken sandwich with fries and honey mustard. We had also ordered an appetizer of potato skins. (carbs, carbs, and more carbs. Glory be.)
On the way home (exactly one hour after I had started eating) I checked my sugar with Casey's checker she got from class. 439. I looked at her, my eyes huge. She said, "Theres no way". I died laughing and stated I didn't feel any different. So here we are, on our way down the mountain, completely befuddled at how my blood sugar could be so high. Then a light bulb went off and I said, "Ohhh I didn't wash my hands!" Casey basically called me an idiot and we both start laughing, thinking I had food from lunch on my hands. Then I stopped again, "No I just washed my hands in A.C. Moore.. there wouldn't be food on them". It was quiet for a sec then Casey said she would pull over at McDonald's so I could wash my hands and try again. 20 minutes later my blood sugar was 374. Casey calmly tells me to just take her checker and keep track of it the next few days, and if it stayed high we would call my doctor. I told my Mom about it that night and she didn't seem too concerned, she just said we would watch it for a few days.
The next morning it was 206 fasting. I ate some oatmeal for breakfast, with some sugar in it, telling my Mom that I had to eat like normal to see if my body would process the sugar. I headed off to babysit, and was telling the Mom, a client but also a friend, what had been going on with my sugar. She kind of got wide-eyed and started to tell me that was not good and it was not normal. I told her that if it stayed abnormal we were going to call my doctor. By this time its been an hour since I ate, so before she leaves, I check it again. "What was it?" she asks. I sheepishly reply, "304." "Kelby that is not good!! Don't you feel bad? Is your head hurting, your vision blurred??"
Well, it wasn't until you said something, I think, starting to freak out a little myself. She makes sure I'm not going to pass out, then leaves for work. I text my Mom and tell her maybe she should call our office and ask a nurses opinion. She says okay, and I'm waiting on a text back when my client pulls back in the driveway. I meet her at the door and ask, "Is everything okay?" "No, you need to go to the doctor, call your Mom, I'll take you." I just kinda stared at her blankly and stuttered for a second. She said she had called her Mom, and she said that her Dad was diabetic and couldn't even function when his blood sugar was 200. "I'm almost sure they'll want to admit you, you need to go to the doctor." I calmed her down (haha, no joke) and told her my Mom was calling my office and I would just go home and wait on a call back. She offers to drive me home, and I decline, stating I feel perfectly fine. As I'm driving home my Mom calls and says, "They want you in for blood work at 11." Its 10:45 now... My doctor is never that fast.
On our way to the doctors office, I can tell my Mom is scared. "Did they seem worried?" I ask about my nurse and doctor. "The nurse called back within minutes... She never calls back that fast." she replies. The next 10 minutes I keep asking "what if" questions, and my Mom keeps calmly answering and telling me I might not even be sick, that I need to calm down, but I can see the worry written all over her face. We get there, I pee in a cup and they take me back for blood work.
Until this point I have never had blood drawn, so I'm a little worried. I'm dehydrated, so the tech misses my first arm. Ow. That hurt. She gets it in my other arm, and I get some hot pink tape to go around my gauze. The nurse takes us in a room and starts preparing us for what the doctor might say.."If you have diabetes, Dr D recommends Levine's Children's Hospital. They have a wonderful pediatric endocrinologist team there that would help get you blood sugar under control and educate you on how to manage and take care of your diabetes." As soon as she says hospital, my eyes get huge and I look from my Mom to the nurse and back again. My Mom smiles, but I cant tell shes trying not to cry.
The nurse leaves and comes back to take my heart rate. Its 120 and I tell her its because I'm nervous. She rubs my leg and assures me everything is just fine. She tries my heart rate again and its better this time. She leaves and we sit there.. and wait, and wait, and wait. I finally cry, my Mom hugs me and she cries some too. Then we pray together..what a sweet relief Gods peace is.
My doctor was at a funeral that day.. and she comes back early just to see me. She tells us I have type 1 diabetes. My Mom starts crying... a lot. Which makes me tear up because I hate seeing her upset. My doctor is great and explains all the new technology that is coming out and all the research that is being done to find a cure. She tells me to go home and pack then go straight to the hospital.
We get home to pack and my Daddy is standing in the living room. "I'm scared" I whisper, as my voice breaks and he hugs me. "Its okay honey, don't be scared." He rubs my head and when I pull away I see tears in his eyes too.
We have to drive separate cars to the hospital because my Dad has to go to class later that night. He picks up my big sister Casey, then the four of us start the 1 1/2 hour drive to Levine's. We get there and get signed in, and someone takes us up to my room. There isn't a bed in there yet and the nurses keep apologizing and running around trying to find a bed. Everyone thinks Casey is the patient because shes pregnant and we all keep laughing and telling them its me, not her.
As we are sitting in my room, waiting for a bed, I look over and see my Dad rubbing his eyes.. "Daddy are you tired or are you crying?" "No honey, I'm crying". My heart breaks into a billion pieces and I go hug him and tell him its going to be okay, I'm fine. Casey makes a remark about how rude it is to make a pregnant women cry and order is restored. My Mom is getting one of her bad migraines. I can tell shes feeling terrible. I'm praying God would take it away so that she wouldn't have to handle more than what we were already dealing with. I meet my nurses, they are great. My Dad leaves for school, apologizing he cant stay. I assure him I am perfectly fine, that he doesn't need to feel bad.
Honestly, I really do feel fine.. if anything, I'm hyper on nerves. I get to wear my own clothes and don't have to have an IV, therefore, I am perfectly okay with this hospital thing. People come and ask questions.. nurses, pharmacists, ect. The lab tech comes and gets a vein the first time, then drains half my life source. (Okay I'm exaggerating a little). When she leaves, I claim, "You can have my blood anytime" that makes her laugh, which was the point.
At this point my poor Mama is curled up on the couch in my room with a pillow and heating pad over her head. We keep telling her she needs to come somewhere where she can rest before it gets worse and she keeps saying, "I'm not leaving her, there's no way I'm leaving her."
I have pizza for dinner and get my first dose of insulin. The nurse gives it to me in the back of my arm. It stings pretty good for some reason. My sister finally convinces my Mom to go to a hotel room and drives her about 15 minutes away to one shes reserved. I get flowers and balloons from the gift shop from wonderful friends. While Casey's still gone my doctor comes in and I meet my first endocrinologist. He's great, he explains everything really well, asks about my interests and hobbies, and gives me the three goals he has for all his patients.
- 1) You're never in the hospital again after leaving here.
- 2) You can live a normal teenage life.
- 3) You will live to be a happy, healthy 90 year old woman playing with your great-grand kids.
The doctor comes back in and re-explains most everything to my Mom and sister. Then Kari, the diabetes educator, comes in; she's great too. I get two solid hours of info on what to do, when to do it, how to count carbs, take insulin, and everything else a diabetic needs to know. She leaves right before lunch and for the first time, I'm completely overwhelmed. I'm in a bad mood, all I want to do is sleep and cry at the same time somehow. My Mom and my Sister leave for lunch and I turn off the lights and bury my face in my pillow. I'm so overwhelmed God....so overwhelmed. I keep saying over and over. I finally fall asleep and when I wake up, I feel a little better. The educator comes back and asks me review questions to make sure I know everything. She says I'm wonderful and she knows I can handle this. I can go home whenever I'm comfortable.
My friend who has been a type one diabetic for 30 years comes in with her two sweet kids and little handmade gifts and a stuffed horse. I love that horse to this day. She's so encouraging and helpful; it's so great to talk to someone who knows what I'm talking about.
She leaves and after dinner we get my papers and get all my stuff packed up. It's A LOT of stuff. Books, needle, lancets, test strips, papers. I'm a little scared about going home.. about having to do this everyday for the rest of my life. But I know I can do this...with God's help.
So there is my story (err...book). The days after that were rough, but manageable. I hope this story was in some way relateable for you guys. I want to say a huge thank you to all my nurses and the staff at Levine's children's hospital. They were wonderful and it's only because of them and God that it wasn't a traumatic experience. I'm so thankful as well, for my wonderful family and friends, who are supporting me all the way.
What's your diagnosis story? Want to share? Email your stories to me at: kelby.godsgirl@gmail.com and you might end up as a featured post.
Thanks for reading, StAy TrUe,
Kelby
You did a great job telling your story sweetie. And you were a trooper through the whole thing.
ReplyDeleteI love your whole blog! It's very pretty and well put together! And your words have life and that makes your stories fun! :)
ReplyDelete