Diagnosis stories are powerful teaching tools that help people learn to recognize the symptoms of Type 1 Diabetes. For the person diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes, a diagnosis is the day his or her life changes and goes forward. Semisweet is sharing Melia’s Diagnosis Story in her own words.

Melia, diagnosed at Age 9, February 15, 2003

Usually when I am asked how I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, I tell the short and sweet version, “My brother had the flu then I got the flu. He got better and I didn’t.” This is followed by the onslaught of how I got diabetes. “Did you have a bad diet? Were you overweight? Is that the good or bad kind? Does your family have a history of diabetes?”

No, no, there is no good kind, and still no. In fact, when I was diagnosed T1D was not really considered genetic yet. Today, research suggests otherwise. The best way to describe it is to say that there is something in my genes that was waiting to be triggered. I just happened to get the right bug at the right time, which made my immune system turn on itself and attack my pancreas. If I hadn’t gotten sick those genes may have never been triggered, or it could have just been prolonged. So, to make the short, sweet story not so sweet here is the long version:

Melia one week before diagnosis

On Valentine’s Day I lay my head on my desk as my classmates dug into their candy bags and Valentine’s cards. After school my parents packed my brother and me in the car and we left for my grandfather’s birthday celebration in Chicago. The drive took an extra 2 hours, because I had to use the restroom so often. We sat in a fancy restaurant for a late dinner. I made my first trip to the restroom before the drinks arrived. We ordered our food, I drank all my water as fast as I could and left for my second trip to the restroom. A few minutes later I went back for the third time. This time I felt nauseous. My parents wondered what was happening to me, but I insisted I was fine. We had only just begun eating when I was sick at the table. The next part I remember is my mother putting me in the bathtub at my grandparent’s house where she noticed I’d lost an unbelievable amount of weight. Immediately, I was taken to the E.R. One look at me and the doctors knew what was wrong; they didn’t hesitate to admit me. I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes on February 15, 2003. My A1c was 15 and my blood sugar was 1024. The doctors were shocked that I was coherent because, as I would find out later, I should have been comatose. I was in 4^th grade.

The next 5 days were spent in the Intensive Care Unit, working toward lowering my A1c. From there I was transferred to the hospital where I began learning how to check my blood sugar, take insulin, and count carbs. I gave myself my first injection. I started on NPH and learned the “clear to cloudy” rule of mixed insulin injections. I would start Humalog and Lantus when I went home. As I began learning the routine that would become my lifeline, everything from the previous few weeks also began making sense. I showed all the symptoms of Type 1 Diabetes: increased thirst and hunger, frequent urination, weight loss, lethargy. Even though my mom had taken me on several doctors’ visits my parents had continually been told it was merely a virus, a cold, the flu. My brother had gotten over his flu symptoms, but the antibiotics made no difference for me.

By the end of my week in the hospital, everyone could tell that I was feeling like myself again when I intentionally triggered the floor lock down with my hospital I.D. bracelet.

After that week I was released from the hospital and 3 days after that went home to Iowa. The first trip I made to the grocery store took all day. Tasked with finding low carb snacks, my parents and I read every last nutrition label in the store. Sugar free Jell-O, string cheese, gold fish, and celery. This would become the usual for me throughout all of school. I’ve eaten enough celery in my life to never want to look at a stalk again. Slowly, things returned to some kind of normalcy. I went back to school and I was getting healthy one day at a time. Every day is still a learning experience.

Of T1D, I will say this: There is an immense list of things I’ve been told I can’t do. I disagree with that list. I survived college. I know how to carry 6 months of insulin supplies on a plane. I’d like to get my scuba certification. My mother taught me that I was a kid first. So I have never let my diabetes stop me. I refuse to let it. I am not a diabetic. I have diabetes. It is my disease. I have diabetes, it does not have me.