In Moab for the Christmas vacation, 34 years ago today was one of the most pivotal days of my life. 

A Lot Goin’ On

It had been quite an eventful year already – 

• graduated from high school in May
• left my job at the local Frosty Freeze to spend time with my dad before heading off to college
• spent a week as a junior counselor at summer church camp 
• had my first surgery, to remove wisdom teeth – the week before school ID pictures were taken of course
• started courses at the U of U and moved homes for the first time
• attended the only college football game I’ve seen, had my first drink of alcohol and kissed my long-time crush all in one day
• met and started dating my future (and now ex) husband

One of the more minor events was the general physical I had to have done in order to be a camp counselor that summer. Nothing exciting, but the doc had said I was pre-diabetic and if I had common symptoms of Diabetes, I should get checked next time I was in town. While that first quarter raced by, I began to realize I was always hungry, tired and thirsty. Three of the most prevalent signs of the big D. 

December 22, 1988

That fateful morning found me walking into the Allen Memorial Hospital for my Glucose Tolerance Test (GTT). If you’ve never had a GTT, I’d advise avoiding the opportunity if at all possible. It started with a fasting blood draw to check my fasting blood sugar and my choice of “cola” or orange flavored drink. I was told it contained the sugar of about five snickers bars in that little bottle. They’d chilled it to make it more palatable, but I’d do well to chug it, as I had to get the whole thing down in just a few minutes. Oh, and if it came back up? I’d have to chug another one. 

After chugging the nasty syrup, I was led to a little room with a recliner, TV and VCR player and told I should watch the instructional video they put on while waiting for the next blood test in an hour. 

A Most Depressing Video

I hope no one has to go through the same few hours alone like I did that day. If they do, they have my sincerest sympathy. The video began by explaining that they were checking my blood sugar for the next few hours to see how my body handled an influx of sugar. Most likely though, since I was being tested, I was going to be diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes, at that time also known as Sugar Diabetes, and then began the prognosis of how my life would play out.

• I would have to take 3 – 5 shots every day along with poking my fingers each time for the rest of my life.
• My life would likely be shortened (I knew this also from a grandfather and uncle dying from complications).
• I wouldn’t be able to have any children (the one thing I’d wanted for a long time), if I was lucky enough to become pregnant, there would be potentially fatal complications.
• That shortened life would likely include heart disease, strokes, blindness, limb amputations and kidney failure.
• I could no longer have sugar and shouldn’t have too much fruit.

There was probably more, but that’s what stuck through the fog of sleep and thirst that was piled on top of the rest. Later that day, I also got a glimpse of the cost of Diabetes when Mom took me to a local shop to buy my first glucometer for $200.00 The tool they give out freely nowadays, I couldn’t afford because I’d spent so much feeding my hunger that quarter. 

My Valuable Gift

I often joke that that was my “Christmas Gift” for myself that year, but I really felt like I got a truckload of bad coal. A week later I would be back at school learning to deal with my new diagnosis on my own. The only people I’d known with Diabetes were cousins that I hadn’t seen in years. The rest of my “friends” had even less of a clue what I was in for and no idea of how to help. I’ve spent many years since that day depressed, wondering why I should bother taking care of this disease and wondering if there was anything I could have done to avoid it. 

Fortunately, I gradually got a handle on a daily routine and educated myself as much as possible about methods for treatment. The years went by, and I eventually learned that I did want to live and not be miserable going about it. I was even fortunate to have my beautiful boy with just a few complications, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I have developed some of the negative side-effects of living with Diabetes for so long, but not as many as I might have if I’d just given up all the times I wanted to. 

Most of all though, I’ve learned to appreciate each December 22nd as it rolls around. I appreciate that I’ve made it so far with all my limbs and digits intact, my heart has recovered from Congestive Heart Failure, and I have a much better understanding of how my body works and responds to stress. I am definitely not a poster child for the perfect diabetic, but I’m good enough for me. 

So, that’s the story of why I celebrate the 22nd of each December. It was one of the worst days of my life, but also the day I started to learn the value of my life. I think I’ll stick around for a while to see just how much better it can be.