Age: 43 Year Diagnosed: 1996 Location: Carlsbad, Ca
“When I was first dating my now husband, we had made plans to hang out one evening. I took a late afternoon nap after a particularly long surf session. When I woke up, I didn’t feel right, so I tested. This was well before the days of my Dex waking me up with lows during naps.
I was 28.
My diabetes had only been around for a year or so by then, so my doctor’s info was still really fresh. He told me at diagnosis that 80-120 is normal and at 30 you would pass out and die. As if it was written in stone that exactly at 30 you pass out. This was the first time I had gone below 30, so I thought my death was imminent. I walked downstairs and looked for sugar, but had none in the house because I lived with five other girls who didn’t quite understand the gravity of not touching my sugars. I called 911 and sat at the top of the stairs waiting to die, not exactly the smartest place to wait. Unbeknownst to me, Tony was on his way over to my house. He saw the ambulance and firetruck get off the freeway ahead of him. He followed them after their first turn, their next turn, and finally into my condo’s parking lot. He told himself there was no way they were going to my place, but when the firemen jumped out of their truck and ran to my door, he knew something was wrong. He followed the firemen right into my house. By that time, I had found some hidden sugars and had recovered. I was trying to convince them that I was fine and didn’t actually need any assistance. I was also trying to convince a new guy that this is not my normal life. Lucky for me, he was very understanding and just wanted to make sure that I was ok.
Perfection does not exist. Don’t strive for it. Strive for balance between doing a good job at taking care of your diabetes while still doing a good job of living your life. Find your happy medium and let go of the guilt.”