I would like to take this opportunity to introduce myself to you.  If you are reading this column, you are as interested about your diabetes care as I am.  Recently, I “celebrated” my 47 year anniversary since being diagnosed as a diabetic.  At that time I was 14 years old and had no idea because of my youth what changes in my life were about to begin.  Having virtually no idea what it meant to be a diabetic, I put my care in the hands of my physician and was hospitalized two days later.  Why wait two days?  This was decided because of many factors. 

The physician who diagnosed me was also treating my father with his first heart attack.  My father being only 47 years old (how coincidental is the number 47!).  Being this was the day before Thanksgiving, the doctor had a sensitivity to what was to take place and decided to allow me to have the holiday dinner with my friends and family.  However, it was truly unfortunate that my father was not at our table.  We were cautioned to not let him know my current condition since it could conflict with his care following his heart attack. 

I had planned to be out of town with an organization for the weekend and, therefore, my father automatically assumed I had joined them and would be back in town on Sunday.  On Monday morning I begged the doctor to let me visit my father since he was only one floor away from where I was being hospitalized.  Honestly, from my observation, my father miraculously handled this much better than my mother had.  While we were at the doctor’s office and the diagnosis was presented, my mother became very tearful.  I had no idea why she was crying since this was totally foreign to me, and at the same time did not know how life altering this journey of my life was about to become. 

I totally consumed all information that was presented to me.  As you can imagine, 47 years ago the means of control was primitive.  I was instructed via the use of an orange how to inject the insulin.  That poor piece of fruit…it had no chance of ever being diabetic!  Sometime later came the testing of urine.  No, at home blood sugar testing was not available.  As a matter of fact it was not until many years later that we had the knowledge and privilege of managing our own illness via the many tools now on the market. 

The means of testing was by urinating into a cup, followed by a test tube into which drips of urine mixed with water were placed.  Then came the magic pill.  I would drop in a pill that would fizzle and when finished shake and bake!  The colors would range from blue to yellow.  Blue was the bonus color meaning there was no glucose present, and then the dreaded yellow with shade of orange in between.  What would happen next you might be wondering.  At your next appointment you would discuss the few and far between results.  Who knew what to do with any of this since your care was totally in the hands of your physician.

My next article will give you the wonders of the Joslin Clinic, a teaching facility, both in and outpatient.  It was truly mind opening what the people involved at the Clinic shared with us, the people coping with the daily routines to try to find ways to control our disease.  Coping may be too harsh a word because they presented information that was technical, while at the same time eye opening.