Hi everyone! Welcome back! I wanted to break down my diagnosis story into a few parts so here is part two!

Telling My Parents

My sister and I get home from the doctor’s office and I go to my mom’s room with the pamphlets in hand and she asks “are you pregnant?” I say, “No mom, I have diabetes.” I remember my mom replying, “Oh, that’s it? That’s okay, we can fix that.” I’m still trying to process everything so I don’t answer her. I then tell her I have to go back to the doctor’s office in a few days and she said she’d go with me.

My dad comes home later that day and I tell him I was diagnosed with diabetes – in all honesty, I have no idea what happened or what was said so that’s all I am going to say about that for now.

Back to the Doctor’s Office We Go

My mom and I return to the doctor’s office a few days after and during this appointment my doctor gives me my new meal plan. What did it consist of? Meat, fish, veggies and water. My doctor said I was not allowed to eat or drink ANYTHING ELSE as they were trying to figure out if I needed oral medication or could control my numbers with food. The doctor said I had to follow that meal plan for two weeks.

My doctor then introduces me to a glucose meter, test strips and lancets. I was told that in order to have my sugars in control/in range, I was going to have to use those tools. They proceed to show me how to use the tools and I immediately broke down crying when I was told I had to prick my finger for a drop of blood. I remember yelling out with big, fat tears rolling down my face looking to my mom and with such fear, “Please don’t let them do this! Please mom, I don’t want to do this! Don’t make me do it please, I can’t!” I remember my mom looking back at me with sadness and hurt in her eyes and not being able to say a word. All she could do was hug me and let me cry and cry with me.

[Remembering this memory as I write it constricts my throat because those feelings are still raw and it still stings.]

The Following Two Weeks

Since I was living at home with my parents, it was easier to follow my new meal plan because my mom was watching me like a hawk.

During these two weeks, I remember I was eating lunch and my dad decides to make some popcorn. I LOVE POPCORN. I STILL LOVE POPCORN. Anyway, my dad makes popcorn and the smell is just torturing me and making me salivate. I remember saying, “that smells so good.” My mom walks into the kitchen and tells my dad, “why did you make that? You know Diana can’t eat that.” My dad throws a popcorn into his mouth and says, “I’m not the one that has diabetes, just because she can’t eat it, doesn’t mean I can’t” and walked away.

I remember just feeling sad. I can’t remember what thoughts went through my head but I do remember feeling hurt. To this day, I never told my dad how that made me feel. Honestly, that comment comes to mind every now and then but I no longer feel hurt by it. Now, it’s just something my dad said.

After the two weeks of torture ended, we returned to the doctor’s office and they prescribed me metformin. They reiterated how important it was to watch what I eat and to mainly stick with veggies and meat. They then signed me up for outpatient care at a diabetes center where I would attend diabetes management classes, attend a diabetes support group and meet 1:1 with a dietitian.

It is surreal writing all this out! I find it fascinating how certain comments/remarks stand out for me that I haven’t forgotten even though it has been over 10 years!!

Where do I even begin?! My diagnosis story is a bit complicated and for many, even doctors, it doesn’t make sense but maybe that’s the theme of it all? At the end of the day, having diabetes is complicated and sometimes doesn’t make any sense at all!

6/2010 – 20 years old

My second year in college had just ended at UCSC (University of California Santa Cruz) and my parents had drove up from Los Angeles County to help me pack up and move off campus since I was planning on working during the summer.

As we were packing up, my mom looked at me weirdly and kept asking me if I was okay and I just kept saying that I was. Eventually, she asked that I come home for a few days to get a check-up to ease her worried mind.

On the way home (it was about a 6 hour drive) all I was able to do was sleep and pee. Yup! Sleep and pee! I asked my dad almost every 1-2 hours to stop the car cause I had the urge to pee. During one of these times, as I was slipping back into sleep, I heard my mom tell my dad “esto no es normal” (this is not normal).

The Doctor’s Office

There I am sitting in the doctor’s office oblivious to the fact that my life was about to be turned upside down.

The nurse came in and checked my temperature and blood pressure while asking me why I was there and what symptoms I have been experiencing. I proceeded to share that I’ve been needing to pee more frequently, I am having lack of sleep, I feel tired all the time, I’ve lost weight without even trying and I am thirsty ALL THE TIME – little did I know that these are the classic symptoms for diabetes.

She proceeded to get this device that when she poked my finger, a bit of blood came out. She then got a small metal strip and inserted it into another device and squeezed my finger so that blood can get onto the strip. The device started blinking and a number appeared – 445. She looked surprised and I asked “is that bad?” She quickly turned away and said, “Let me get the doctor for you.” I shrugged and said “okay.” I remember thinking “I wonder what that was about, oh well.”

A lady doctor comes in and says “You have diabetes.” I’m staring at her with a blank look on my face (at least that is what I imagine I looked like) because I didn’t know what that was and it didn’t mean anything to me. She proceeds to tell me what it is and what it’s caused by and then she pauses and says, “You seem pretty calm hearing these news. When I was told I had gestational diabetes, I cried my eyes out” and chuckles. As soon as she finishes that sentence, I break down crying. She pats my back and says, “It’s okay” and gives me some tissues. She gives me some pamphlets and tells me to come back later that week.

I make my appointment and as I walk into the waiting room my sister asks, “are you pregnant?” I said, “No, I have diabetes.” She replies, “what’s that?” I couldn’t respond and just hand her the pamphlets.