A first-hand account of living with diabetes by Lawrence Vella,who says the more you know about the condition, thebetter... and the more you tell people about it, better still.
Diabetes is silent, very silent. People normally do not open their eyes to it until they have to go to a doctor for some ailment that seems to be totally unrelated.
A blood test, a follow-up test to make sure, and they find themselves marked for life.
But hundreds of thousands of people have managed to listen to the sounds of silence and have been diagnosed with the condition even without any ailment.
Twenty-nine years ago, I borrowed a booklet on diabetes, written by Dr Antoine Schranz, with a view to helping a heavily diabetic father-in-law, who was out of control because he chose not to care.
The father-in-law is long since dead through diabetes, but the son-in-law still maintains that booklet probably saved his life. It set me on the right track to caring for my health.
I reasoned that I perspired a lot, drank a lot of water and went to the toilet very frequently because I felt very hot.
Right? No, wrong.
The booklet defined those symptoms as near-certain signs of diabetes.
On the advice of my GP, I followed up with a simple, needle-prick blood test, then a glucose tolerance test. There was never any doubt in my mind about the results of those tests. As fate would have it, I found myself appearing before Dr Schranz himself, who asked me how I had “self-diagnosed” because there were no real symptoms.
“I read your booklet,” I said.
Looking up at the soffit of his office, the doctor sighed and said: “Oh, how I wish that booklet would do more such eye-opening!”
The treatment started with half a pill before lunch, then up to four whole pills a day – the maximum allowed
Going by the book, as a 39-year-old man, just a few months short of 40, I should have been diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic, but due to the proximity of my next birthday, I was accepted as a type 2 case. “Good,” I thought. “That means no insulin injections.”
From that day on, there has not been one single day when I did not have to keep myself constantly in check – on some days more than on others. The treatment started with half a pill before lunch, then progressed to three halves and up to four whole pills a day – the maximum allowed.
After a few years, when things did not seem to be getting any better, and still determined to do the best for myself, I went to my diabetologist and said I thought we should consider insulin. Admiring my resolution, the doctor agreed.
Today, at almost 68, I self-administer four insulin injections a day.
I have never tried to conceal my condition; I talk about it freely and advise as many people as I can not to wait for problems, but opt to go for that simple needle-prick test.
The best that can happen is that you get a timely eye-opener for your condition.
And if you are declared all clear, that’s better than the best.
But in no way does it mean that you don’t have to be careful about what you eat and drink, how often or how much.
The more you know about diabetes the better. And the more you tell people about it, better still.