I Just Want to Be Normal
I will never forget the day I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.
I was 7 years old and it was my parents’ anniversary, May 27th, 1989. They had never been on vacation without my sister and me. They decided to go to the Caribbean for the first time and leave my sister and I home with my grandparents. I remember suddenly being rushed to the ER and being poked with needles by five different doctors. I felt so alone and scared. What was happening to me? Was I going to die? I was then told I had a chronic autoimmune disease called type 1 diabetes. It was a label I had never heard of before and that scared me to no end. After learning more about it from the doctors, my first thought was, I really love ice cream and I’m pretty scared of needles. There goes being normal.
Being “normal” was always hard for me. To start, it’s pretty hard to fit in with a first name like Dana-Maxx. All I ever wanted when I was younger was to be called Dana and be like every other kid. Type 1 diabetes made me feel even weirder. I viewed myself as damaged. I was pretty cool on the outside but no one saw the constant struggle and insecurities I dealt with internally every day. I was suddenly flawed. How could this be? And, why me?
As I got a bit older, I was faced with some pretty hard “It’s your diabetes, it’s not you” rejection. A boy in school thought it was funny to tease me and call me “Diabetic head” on a daily basis. (Turns out he actually really liked me and this was his way of showing it.) A few years later, I had my first boyfriend and my best friend at the time thought it would be a great idea to tell him I had type 1 diabetes, thinking it would lead him to break up with me. Thankfully, he didn’t think that was cool and stuck around. Nice friend though, huh? And finally, the culmination of all rejection—I was eating dinner at a country club with my parents and a woman spotted me in the stalls taking my insulin. She reported me to the manager and told him that there was a teen “shooting up and doing drugs in the bathroom.”
My parents flipped out and totally had my back, but this was just another example of why I felt completely broken, abnormal and down right scared of who I was.
I began writing down my thoughts in a diary that my mom gave me when I was in the hospital. It was my savior. I was pretty angry at life so writing was very therapeutic for me. For years, I turned to my diary and was able to release some of the pain I felt. The above stories are nicely documented in there.
I am now 34 years old and still living with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I am thankfully in great control now (my endocrinologist calls me his star patient, which makes me feel pretty amazing when I’m being really hard on myself). But to tell you that it’s all rainbows and bunnies would be a lie. T1D is a tough disease—at times, it can be stubborn and do what it wants with no warning and we often feel alone, insecure, not well and like an outsider. However, the great news is that we are not alone. Three million Americans have type 1 diabetes (JDRF). These people are just as awesome, unique and normal as you and me. They play sports, live out their dreams, have families and even eat ice cream from time to time! I have learned that having a positive mindset and repeating the following words goes a long way: “I come first. This disease is not who I am, it is a part of who I am.” And who you are is one amazingly, awesome Dia-bad-ass.