Don't get me wrong, I am constantly fighting to rid-myself of the fat-girl mindset that has gripped me ever since my overweight high school days. Back then I weighted in around 200 lbs and for the past several years I have been - medically speaking - in range of my ideal weight and perhaps a bit low on the body mass index. But when the scale began to read three to five pounds lower every day and my weight sank down to 115 lbs (ideal weight calculators say I shouldn't weigh less than 135 lbs) I knew something had to be wrong. My husband and I even experimented to see if I could gain weight one Saturday night and I ate an extra large supreme pizza, half of a sheet cake and three pints of ice cream with ease... the next morning my weight was down four pounds. So I put a call into the doctor Monday morning fearing the worst but wanting an answer.
|Let's get the embarrassment over with and |
on my terms. Me Summer 2002.
After the lab work was done and xrays were completed, my husband and I anxiously waited for a prognosis. Eventually we heard back that my labs conclusively showed that I have diabetes. Unfortunately, the initial doctor we saw wasn't well versed in the intricacies of the pancreas and he made the assumption that because of my age (24 at the time) I must be a type 2 diabetic. He sent me home with a prescription for medication that would cause weight gain, a basic test kit (without showing me what to do with it) and a recommendation I take diabetes education classes the following month. Ignorantly feeling relieved I didn't have anything "serious," I accepted the general diagnosis and went home.