• Katharina


Updated: Feb 19

... but about which only very few people know about: Diabetes.

The time of my diagnosis includes two days for me. January 21 and 22, 2008. On Monday the 21st, my mother more or less forced me to go to the family doctor. This was preceded by three weeks in which I lost almost 10 kg and drank about 6 liters per day. Besides, I made more pee than an elephant cow - or a herd of them. The deal with my mother to see the appointment: After the doctor's visit, we buy Fanta. So because drinking was my new passion and my need for sweets was great, it seemed to me a fitting reward. But it did not happen to drink the Fanta. But what happened was a doctor with big eyes, a measured BZ of something and an appointment with the diabetologist the next morning. I suddenly had diabetes. And I hated me for having Diabetes. I thought wow ...I had done so much effort to lost weight and THEN I get diabetes?

I did not wanted to be touched. And not comforted. Until the secret world of the different types of diabetes was revealed to me the next day.

I remember seeing a series called "up and away" or something similar a few years before my diagnosis. There, a young diabetic got ready for her stay abroad and I just thought: she DOES NOT LOOK, like a diabetic.

And funny or not, this thought should be a constant question to me in the future. (Right after: "Can you eat that?") Also for me diabetes was the epitome of old, fat people. Nobody can guess that there is a secret code behind the diagnosis of diabetes. Number 1 or 2. It did not affected me until my diagnosis. So it did not interest me. That's why I can understand the picture others have when they hear "diabetes". But now it annoys me because I'm affected now. And you know what? I DO NOT SEE AS ​​I'm angry. It's just inside me.

And then I explain what's up: I'm type 1 woman. I can not help it, my pancreas is more in the mood for a life without work. That's why I do it. In a full-time job, of course. And this is how it works: I measure, I inject, I eat. But sometimes it's like this: I'm shaking, I'm eating, I'm measuring. Or even so: My mouth dried up and everything feels stuck to me, I measure, I inject. Now and then I only measure. Or eat. Or inject delayed. Thats life. Life with Type 1 Diabetes.

How much I inject depends on how much I eat. Oh: and I can and eat everything. And I'm grateful for that. I am grateful for a manageable diabetes life through insulin and thanks to experiences and exchanges with other Type 1s and my doctor and my Dia consultant. But if Diabetes were not in place, I would not miss him. I would remember from time to time what he drew my attention to. For example that it is okay not to know about certain topics. But then you should not pretend to know. A "I do not know much about diabetes" I prefer to hear as "You do not look like a diabetic".

With a heart of cake and nerves of cotton candy, Katharina is blogging at Nerven aus Zuckerwatte about her life with Type 1 Diabetes, Depression and Multiple Sclerosis. She is an advocate for people with chronic conditions, fighting like she did, to accept the daily struggle and not to see them as weaknesses, but as her strengths.

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