This is an edited version of a post that appeared on my on blog in 2010.
I almost always find diagnosis stories to be interesting. For many people, diagnosis results from some sort of crisis, whether it be a life-threatening high, the onset of complications, or just a doctor’s visit resulting from persistent fatigue or other early symptoms. I was a little luckier.
About six months before I was diagnosed, I began experiencing the classic symptoms of thirst and frequent urination. Like many folks, though, I didn’t really think of the thirst as being unusual – it was the bathrooms trips that kinda bothered me. Did I secretly suspect the truth, down in my heart of hearts? Yes — or, rather, no: the ‘truth’ I was hiding from was my suspicion that I was developing prostate problems. The thought scared me, though – my dad had had prostate surgery – and I took no action.
A couple of months before diagnosis, I had an opportunity to join a weight loss program at my workplace. I made some pretty big changes: I quit drinking sugared soda (boy, had I been guzzling that!), generally ate more sensibly, did some exercising, and lost about 20 pounds. (Alas — they didn’t stay lost.) Guess what? I also quit living in the bathroom, and I now know that I pretty much stopped having symptoms. So, when I went in for my physical, I just expected a pat on the back and encouragement to keep going.
Perhaps because I had a type 2 father, the doctor must ordered an A1c as part of my blood work. (The prostate was fine.) A couple of weeks later, when I got home from work on a Friday, I had a letter (!) informing me that I had diabetes and that I needed to make an appointment for a follow-up. (I learned later that my A1c had been 9.5.)
At that time, I had no idea as to the changes that letter would bring into my life.