It was 18 years ago today that I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.

I was a senior in high school, had lots of friends, a steady girlfriend, was drum major of our band, and was always on the go. I had recently lost a bunch of weight which I attributed to my fast paced life of practices, dates, parties, and other stuff. I dropped 60 pounds with no effort at all. Since I had always been overweight I was pretty excited.

Night after night I would go to bed with a giant cup of water next to my bed that I would continue to drink all night as I woke up in between to go to the bathroom. I had to go to the bathroom all day long but that was only because I drank a lot. No biggie.

Well, now I can look back and see what my body was telling me.

One night at Drum rehearsal my band director asked me if I felt okay. I felt a little dizzy but had almost grown accustomed to it so I told him I felt fine.

“Because you look really pale,” he said in a very concerned
tone.

He made me call my mom and she took me directly to urgent care where a quick finger stick and a result of 504 solidified my diagnosis.

I look back all the ups and downs. The days of unexplainable highs, terrifying lows, oodles of pricks and pokes, the doctors visits, the fear, and all of the junk that we all go through with this disease and I am thankful that I am alive still. I am thankful that there are websites like dLife that provide so much information. I am thankful for all my friends I have met through blogging, Vlogging, Twittering, and any other media I can get into to communicate with the diabetes community.

We are all in this together. Fighting for a cure. Fighting for our lives. Fighting.

Here’s to another 18 years of fight I know I still have in me.