I just wanted to thank you for the web site. I too am a diabetic and have had type 1 for 14 years now. I was diagnosed at the age of 8 and though I don't remember the horrific events leading up to the diagnosis I have been told the story and I can only imagine what my mother was going through.

 It was only a few days before Holloween when I came down with the "flu" and my mother being ever watchful sent me to bed with plenty of liquids and rest. But, on the second day after consuming almost 3 gallons of Gatoraide in a 24 hour period she decided to phone the doctor. The Doctor told her that it was the Vomiting that was causing me to be so thirsty and to give me ice chips to suck on for a while. When my mother kept the fluids from me I would cry and beg for something to drink. On the third day when my mother was sponge bathing me she noticed that you could count the ribs in my side and noticed how loose my PJs were on me. She called the Doctor again and described the signs to him and mentioned that I had a half sister with diabeties and could this be what it was. The Doctor stated that "children do not get diabeties" and told my mother that she was over reacting. This was in the 80's before a boom of diabetic information was avaliable and we lived in a very out dated town.

 By the evening of the third day I remember walking into my mothers room and telling her that I was Flying and then I collapsed on the floor into convulsions. We did not have a car at the time and We only lived a few blocks from the hospital so my mother scooped me up and ran the 5 and a half blocks to the ER. When we got to the ER the nurses took me away and told my mother she would have to wait but she fought tooth and nail to stay and they relented. They(the nurses) then bombarded my mother with questions and wanted to know what she had given me to kill me. They thought my mother was poisoning me. She kept telling them to check my blood sugar. Finally a Doctor who was visiting from a different hospital, stopped the nurses and listened to my mother. They did the blood test and my blood glucos was 1488. The doctor told my mother that it was possible that I could die before they could get it down, but that they would try. They put two IV's in me because they had to hydrate me befor giving me insulin. They could not get them in the hands so after trying 22 times they got one in the neck and another in the ankle. I still bear the scars from the needles to this day. It was at this time that I had slipped into a diabetic coma where I stayed for a little over a week. I remember waking up and not having my short term memory and not being able to focus my eyes on anything. I spent almost 2 more weeks in the hospital with the staff trying to "teach " us how to do blood test and the likes. Luckly for me my mother knew some from having a step-daughter that already had Diabetes. So when I got home my mother had my half sister come and stay with us to help us get over the "hump". My life went on and I returned to school. Except this time it was with a packed lunch and a visit to the nurses station three time a day to monitor my BG. Things ran smoothly for the most part until I was 12 and started my period. The hormones went out of balance and that just threw EVERYTHING off. We were able to iron out most of the bumps by the time I was 16 and started on the insulin pump.

 I have been on the Pump for 6 years now and even wore it all the way through my fist proms, dances, dates. Even the first night with my better half. It has been a wonderful addition to my diabetes therapy. When it comes time for me and my husband to start a family I hope to wear it the whole term. I am a healthy 22 year old female who graduated top 5% in her class in high school, spent summers at diabeties camp and attending social functions. I hold a full time demanding job while attending the University here in Florida. Thanks to the knowledge of my parents, the patience of my peers and the determination of my Husband I plan to lead a VERY full happy life while living the American dream. Thank you for letting me share my story.