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The diary of a type one diabetic

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My name is Patricia van Rooi and diabetes described in my own words, is when for some reason your body attacks your pancreas because it suddenly sees it as a threat. This is usually after your body has experienced some sort of trauma and my trauma was simply experiencing a childhood disease; mumps.

The day I got diagnosed still replays in my head as clear as day. This was nearly 19 years ago yet I can still remember the look of disbelief in my mother’s eyes when the doctor told us.

I was seven years old when my dad carried me into the hospital reception. We walked past a vending machine when I asked him, “ Can I have a fanta orange?” and he said, “ Sure, after we have seen the doctor.”

At only seven I knew something was wrong, I lost so much weight, I was constantly thirsty, I barely ate and I am always tired, but it never occurred to me that during that time my body had basically turned on me.

I sat on my dad's lap, resting my head on his shoulder, while sitting across from a very small woman thinking about the Fanta orange I was about to enjoy when we are done here.

“Your daughter has type one diabetes.” said the doctor.

My mom’s pale face forced me to lift up my head and I immediately observed the seriousness in the room.

But what does it mean to be a type one diabetic?

At first I got the short and very inaccurate description, ‘You are not allowed to eat or drink anything sweet anymore.’

I was immediately placed in a bed and on a drip and spent what felt like forever getting familiar with the grey hospital walls.

Diabetes is on both sides of my family, both my grandmothers are pre-diabetics and one of my great grandmothers was a type one diabetic. I also have multiple aunts and uncles that have one of the three types of diabetes.

I remember during my vacation in the hospital, my grade one teacher and another teacher came to visit me. There was a plate of crackers still by my bedside that I couldn't eat and she said to me, “You have to eat so you can get better and come back to school, we miss you.”

The one teacher said, “we will arrange for a big cake when you get back.” She immediately regretted her words and I overheard my teacher tell her, “ Patricia can’t eat cake anymore.”

Is that really what it means to be a diabetic? No cake? Ever? 

When I finally went home, everything changed!

My sweet tooth was deprived of its main purpose - eating something sweet every chance I got and my new best friend became a needle and an insulin injection that I had to have with me everywhere I go.

The first few years of my diagnoses have become blurry. Vague memories of rushing to the hospital for a drip because of consistent high glucose levels. A Reminiscent surge of dread would regularly flood up every time I had to test my glucose levels and a sense of hopelessness overwhelmed me every time I had to take my medication.

It took years and multiple doctors appointments and interaction with the emergency room for me to realise that my diabetes is not the enemy and my body is just doing the best it can.

Yes, the thought of this is unfair has crossed my mind so many times and I’ve asked God time and time again ‘why me?’ 

Every three months a diabetic does a blood test called HbA1c, that gives the average glucose range for the past three months. The normal and acceptable range should be below 7 erfffqwaqbut for as long as I can remember, mine has always been double digits.

For a very long time this condition made me feel crippled and I felt trapped in a body that didn't want to cooperate until the day I broke down in front of God and just demanded answers.

The complications of untreated diabetes are very real and scary and as much as I tried to make the best of my situation, my morale just would not keep up.

Then on 21 November 2021, I made the decision to give my life to Christ and got baptised in the water. As I stood in line waiting for my turn, I just kept telling God that I don’t want this, I don’t want to be a diabetic anymore.

But the moment I emerged from the water I felt lighter. I felt a sense of peace that I have longed for.

I should have already died from my diabetes or lost my eye sight or have multiple serious medical conditions, but I was kept in His grace far longer than I should have been and it must be for a reason.

It all suddenly felt a little less heavy. I realised that living with type one diabetes sucks but it taught me that I am much tougher than I thought I was. And the fact that so many doctors have asked “how are you still alive” made me see how my God’s hands have carried me when He saw I couldn't yet stand up.

But I am ready! My diabetes doesn’t define who I am and who I could be!

I am a diabetic but I am also a daughter, a big sister, an aunt, a granddaughter and a wife.

I am a diabetic but I am also a performing artist who traveled overseas to sing on an international stage.

I am a diabetic but I am also a journalist and a TV presenter 

I am a diabetic but I am also the daughter of the most high and that takes precedence over everything else.