August 2019

I squinted across the loch, willing my eyesight to flip back to normal. Instead, my vision swam, the pine trees and hills rippling as if, like the surface of the loch, they blew in the wind. 

“Let’s go to the doctor, I just feel there’s something serious about this” said mum. I could hear the concern in her voice but turning around, I couldn’t make out the expression on her blurred face. 

“No, don’t worry” I replied, “I’m sure I’ll be better by the morning”. I didn’t feel sure and didn’t sound convinced as I said it. 

Three days prior, on the 24th of August, I had raced around the island of Kerrera to win the Oban sea kayak race. I returned to the Isle of Mull clutching a trophy and a bottle of whisky, feeling content. I was looking forward to another week of paddling on Mull and some fine-tuning before the ICF world ocean racing champs in a couple of weeks’ time. 

The next morning I woke up feeling like I’d drunk the bottle of whiskey. I was tired, achy and felt heavy and although this wasn’t normal, I did put a lot of effort into that race.

I started thinking something wasn’t right when most of the next day was spent on the sofa, and the next day and the next day. This was exhaustion and fatigue on a whole new level, just walking up the stairs took effort. Nothing serious was suspected – maybe this was just the seasons racing finally catching up with me or perhaps I picked up a virus. I told myself this fatigue was just in the head and thought some fresh air would sort me out. I went for a 20km paddle and it felt like I was kayaking through honey, my limbs heavy and weak, my brain sluggish. Back home I collapsed, exhausted. It’s awful to think now how high my blood sugars must’ve been on this paddle. 

“Well you haven’t lost your appetite” my dad joked at dinner as I shovelled in another plate of lasagne and chugged pint after pint of water. Usually when you’re ill you lose your appetite, but type 1 diabetes makes you very hungry and thirsty because the lack of insulin means everything you put in is just passing through, unabsorbed. I didn’t register just how much I was eating and drinking, and no one else did either, but it seemed like a good sign that I hadn’t lost my appetite.

The next day, I awoke with blurred vision which deteriorated further the following day. We decided to head back to Somerset. By this point, I remember the google searches had started and mum read that diabetes could cause blurry vision – could it be that? “No way” I said, or something along those lines. The idea that I could have diabetes seemed absurd.

I’d met a couple of people with type 1 diabetes in my life. There was a girl, Gina, in my class at primary school, and the geography teacher, Mr Eales, had it too. I remember Mr Eales having to rush out of the classroom when he had a hypo and Gina injecting insulin, but I didn’t really understand it at the time. There was no way I was like them though, I didn’t even consider it.

On Monday 2nd September, 9 days after my symptoms had started, Mum and I headed to the opticians, who couldn’t see anything wrong with my eyes, but suggested my vision had been deteriorating for some time and I was only noticing it now that I was tired. “You need to buy some glasses” they said. Mum even specifically asked if diabetes could be causing my blurred vision. “NO” they replied, “diabetes would cause fluctuations in blurred vision”. WRONG. Shame on you Boots Opticians Yeovil.

The next stop was the doctor, and on hearing my symptoms, he quickly did a blood sugar test- he pricked my finger and squeezed the droplet of blood onto a tester, just like I’d seen Gina and Mr Eales do. Five, four, three, two, one ….. the machine counted down to reveal my fate. HIGH. My blood sugars were off the scale, over 35 mmol/l, meaning it couldn’t give me a number. Normal blood sugar levels are 4 to 8 mmol/l. Just like that, I had type 1 diabetes. 

I thought of Gina and Mr Eales and realised I was now one of them. My perceptions of people with type 1 diabetes were now turned upon myself, and this was really odd, since I felt no different. That’s because while type 1 diabetes changes your biology (there’s no getting away from that – the functioning of your pancreas is destroyed), this disease doesn’t have to change you as a person or what you can do – that’s a choice you make.

I was given a guide to living with T1 which says ‘After diagnosis, you may experiences feelings such as shock, denial, fear, grief, loss, hopelessness and despair’. In all honesty, I’ve never struggled with such feelings, and I can only guess why – I never even considered that T1D would stop me doing things, didn’t feel sorry for myself and saw just getting on with it as the only option. Plus I had a great group of friends and family in my life.

Looking back I was lucky to catch my diagnosis early. Many people end up in hospital in a diabetic coma or live for years with slow progressing diabetes without it being diagnosed. Or they live in a country where insulin isn’t taken for granted, and they basically starve to death. Action 4 Diabetes is a charity tackling this problem in South East Asia – you can read more and donate here.

Watch out for these common symptoms of type 1 diabetes: