My name is Ainsley Faith. I’ve been diabetic since I was 18 months old. I’m almost 5 now, so that means I’ve had this disease a lot longer in my life than I haven’t had it. I don’t remember life before at all. Even though my mommy and daddy know it’s rough dealing with a kid with diabetes, they figure it’s probably a lot worse dealing with a kid who already knows what it’s like to eat and drink without a care in the world.
At my diagnosis, the doctors said that it was a miracle that I was being diagnosed before diabetic ketoacidosis, DKA. Most toddlers become unconscious and fall into a coma. That’s the parents’ first clue something is wrong. Mama says that God told her something was going on, because she said she knew I had diabetes before I even had symptoms. Really. My grandmama is a type 2 diabetic and mama wanted to use her meter to test my blood sugar a couple of weeks before I was hospitalized. Grandmama said that she was NOT gonna make the baby (AKA me!) bleed because my mama was neurotic. That’s a big word for crazy.
Then, I started getting sick to my stomach. I turned REALLY crabby. I cried a lot and always finished my drinks as soon as they were handed to me. One night, Grandma was babysitting me and she called my Mama to say I’d wet my pants and gotten urine on my jeans. Mama insisted that Grandma check my blood sugar. The meter didn’t have a number on it, though. It just said, “HI.” Grandmama said she didn’t know what that meant. Mama said it meant she was right and I DID have diabetes. We went to the Children’s Hospital that night, and everything in my life changed. My blood sugar was 587. I was given 1 unit of NPH insulin and 1 unit of Humalog insulin. I dropped to 43. Less than 2 drops of insulin did that. Talk about scary.
It was a Friday and they kept me until Sunday morning, teaching mama and daddy about insulin. I slept a lot, but then, Saturday afternoon, when my blood sugar was more normal I woke up and wanted to play. Our Children’s Hospital is pretty cool—it has wagons and scooters to ride in the hallways in case the patients get bored.
Mama didn’t like the NPH a whole lot so she fought with the doctors over the next couple of months. See, they said that you couldn’t have an insulin pump until you were 6. Mama said that was silly. I started pumping in February of 2009, just before I turned 2. I’m still one of the youngest kids in my state to pump. A new endocrinologist moved here and she’s cool about pumping. I hope a lot more kids get to pump because it made a big difference. And, not to brag or anything, but I also have a CGM so that mama and daddy can see my numbers as they happen. That helps a lot, too–especially since I have a bit of a sweet tooth.
So, that’s my story so far. I started kindergarten last year. When I get a little bigger, I can type all of this myself. Right now, all I can really say about diabetes is that it stinks.