My life with diabetes.

Friday the 30th December 2011. D-Day for my family. The day that diabetes became a part of our family consciousness.
Until that day diabetes was always just something that a patient might have. Something that meant doing a little finger prick test before dinner and maybe calling someone else to deal with medications. I had never cared for a patient with a diabetic complication as the reason for their admission so it was always something that patients had alongside whatever ailment had brought them into hospital.
It seems bizarre now, looking back, that neither of us seriously considered diabetes being the cause of man in uniforms unwellness ( yes I know that's not an actual word!). Despite him having all the classic symptoms of high blood glucose levels: extreme thirst, frequent urination, nausea, abdominal pain, cramps etc. we joked about diabetes but neither of us seriously thought that was the cause of all this (I thought it was a peptic ulcer). On our Christmas Day (the 28th- belated Xmas due to shift work!) he became so unwell he finally conceded and arranged a trip to the doctor.
I can still remember the phone call now, he called from the surgery telling me the GP thought it was diabetes, he was referred immediately to the diabetes centre at our local hospital. When he got home from the doctors grief and horror were written all over his face. I remember trying to reassure him, a stupid flippant comment about how it could be worse.
I can't fault the care given by the diabetic consultant nurse hi saw him, I still have issues with the fact that he was sent home without any further investigation. I guess the hospital were busy and because, on face value, he appeared less unwell than he actually was.
It later emerged he was, at the very least ketotic if not in full diabetic ketoacidosis. The consultant later told us that had the full extent of his condition been realised he would probably of been admitted to high dependency. I still have issues with the decisions made by the medics but as my husband keeps telling me; no harm no foul.
The months following his diagnosis have been hard. He has had long periods of sickness. For someone who always has to be busy this has been a nightmare. He has been stripped of his operational duties because of concerns over type 1's driving on blue lights (another story altogether) and at one point had his car licence suspended as he had lost his hypo warning signs.
I can only imagine what all this has done to him, he is someone who defines himself by his career. It has almost been like a bereavement. We have certainly been through many of the stages of grief: anger, denial, bargaining.
It has obviously been hard for him, why I didn't anticipate was the impact it would have on the rest of us. My daughter, then age 4, was terrified when he first started injecting. E had to make it into a game for her-picking which finger to test from etc.
I am still trying to get my head round it. I have stopped "nagging", I have been told that I don't understand. He's right of course, I dot understand. It's not me it's happened too.
That said, it's unfair to think it doesn't effect me. I joke about a future where I will become his carer because he has lost a leg or gone blind or had a stroke. The truth is the future scares me. Sometimes his attitude towards his management infuriates me. Because it doesn't just effect him. We are a team and its OUR future that will change because of this. I don't want to end up his carer nor do I want to be alone prematurely.
I feel stuck because there is no one I can talk about this too. I don't want to seem negative and morbid but I am scared. I thinks it partly explains my enthusiasm for following all the amazing and inspiring diabetics there are on twitter. It reassures me that life goes on and there are others out there. Now if I could just find some T1 +1's I'd be well away! (Seriously-if anyone can point me in the direction of a support group for panicking partners I'd much appreciate it!).
I hope whoever reads this takes it as it was written-me baring my feelings about this whole thing. I know it could be worse and I am grateful that I am still able to hug/talk to/argue with my man in uniform. The above thoughts are my deepest, darkest fears. And this blog has been my debrief. So thank you for hearing me out. X