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Walt Crocker diagnosed his own diabetes at the age of 14 when his uncle was hospitalized with the disease. Initially, Walt's family doctor ignored him, suggesting that he was just worried about his uncle. When he was finally tested, Walt's blood sugar level was 900, nine times higher than the normal level. At first Walt maintained tight control, testing often and weighing his food. But in his early twenties, he totally ignored his diabetes, instead focusing on going to parties, over working, and playing sports.
Eventually, his sneaky disease caught up with him resulting in loss of sight, nerve problems, two strokes, and finally, a kidney transplant in 2011. In "Diabetes! A Lifetime of Being Too Sweet", Walt relates a heartfelt and touching story of growing up poor, denial of the disease, dealing with diabetes complications, and the hopes he has for a future cure. He addresses the current diabetes epidemic that is sweeping the nation and affecting our youth. If current trends continue, by 2050, one in every three people in the United States will have diabetes. It is a valuable read for all diabetics and their families alike.
Please visit my Pubslush campaign to help market the book at http://pubslush.com/books/id/2777
Titolo originale
Excerpt from "Diabetes: A Lifetime of being too Sweet"
Walt Crocker diagnosed his own diabetes at the age of 14 when his uncle was hospitalized with the disease. Initially, Walt's family doctor ignored him, suggesting that he was just worried about his uncle. When he was finally tested, Walt's blood sugar level was 900, nine times higher than the normal level. At first Walt maintained tight control, testing often and weighing his food. But in his early twenties, he totally ignored his diabetes, instead focusing on going to parties, over working, and playing sports.
Eventually, his sneaky disease caught up with him resulting in loss of sight, nerve problems, two strokes, and finally, a kidney transplant in 2011. In "Diabetes! A Lifetime of Being Too Sweet", Walt relates a heartfelt and touching story of growing up poor, denial of the disease, dealing with diabetes complications, and the hopes he has for a future cure. He addresses the current diabetes epidemic that is sweeping the nation and affecting our youth. If current trends continue, by 2050, one in every three people in the United States will have diabetes. It is a valuable read for all diabetics and their families alike.
Please visit my Pubslush campaign to help market the book at http://pubslush.com/books/id/2777
Walt Crocker diagnosed his own diabetes at the age of 14 when his uncle was hospitalized with the disease. Initially, Walt's family doctor ignored him, suggesting that he was just worried about his uncle. When he was finally tested, Walt's blood sugar level was 900, nine times higher than the normal level. At first Walt maintained tight control, testing often and weighing his food. But in his early twenties, he totally ignored his diabetes, instead focusing on going to parties, over working, and playing sports.
Eventually, his sneaky disease caught up with him resulting in loss of sight, nerve problems, two strokes, and finally, a kidney transplant in 2011. In "Diabetes! A Lifetime of Being Too Sweet", Walt relates a heartfelt and touching story of growing up poor, denial of the disease, dealing with diabetes complications, and the hopes he has for a future cure. He addresses the current diabetes epidemic that is sweeping the nation and affecting our youth. If current trends continue, by 2050, one in every three people in the United States will have diabetes. It is a valuable read for all diabetics and their families alike.
Please visit my Pubslush campaign to help market the book at http://pubslush.com/books/id/2777
So there I am, a fourteen-year-old boy, going on fifteen, explaining to Dr. Lipsitz that I didnt feel very well, was losing weight, thirsty all the time, and tired, very tired. He then gives me a rudimentary examination and reassured me that everything checks out OK and that Im fine. As were leaving his office he patted me on the butt. He always patted me on my butt like a weird perverted uncle and I hated that. The next day my mom took me to see Ken in the hospital. He didnt look too good. He had also lost a lot of weight and was having problems with neuritis in his groin of all places. Diabetic neuropathy is the result of damage to the peripheral nerves, usually in the feet or hands, but it can occur in pretty much any part of the body that has nerves and a blood flow, and thats everywhere. It usually occurs after a few years of high blood sugar, so my uncle must have been diabetic for some time and not have been aware of it. My uncle equated the neuritis he was suffering from as being the equivalent of having severe sunburn on your balls. At one point, he had to lie in water in the bathtub just to sleep at night because just the friction of his scrotum rubbing against his underwear was excruciating. Diabetes! A Lifetime Of Being Too Sweet Walt Crocker
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But at least, after giving him some insulin, he was feeling a little bit better than he had felt before. He had taken some of his work from the office to the hospital with him and since he was the head of his department, he was writing a technical manual while lying in his bed. He later told me that his employers at Boise didnt think that he would ever be coming back to work While my uncle was feeling a little bit better in the hospital, I was feeling a whole lot worse. I bugged my mom and we went to see Dr. Lipsitz again. Once again he gave me a quick once over, thumped my chest, listened to my heart, and said everything was fine. A couple of weeks before the visit, I had noticed an ad in the newspaper that talked about how diabetes was a silent killer and left untreated could cause a whole host of problems. The ad said you could send away for a test strip, dip it in your urine, and send it back to see if you had any sugar in it; which was one of the main symptoms of the disease. I had gotten the letter back the day I went to see Dr. Lipsitz. The letter from the American Diabetes Association said that my urine showed the presence of sugar. I was absolutely positive that I had the same thing as my uncle and would soon die from it. Excerpt iii
While I was at the doctors office, I pulled out the letter and showed it to him. He remarked that those urine tests werent very accurate and that the only problem was that I was worried about my uncle and being a young hypochondriac. Then he looked me square in the eye and told me that if I didnt stop complaining and making him make room to see him at the expense of his other patients, who were really sick, he would have to put me in a mental hospital for a couple of days to basically get my head examined. Stop worrying! He said. Its just growing pains. I was so tired of hearing that. I kept complaining to my mom and guess what; I was back at the doctors office in a couple of days. This time we finally convinced him to do a glucose tolerance test. Back then, they didnt have the glucose monitors like they do today where you just stick your finger and get the results in 5 seconds. You had to go to the doctors office and get a fasting blood sugar drawn, then go home and eat a meal, wait a couple hours and then go back to the doctors office for a second time to see how much your blood sugar had risen. I went back to my grandparents house and my grandmother asked me what I wanted for breakfast. I decided to go all in. I told her I Diabetes! A Lifetime Of Being Too Sweet Walt Crocker
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wanted eggs, sausage, and a nice big stack of buttermilk pancakes with lots of butter and Karo corn syrup. Thinking back on it know, that meal must have been close to a thousand calories when you added in the milk and copious amounts of orange juice. It took a couple of days to get the results. I was back in Dr. Lipsitzs office for like the third time in a week or so. I sat in the familiar leather chair looking across the huge oaken desk at him. I remember there was a little paperweight that I was staring at. I dont remember what it was for, but it looked like a spark plug and the end of it was flashing on and off. I waited for the worst. Dr. Lipsitz gave me a serious look and spoke gravely: I hate to tell you son, but you have diabetes. Your post meal blood sugar came back over 900. Really? I thought to myself. I've been trying to tell you that all along, you idiot! I didn't say this out loud, of course, after all he WAS a doctor and I was taught to show respect to people by my grandparents. I basically refused to see Dr. Lipsitz again after the threat to put me in the loony bin for giving a correct diagnosis that he, mister fancy pants doctor, failed to come up with. Instead, I went to see a doctor down the hall from him named Excerpt v
Dr. Freeman. He was pretty cool and was a diabetic himself. He decided since my blood sugar was coma level, that he would put me in the hospital immediately. Since I was just about ready to turn the ripe old age of fifteen, he decided to put me in the adult hospital. My uncle Ken had been put back in, so I actually got to share a room with him. The doctors figured that since I was so young, being in the same room with my uncle would keep me from going into a panic. The first day that I was in the hospital, they gave me an insulin shot and I began to feel much better except for the fact that some bloodsucking nurse was coming in what seemed like every five minutes and drawing blood from my arm to check my sugar. The pinprick portable tester didn't come along until a few years later. The first prototypes for those testers were huge. I equate them with the very first computers that filled an entire room and had to have their own air conditioning systems. The blood sugar monitors were so big that you had to carry them on your back like a backpack instead of just shoving a super mini into your pocket or on your key chain like you can today. Back then, the only way you could test your sugar at home was to either use a test strip that you peed on or pee into a cup and then put a few drops of your urine onto a chemical tablet that you placed at the bottom of a little test tube. Diabetes! A Lifetime Of Being Too Sweet Walt Crocker
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Once the urine hit the tablet it started a chemical reaction and started boiling furiously for a few seconds. It would either be blue, which meant the absence of sugar in your urine or various shades of red or orange. Orange meant that you were spilling a lot of sugar in your urine and your diabetes was out of control. The test tube, or Clinitest, method was more time consuming and cumbersome, but it was also more accurate than the paper strip. The test strips only took a few seconds to pee on the tape, which came in a little plastic dispenser, but it was less accurate. Most diabetics at the time used both, the Clinitest at home and the test tape when they were on the road. My uncle and I developed our own little lingo for the test results: If your blood sugar was too low, then you said that you were feeling negative and if it was orange and it was too high, you were feeling too positive. It made sense to us. At the hospital, the lessons began. Diabetes is a very labor intensive disease and classes began the first day that I was in the hospital. I was given several booklets to read that told what the disease was, how it was treated before insulin, (starvation), how people used to die from it before insulin, and the story of Banting and Best, who discovered it. Here's a brief primer on diabetes, or as they call it in Excerpt vii
the inner city where I grew up...The ShuGARS. As in Oh, Lordy honey, you got the ShuGARS! I also once had an elderly lady at the pharmacy tell me: Aw, sorry you got the diabetics. Or, you can say it like Wilford Brimly on TV: I got the diabeTUS. My uncle once told me: However they say it, they certainly got the DIE part right. We also said that when you have diabetes, you have something wrong with the pancake gland. Type 1 diabetes is a genetically based immune disorder. It usually happens in childhood. The immune system attacks the insulin producing cells in the pancreas and eventually it stops producing insulin altogether. With Type 2 diabetes, which used to only happen in people over forty, the pancreas doesn't produce enough insulin or the body becomes resistant to it. This can happen because of a number of factors: age, obesity, diet, and a genetic disposition towards having the disease. In other words, it runs in the family. Sometimes you can get pre-diabetes, or as they call it today; Metabolic Syndrome. Diabetes is a little like stress- related high blood pressure where stress causes the fight or flight syndrome. Your body produces adrenaline when you feel threatened and raises your blood pressure. This was good in pre-historic times when you didn't want to Diabetes! A Lifetime Of Being Too Sweet Walt Crocker
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be eaten by a predator. But when it happens day after day because of stress, your blood pressure gets permanently elevated. There are other causes as well, like hardening of the arteries and inflammation. When you consume a lot of calories and glucose, your blood sugar rises and this stimulates your pancreas to produce extra insulin to compensate for it. Insulin is a hormone that allows your muscles to burn the glucose from your diet. This is the fuel that your body runs on, especially your brain. Eventually, this response can cause the pancreas to sort of wear out and not produce enough insulin. In some cases, if people just lose weight and exercise, it's enough to bring their blood sugar under control, but with others, they have to either take insulin, or a host of other drugs that stimulate the pancreas to produce insulin. It's really much more complicated than that, but that's pretty much the basics. So there I was in the bed next to my uncle trying to get my fifteen-year-old self used to hospital life as well as trying to accept the fact that there would be no more donuts or pancakes on Sunday mornings, no more Coke or Pepsi, and, good God, no more Twinkies or chocolate cupcakes with the swirls (seven) on top. Now, the only thing that I could have that was sweet was the occasional piece of fresh fruit. And Excerpt ix
speaking of fruit, after a couple of days in the hospital, there I was practicing my skills with a needle and syringe on an orange. The explanation was that the orange was ideal because the thickness of its skin mimicked that of a human. In my mind, the sooner that I could start injecting myself, the better, because then I wouldn't have to watch Sally the nurse hold the syringe in her mouth while rubbing the alcohol on my arm for the injection. She was old and wrinkled and nasty-looking and I didn't think that putting the syringe in her mouth was all that sanitary. After all, this was a hospital. One of the other things that I noticed on the menu that I was brought every meal with the no sugar! circled in big red letters was that there was a selection of wine. (It was a Jewish hospital.) I didn't know that you could have a glass of wine with your meal in the hospital back then. Maybe they've changed it now, I don't know. I tried to order a glass, but they wouldn't give me any.