National Diabetes Week

IMG_1972.JPGWith bated breath I sit in a waiting room listening for my name to be called. I’m trying to pass the time by watching the silent morning news and scrolling through Instagram but really I only have one thing on my mind. My name gets called.. as I follow the nurse down the corridor I hear my stomach growl, a constant reminder that I have a child in my womb. One, two, three viles later I am escorted back to the waiting room. Waiting for this process to happen again, twice more actually, over the course of the next 2 hours. Like clockwork I feel the effects of the sugary drink I forced down an hour earlier, these symptoms are so familiar..I feel tears start to prick my eyes and spill down my cheeks. Not again I whisper..
4 days later I see a call come through from a number I don’t recognise- I already know what the nurse is going to say. “Hello, is this Stephanie?.. you are positive for GD.”

So, now, here I sit.

I see this referral almost every morning- I can’t lose it so I don’t put it away where I am bound to forget it exists.. in a month I will sit in the same waiting room and repeat this process. Having given birth to two healthy babies I can’t find fault in my body and yet here I am praying that it performs as it should.

I’m the 1 in 9, predisposed by my Middle Eastern heritage. There’s a stigma attached to it- we take pin pricks 4 times a day, nurses check our results every few weeks, doctor’s run through what we’re eating and treat us like toddlers. We pay for test strips and miniature needles, we set alarms on our phones multiple times a day. Our appointments are 3 times longer than usual, 2 hours in a waiting room is considered normal..
If you’ve had it once you will more than likely have it again they tell you..

Diabetes doesn’t always look the same person to person but it’s something that can drastically change a persons life.

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