This article has been reprinted with permission from Science 37. The original article can be viewed here.
I’ll admit it – I’m still recovering. You see, I’m a Dodgers fan. I wasn’t even going to mention that little factoid after their heartbreaking loss in the World Series (I attended Game 2, so at least I can cross that off the bucket list). But I got inspired when I watched an interview with Brandon Morrow, a Dodgers relief pitcher who became only the second play in MLB history to pitch in all seven games of a World Series. Before the series began, he was asked how he manages his (type 1) diabetes as an athlete competing at the highest level.
We’ve been doing a lot of work around diabetes at Science 37, and trying to understand the experiences of those who live with it. Having that in the back of my mind, and then seeing Morrow discuss how he manages his diabetes, reminded me of someone I knew – an aunt – who had diabetes. Only she didn’t know she had it. As a result, my family knows firsthand the perils of leaving it untreated.
The Wedding
As Sophia Petrillo used to say, picture it, March 2001. I was a high school senior in Los Angeles juggling a crazy schedule – extracurricular activities, advanced placement classes, editor-in-chief duties for the yearbook, you name it. I was looking forward to the end of the month, when I got to take a break from school craziness for a few days to visit the Bay Area for my cousin Kassandre’s wedding. I come from a big family – my mother had seven siblings, and I grew up seeing my cousins pretty often. Kassandre is the oldest of them, meaning that the new generation was preparing to take those big life steps. It was an exciting time, but that wasn’t all that was in store for us that weekend up north.
Less than a week before the wedding and less than 100 miles away from the church, my aunt Oretha – who at 31 was the baby sister – was rushed to a Stockton hospital after being found unconscious in her apartment. She had been out with my mom the previous evening, a Saturday, shopping at the mall for a dress for Kassandre’s wedding. Oretha’s health wasn’t great, and she had put on a bit of weight over the last few years, the most likely culprits being all the fried, high-fat, and high-sugar foods she ate. She hadn’t been to the doctor in more than a year. But luckily, that was about to change. Linda, one of her older sisters, nagged her until she made a doctor’s appointment. In fact, the appointment was set for the day after the wedding.
My mom called Linda later that Saturday evening and mentioned that Oretha hadn’t looked well while they were shopipng. She was pale and appeared to be sick. Linda called Oretha that night, but there was no answer. She tried the next morning before going to church, but still no answer. One of my uncles went by to check on Oretha Sunday morning and discovered her passed out on the living room floor. An upturned bowl of cereal was next to her, milk seeping into the carpet.
The Funeral
At the hospital, the family learned that Oretha had developed ketoacidosis as a result of diabetes. It turns out that she had type 2 diabetes and never knew, meaning that it never got treated. As a result, her blood sugar got to such a high level that ketones built up her blood, which in turn caused her blood to become acidic, which in turn caused damage to her organs. She was somewhat lucid and said a few words when a couple of her sisters visited her at the hospital. They also saw tears streaming down her face. They tried to keep her calm and be there in case she needed anything. Oretha slipped into a diabetic coma less than a day later and was put on life support. The nephrologist (kidney doctor) was insistent that Oretha wasn’t going to make it and should be taken off life support. Linda vehemently disagreed – not wanting to “play God” – but Oretha was eventually taken off life support, and she died three days before the doctor’s appointment Linda had insisted she make. Kassandre’s wedding in the Bay Area went on as planned, and a couple days later we made the drive to Stockton for Oretha’s funeral. The wedding left me (and I suspect others) with a weird feeling, almost like it was inappropriate to be happy for Kassandre knowing that we’d be attending Oretha’s funeral in a matter of days. It was heartbreaking to lose my youngest aunt before she had the chance to get married, or have kids, or even see me graduate high school.
In the following years, I learned just how much diabetes has devastated my family. Four of the eight children from my mother’s generation have it, including my mother (before she passed in 2010 of a heart attack at 48 – Linda believes that diabetes may have played a role in her heart attack, too, but we’re unable to confirm that). My aunt Linda herself has diabetes – she was taking a final exam for a class seven years ago and couldn’t see the paper. She thought her vision was impaired and got prescription eyeglasses. But when she went to her primary care doctor, she discovered that her A1c – a measurement of how many red blood cells have sugar attached to them – was 8.0%. An A1c level below 5.7% is considered normal; anything exceeding 6.5% signals type 2 diabetes. Yet another relative, Shirley, ended up on an insulin IV drip in the ER. If we take it back to my grandparents’ generation, you’ll see similarities: my maternal grandfather was one of 10 children, and five of them developed diabetes over the course of their lives.
The Lessons
This wedding-and-funeral experience, along with learning just how prevalent diabetes is in my family…I won’t lie. It’s a little scary. I don’t have nightmare or anything, but sometimes I’ll reach for a snack – the Golden Oreos in the snack bowl at work, or maybe that pint of Salt & Straw ice cream in the freezer at home – and then stop myself. Am I just being paranoid? A little snack won’t hurt. But little snacks add up. I guess it means that I just have to be vigilant about my own health. It means that I have to take going to the doctor and getting those regular check-ups more seriously than I would have otherwise. It also means that I’m especially mindful of my diet. Of course, I’m already known to be somewhat neurotic about food – just ask my Science 37 colleagues! But having this personal experience means diabetes is not simply another disease to treat; I’ve witnessed its disruption, and I’ve seen it transform life’s happiest moments into tragedy.
As Science 37 continues its journey into the world of diabetes – understanding the experience of living with it, being aware of the challenges, and recognizing where we can help – I’m glad that stories like mine are rising to the surface. And I know there are likely many, many more. These stories help remind us why our work is important and why there’s still so much work to do in turning the tide against these chronic conditions. And maybe, just maybe, my food quirks will start to make sense.
Last modified on September 28th, 2022 at 2:11 pm