Zack at School
My, how things change.
I went from age 11 1/2 (1950) to age 16 before I saw another young person with
diabetes. I had thought I was the only one in the world before that. Diabetic
camp cost $100 for one week — we couldn’t afford it but I was given $5 a week
allowance. If we had saved $2 a week I could have gone to camp. We had no such
thing as home blood testing - only urine which was 4 hours after the fact and
people have different *thresholds* of spilling sugar.
I heard (a few years ago) that the school was brought together as an assembly
and discussed the fact that I had diabetes (I missed many weeks because of the
coma) but it was not discussed with me. I was kind of shunned. When I went to
high school we didn’t tell the teachers. I did show my card to the biology
teacher when we studied db in class - he almost brought it up, then figured it
would embarass me and changed the subject.
I was always expected to die (therefore, urged to enjoy life - eat anything and
everything) so I picked the ripe old age of 35 that I would surely be dead. I
TURNED 60 iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii <candles
ON MAY 24 = 8^-D and plan to see the next century/millenium.
I call the attitude of my mom, ignorance by choice.
Old Lady Jan