Young Love

by David Goldman

My wife Debbie and I started dating in 1981. We had known each other for about eight years at that point but were just friends. Her high school friends were my college friends. I think she knew I was a diabetic. This was also the time when my eyes were getting pretty bad due to diabetic complications and nighttime driving was becoming very difficult. Me being a stupid, testosterone-laden male, made it difficult to admit I couldn’t drive anymore. But Debbie didn’t seem to mind handling the driving responsibilities so I almost never drove at night. Other than that, I’m not sure how much she knew about diabetes and specifically, insulin reactions. 

She found out quickly though.

The first time I stayed at her place (no, we weren’t married yet, so feel free to gasp with disapproval) I woke up in the middle of the night and was having an insulin reaction. She asked me what was wrong and I gave her the quick explanation and told her I needed to eat something sweet. We went to the refrigerator and other than ketchup, the only thing in there was a single yogurt cup. I asked if I could eat it and she said it was her roommate’s but I should go ahead and eat it, which I did and it worked. I felt better.

Unfortunately, her roommate wasn’t as generous with her lonely yogurt as Debbie was. She had a fit. It was full of yelling and swearing primarily at me but Debbie certainly caught some flak as well. I explained to her that it really was a medical emergency but I guess needing a yogurt to immediately relieve a dire medical condition just wasn’t on her radar. I promised her I’d replace the yogurt that morning – with a few to spare I might add! But she never forgave me for it. Some people are just a bit too tightly wound.

A short time later I invited Debbie over for dinner. I had it all planned. I was going to wine and dine her just like in the movies. I had the menu prepared, candles, the works. I figured this would be a good way for me to show her that I really cared for her. I would do all of the preparation, the cooking and cleanup while she would sit back and be astounded by my culinary talents. 

Unfortunately, this was also the beginning of the point in my life where I didn't recognize the symptoms that typically occurred when I was having an insulin reaction. It’s a pretty common occurrence for someone who's been a juvenile diabetic for twenty or more years and has had many insulin reactions. Your body doesn't sense the weakness, confusion, or other symptoms while they are taking place and the blood sugar level continues to drop since the hypoglycemic state isn't being treated. Left untreated, it eventually causes unconsciousness and potentially much worse damage.

So, here I was preparing this meal to impress my girlfriend and I thought I was doing pretty well. I wasn't. At some point while I was in the kitchen, she came in and said, “Are you having a problem?”

My response was, and it made perfect sense to me at the time, “Yeah, I can’t read this package.” I was staring at a package of rice and apparently had been doing so for quite some time trying to figure something out. Debbie told me that I looked tired and said I should go lie down and she would take over.

“No, I’m fine. Really!”

“What does the package say?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. It’s hard to read.”

She insisted I vacate the kitchen and rest. She thought that I couldn’t see the package because of my vision. My problem was that I really couldn’t read it. I stared at the box but the letters just wouldn’t translate to words. I lied down on the bed and that was it.

The next thing I knew a paramedic was loudly saying my name. Initially, he sounded like he was calling me from a dream somewhere in a deep crevasse of my brain. The voice got more and more insistent that I wake up. Grudgingly, I opened my eyes and there he was – a paramedic with a Glucagon injector in his hand. Glucagon is a highly concentrated glucose mixture in an injectable form. It’s something most diabetics and paramedics have around at all times. I had it available. I just wasn’t in any state to know, or be able to use it.

Within a few minutes, I was feeling pretty good. My blood sugar level was coming back up into the readable range. When the paramedic first arrived, Debbie told him that I was a diabetic so one of the first things he did was check my blood sugar. That first time it was too low to read and his meter was readable down to 20. Normal is between 70 and 100. Anything below 60 is dangerous territory. Needless to say, if I had been alone I probably wouldn’t have come out of it. One the other hand, a simple sugar boost, kind of like a glucose espresso, took care of my symptoms within a few short minutes.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but this was the beginning of a truly problematic period in my life. I was losing the ability to feel these reactions coming on.  Unknowingly, I started  putting myself and others into  dangerous, even life-threatening situations. I couldn’t feel reactions coming on and at that point in time, home blood sugar monitoring meters were still a few years away. Consequently, I couldn’t check my blood sugar to see if I was okay to get behind the wheel of the car, I often didn’t realize how low my blood sugar was. I could be driving in a condition more dangerous than driving an automobile while over the legal alcohol limit. It wouldn’t even seem that unusual for me to get lost coming home from work and couldn’t even figure out where I was when I was in my own neighborhood. 

None of this fazed Debbie though. She learned all the ins and outs of diabetes, and all of its effects. Despite them all she stuck with me. Not an easy thing to do.

The day Debbie and I were applying for our marriage license we had to have blood tests done. Back then it was the law. My results showed I had kidney disease and would soon be in ESRD (end stage renal disease) or complete kidney failure. This was not a great thing to learn about your soon to be husband when you’re only 26 years old. 

But she stuck with me and committed to spending her life knowing she would have challenges because of my diabetes. She is a very special person. We have spent the last 30 years working together as a team. It’s been easy for us to stay together. Maybe the adversities made our bond stronger. I was very fortunate. I married a loving, caring, wonderful woman who understands facing challenges. And I know if she has to, she’ll share her yogurt.