My story and diagnosis

Explaining what's going on and how to go on.

After a coma and 3 weeks in ICU

2016, Stellenbosch, South Africa

About me: My name is Ané. I'm 20 years old, and I live in South Africa. My parents lives in Bloemfontein, and my brother and I are studying in Stellenbosch.

I have decided to start writing about being a type 1 diabetic, depression and anxiety, a young lady, university student, want-to-be-mother in the future, etc.

All rotating around my useless pancreas.

I want to share my story with you, so that you can learn from my mistakes without making them yourself. I want to speak for both small children and for their caregivers, giving advice (I'm not a doctor, but boy, I have experience) helping both cope with the stress involving diabetes.

As a child, I've been the healthiest girl there could be. Years went by that I never went to the doctor, not even for a fever or flu. I was always skinny, although I have a huge bone structure. I started swimming as a toddler. I participated in a lot of galas representing my school and club. I played hockey and tennis, and  sang in a world famous children's choir from the age of 7. I loved playing with Lego and my dolls, just like any child. I had good grades through out primary school. I never studied, and still achieved above average in a good school.


High school came, and things started to change for me. The first few months of high school was reasonable. I made a lot of good friends, was included in the schools top 20 swimming team etc. I started to loose weight. I was never over weight in my life, so it seemed like a dramatic weight loss. Despite me eating our fridge empty, I lost about 12kg before my diagnostic. I peed about every 30minutes. I wet my bed 3 times. It was so embarrassing. My sight was bad. I remember playing field hockey, not being able to see the ball. I was punished in the team for missing the ball. No one could explain why my performance suddenly started to drop...


The clearest memory I have before my diagnosis when I realised something is truly wrong, was mid July 2010. I turned 14 a month ago. I was on a school trip to a town about 700km from my hometown. Our school played sports against a school in Port Elizabeth. We went there by train. I remember having to go to those dirty train toilets more often than not. My mother was in Germany for a course about educating language. Our family also had two German exchange students visiting for about 3 months each. My dad was left in charge of the 4 of us. My mother promised to take me to the doctor when she returns from Germany. My exchange student and I got off the train and went to our schools residence since it's hard for my father to take care of all of us without my mother being there. I got sick while I was in the boarding house. I got severe bronchitis, about to become pneumonia.



My #T1D story officially began on 26 July 2010. My grandmother, which I loved to bits, took me to our general practitioner to get medication. He usually does an urine test. In the urine test, he noticed the excessive amount of sugar in my urine. Without even prescribing medication, he phoned the nearest hospital and told them to expect me. I quickly went home to get clothes and the basics that I needed. I was very upset about the situation. It was really traumatic to me. This was the first time that I was admitted to hospital. I was terrified.


We went to ER, where my blood glucose was tested. They had to fetch a bigger machine, because my glucose was too high to be read. I was immediately admitted in a general ward. My doctor was a pulmonologist since I had bronchitis. At that stage, there was no qualified endocrinologist in Bloemfontein where I was in hospital. My sugar was 48.3mmol (869,4mg/dl) and ketones 5.2+. I didn't go into DKA (diabetic ketone acidosis) and I was wide awake. I shocked doctors. It was a really big shock to myself, as any type 1 diabetic will tell you about their diagnosis.



I was so spoilt in hospital. I got so many soft toys and flowers, I had to get an extra table next to my bed to put everything. Since no one could get me things to eat, except biltong (dried meat, beef jerky) and Coke Light, I got spoilt with board games and toys.


My dad is a judge, so he was in court the majority of the day. My grandma stayed with me when she had time, since she had to take my brother and his exchange student home and wherever they had to be. She kept me company. Friends of my parents came to visit. I was rarely alone.



The physiotherapy appointments for my lungs where exhausting and long. I was bombarded with information from my dietitian. Portion sizes, carb counting, low GI vs. low GL, carbohydrate-, protein and fat ratio, was 60-35-5 at that stage. I got so many recipe books from friends. It was just overwhelming. Insulin representatives came and confused me with all kinds of different makes, short and long acting, insulin pumps etc.


My doctor phoned Reach For A Dream Foundation. It's a non-profit organisation that gives chronically ill children a "dream come true" experience. My initial wish was to meet former president Nelson Mandela, which was unrealistic. I had the opportunity a few months later to meet the South African Paralympic swimmer, Natalie du Toit. It was an experience that I will cherish for life.

After being in the hospital for a week. I felt lost and insecure. My parents were mostly not with me in hospital when doctors came to talk to me about diabetes.It was just me. My mother cooked the right food, and my dad paid the bills. All the other things was on me. 

I had internal conflict about my T1D. Then, I thought, if I had to put my whole life in a bag, and throw it in the air and catch anyone's bag, who's bag will I want? My parents are still married, I don't have a lot of money, but I have more than enough, I have a medical aid, I have an intact nervous system, I can't run, but I can swim, I can breathe without trouble... Sounds cheesy, but I do have a lot to be very thankful for, that I take for granted.

Time passed by. Five and a half years later, I'm still fighting and defending my warrior title. I've survived a lot. From unconsciousness, severe DKA's to being conscious at 0.7mmol. I've survived a few people in ICU, which was very traumatic. I have generalized anxiety disorder and major depression. It's all linked. Sometimes I don't know if I'm stressing about my high sugars or if my high sugars make me stress.

But what I know, is that in the end, the fight, struggle, the lack of sleep, finger pricks, injections etc., will be worth it.

Gained weight, 5 months after diagnosis.
(Pants size 6, weighed about 42kg, made good
progress.)

Swimming, despite it all.

Natalie du Toit and I as part of Reach for a Dream.