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Nancy Drew Fan: Winning the Battle Against Diabetes--Part 3

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Having a dry mouth is really not a lot of fun.

It’s like feeling sort of thirsty, but in a different, cotton-mouthed sort of way. I was never dying of thirst or anything, but in spite of the extra bottle of water or two I drank throughout the day, it just never went away.

As I sipped water, iced tea, and Gatorade in an effort to get rid of the mild thirst sensation, in between trips to the bathroom I kept busy Googling my symptoms.

Every single website that came up mentioned the same thing: Type 2 diabetes.

Talk about a sinking feeling. I literally felt ill the more I read. Me? With Type 2 diabetes? Impossible.

As I read on, I realized it wasn’t so impossible after all.

Although I have no family history of the disease, at least not that I’m aware of, when my symptoms began I was overweight. Being a work-at-home Mom has been great for me in every way but my waistline.

At 5’ 6” and 205 pounds, I was actually even more than overweight, according to the BMI scale. Technically, I was obese. As someone who spent most the first 30 years of her life thin, that five-letter word was really hard to accept.

Incidentally, it’s taken me about 11 months to be brave enough to admit what my weight was, and even typing that last paragraph was really difficult. Hitting the 200-pound mark is certainly not something I’m proud of. But I figure if I’m going to help others, I have to be honest and open about everything, even what the scale was showing me.

I had also given birth to two big babies. Did you know that having babies over nine pounds is a risk factor for developing diabetes? I didn’t either, but it’s true. I never had gestational diabetes with either pregnancy, but I did give birth to a couple of whoppers—my first son was 9 pounds, 10 ounces at birth and my second was 10 days early and 8 pounds, 10 ounces. If he had stayed in the whole time he easily would have topped 9 pounds.

As the weekend came up and the dry mouth was still bothering me, I told myself that I’d give it until Monday before calling my primary care physician for an appointment. When Monday came and it was still going on, I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath, and picked up the phone.

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We value and respect our HERWriters' experiences, but everyone is different. Many of our writers are speaking from personal experience, and what's worked for them may not work for you. Their articles are not a substitute for medical advice, although we hope you can gain knowledge from their insight.


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