We didn’t have type 1 diabetes in the family, and originally, I didn’t really know much about it – just that it meant you needed insulin.

Then, my son Joe was diagnosed in 2017, when he was 13. He was very unwell with diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) and ended up in the high dependency unit. That was our crash-course introduction to type 1 diabetes.

After that, we were invited to take part in a regional research study, which was looking at family members of people living with type 1 diabetes. My husband, our daughter Jaz and I all took part.

"We were happy to do anything that would help researchers understand the condition more."

We had a blood test that looked for signals called type 1 diabetes autoantibodies. These are early indicators that type 1 has started to develop. That’s how we found out that Jaz had these autoantibodies. She’d just turned 16.

At the time, we didn’t really understand what having these autoantibodies meant for her future risk of type 1. But I now know Jaz is in stage 1 of early type 1 diabetes. This means she has multiple autoantibodies and doesn’t have high blood sugar levels yet. But it’s very likely she’ll go on to ‘fully’ develop type 1 diabetes at some point and need insulin.

I was initially diagnosed with type 2 diabetes after displaying the common symptoms of type 1 diabetes, such as losing weight and having extreme thirst. However, it was later confirmed that I had type 1 diabetes after the tablets weren’t helping and so I was then put on insulin.

The year I was diagnosed was also the first time I lived independently– cooking questionable meals, going out (a little too much), sleeping in (definitely too much), and feeling genuinely free. Then, in mid-October 2020, I started feeling rough and went to a testing centre where I tested positive for COVID-19.

Knowing what I know now, I look back and wonder - was that the moment it all began? Emerging research says maybe. I’ve read studies on how the pandemic may have influenced rising rates of type 1 diabetes in young people. Diagnoses seemed to spike during that time, though the reasons still aren’t fully understood. Still, reading those studies helped - it reminded me that I wasn’t alone in what I was experiencing.

Shortly after my COVID experience, I felt the horrific symptoms of what I later learned was diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA). I was lying in my university room, dizzy, disoriented, and vomiting repeatedly over the course of three days. I blamed 'freshers' flu' – even though socialising was so limited at the time. I had no idea that my body was shutting down. 

My mum was very worried about me when we spoke on the phone, so I took the train home to Dorset in mid-December. She took one look at me and was shocked – I’d lost a lot of weight, my skin was grey, and my eyes had dark circles hanging under them. In the days that followed, staying at home, I could not stop thinking about consuming sugary drinks. I even dreamt of them. I didn’t know it then, but that overwhelming urge was my body screaming for insulin so it could process all the excess sugar in my body.

On Christmas Eve, I finally listened to my mum's concerns and saw a GP. My blood sugar was 40 mmol/L. I was told at this point that any reading over 11 was in the diabetes range, so a level of 40 was potentially really dangerous. When the doctor told me I had an emergency hospital appointment, I rang my sister. She seemed very worried, more worried than I was, because I didn’t yet understand what I was facing.

A few hours later, at the hospital, they broke the news: type 1 diabetes. I was told I was about a week away from falling into a diabetic coma.

"Time stood still as they talked about insulin, hypoglycaemia, and hyperglycaemia, none of which I really understood yet."

I began to grapple with the reality that I’d have to inject multiple times a day for the rest of my life, and that I’d need to quickly sharpen up my maths to calculate insulin-to-carb ratios.

The moment I was diagnosed with diabetes was both confusing and overwhelming. I was 15 years old, and, like any teenager, my mind was preoccupied with school, friends, and the typical challenges of adolescence. I remember sitting in a hospital room with my mum and meeting with a doctor who explained that I had diabetes and would need to take insulin injections multiple times a day for the rest of my life. I didn’t understand exactly what diabetes was.

"It felt surreal, like something that wasn’t really happening to me. I had other things on my mind, and what the diagnosis meant didn’t sink in at the time."

In the days following the diagnosis, specialist nurses visited my rural home daily to ensure I was managing my sugar levels and insulin injections. Despite their efforts, I still didn’t understand the full picture. I didn’t realise that insulin was meant to balance my sugar levels or that those levels had to stay within a specific range. I simply followed instructions without a true understanding of what was happening inside my body.

It took me years to understand just how serious diabetes is. Looking back, there were clear signs that something was wrong even before my diagnosis. I had a viral infection months earlier, and in the summer leading up to my diagnosis, I lost a lot of weight, was constantly thirsty, and experienced muscle cramps, especially after dancing. However, as a teenager, the weight loss seemed like a positive change, and I didn’t think much about my other symptoms. My focus was on school exams, friends, and, at the time, getting my first mobile phone, not on the fact that I was developing a condition that, if not managed well, could lead to complications.

The seriousness of diabetes became more apparent later in life.

For a few months before my diagnosis, I’d been feeling increasingly unwell. I felt very weak, had low energy, and was losing weight without trying. At the time, I had attributed these symptoms to my returning to work after maternity leave and looking after a little one – which usually means little sleep. I thought this was completely normal as a first-time mum, but my body was signalling that something far more serious was happening.

It was the day before my birthday back in 2017, when my life took an unexpected turn. It was a Monday when I was feeling really poorly, and my husband went to work, and my daughter was being cared for by my in-laws.

I had reached a point where I could no longer get up, open my eyes, or keep anything down. I called my parents and as soon as they arrived, they took one look at me and immediately called an ambulance.

It was a complete shock for my parents when the paramedic checked my glucose levels and questioned whether I had diabetes. The journey to the hospital was a complete blur. Upon arrival, the doctor explained that I had type 1 diabetes. My world fell apart as I grappled with the news and questions flooded my mind – it was really overwhelming. I’m grateful for the help I received that day as I had gone into diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA) and needed urgent care.

In the days that followed, reality began to sink in. My family and I received information from the consultant, but I felt confused, overwhelmed, and terrified. It was a lot to take in – learning about injections, carb counting, and the ‘honeymoon phase’ where some insulin was still being produced. I was in hospital for three days, celebrating my birthday there – I was grateful to see my daughter, who lit up the room. I knew I had to be strong for her.