About 20 years ago, I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. Because type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease (like multiple sclerosis or lupus or arthritis), my diagnosis was a result of my body attacking itself ultimately killing the cells that produce insulin. Insulin stabilizes the body’s blood sugar level and is an imperative part of life. Without insulin, humans can’t survive so at the young age of 11, I began taking insulin shots to supplement my faulty pancreas. As technology has improved, so has my freedom. I now wear an insulin pump which delivers insulin into my body around the clock, and I program it to dose additionally when I eat.
Wearing an insulin pump has nothing to do with the severity of type 1 diabetes. It doesn’t mean I have it “worse” than someone else, neither does it mean I have a “bad case” of diabetes. There’s no such thing; all forms of diabetes are bad.
When my blood sugar gets too high or too low, my brain doesn’t work like it’s supposed to. I can’t always rationalize things or have a cognitive response to a situation. It’s why I’m diligent about making sure my blood sugars are in the proper range. Highs and lows come with many symptoms, but after 20 years of diabetes I can’t identify the symptoms as quickly as I did when I was younger. Lows are the worst because they come on fast. The continuous glucose monitor I wear doesn’t always alert me before my brain starts to get a little fuzzy.
The textbook term for a low blood sugar is called insulin shock. Even when I’m in fuzzy-brain mode, I’m coherent. But in extreme cases of insulin shock, my blood sugar drops so quickly I can have a seizure. I’ve had six in the span of my 20-year diabetes life. Fortunately, I haven’t had one in 12 years. They are rare, but they can happen and sometimes, very quickly without much warning.
This is one of the reasons I don’t drive when my blood sugar is below 70 or when I have symptoms (fuzzy brain) of a low. While extreme insulin shock is rare, it’s always a possibility. But again, lows can occasionally happen without much notice. Diabetes does not impair my driving. I’m perfectly capable of driving, and I have an excellent driving record.
I’m in the best shape of my life right now. I’m active, I eat well and I take care of my body. My diabetes is under near-perfect control, and my current A1c is 6.5 — something my endocrinologist and myself are very pleased with. That being said, I still have low blood sugars. Truth be told, the better control I have over my numbers, the higher the risk for lows. If my blood sugar is in the 80-120 range, (which is standard for a non-diabetic), it only takes a small nudge (like a half a unit of insulin or a short walk around my office building) to push it below that 80 mark.
Recently, there was a terrible accident in Huntsville. An 18-year-old who just graduated from a local high school is accused of colliding with several vehicles along a multiple-mile stretch of road. A beautiful 10-year-old girl was killed and others were injured. According to police and bystander reports, it appeared as though the driver fled the scene of the accident, potentially making it a felony. Police officials released a statement confirming reports the driver had type 1 diabetes and his health was a factor in the accident. He was also severely injured in the accident.
While I don’t know the details, I would imagine he went into severe insulin shock as I described above. I certainly don’t know what happened. I don’t know if he checked his blood sugar before getting into the truck. I don’t know if a low blood sugar came on too fast. But I do know it was a terrible accident. My heart breaks for his family and for the other families involved — especially the family of the young girl who lost her life. The story and its follow-ups have initiated a firestorm of responses, many demanding to know why the young man didn’t pull the car over. Some even went as far as to say diabetics shouldn’t be allowed to drive if seizures are a possibility.
Technically, seizures are a possibility with diabetes. Just as difficulty breathing can happen in asthmatics. Or trouble gripping a steering wheel can be a side effect of rheumatoid arthritis. Or how someone severely overweight with high blood pressure is at a greater risk for suffering from a heart attack. Playing the “possibility” game is dangerous and would eliminate most of us from getting behind the wheel of a car.
Because healthy people develop diabetes. Fit and thin people have heart attacks. And people without epilepsy have seizures.
I am deeply saddened by what’s happened in my town. A young girl lost her life in an accident, and another young man’s life will never be the same because of an accident. Lives were shattered and hearts were broken because of an accident. It is my genuine prayer that my community will rally around both of these families. Their pain is different, but equally tremendous. Their lives will never be the same, and no amount of money deemed fitting by a court of law will ever change what happened.
*This post is merely my opinion. I don’t know anyone involved in the accident, and I don’t know details or facts about the case. These are only my thoughts.