My name is Steffany.

I am 16 years old and I live in the UK.

I was diagnosed as a type 1 diabetic when I was 8 months old.

And that was when it all began.

My diagnosis was not easy. Obviously as I was a baby I don't remember, but my parents told me what happened. And how hard it was for them and my older sister who was 2 at the time.

I was a happy little baby until at about 6 months old I got a cold, nothing major, nothing life threatening, just a cold. However my mother and many doctors have told me that this was properly what triggered my immune system to attack my pancreas. I was at risk of diabetes anyway, as it runs on my father's side of the family. I guess that risk level in my genes and that first injection just made my body go haywire and I started to get ill. I went to a happy baby to a baby that cried 24/7, that was sick after every feed, and properly used up the whole of the UK's nappy supply; I also got horrible infections mainly in my ears and must have been in horrible pain. My mother after two months thought enough was enough and took me to the doctor and expressed her suspicions that there was something more sinister causing all my problems, however the doctor just put the problems down to yet another ear infection and turned her away. A couple of hours later I was completely comatose and my mother rushed me into hospital where they feared that I had got meningitis and pumped my limp body with lots of sugar-filled antibiotics to see if that could save me. Hours passed and I just got worse, my organs where starting to fail and they told my parents if they didn't find out what was wrong soon I was going to have permanent brain damage or even die. They did many tests to find out what was wrong with me; however the one that saved my life was the test they did on my spinal fluid. Where they discovered I had deadly amounts of sugar in my body, they asked my father if diabetes ran in the family, on which they said yes and that was when they realised I was in DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) and they started to pump into my body the insulin that saved me. I eventually came out of the coma with thankfully no long term damage however the whole experience must have been awful for my family, however they persevered, they learnt how to handle my diabetes, learning how to inject using an orange (must be why I hate oranges now) and then on me. I can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to inject your baby daughter, and watch her cry as you hurt her testing her blood, but it had to be done to keep me alive. As my blood sugars where maintained at a good level I became a happy baby again, there are many photos of me in hospital as a baby tubes and needles entering my body from every direction yet still I had a smile on my face. After I came out of hospital the doctor that said I only had an ear infection was thankfully struck off and we moved house to make a brand new start.

As a young child I pretty much excepted that I was different, my mum would have to come to do my injection for me if I was at a friends house for tea, and every afternoon at school I would have an afternoon snack in the middle of class to keep my blood sugar stable. In fact I remember that many of the other kids where totally fascinated when my mum would do my injection, and where envious when they had to keep on with their school work while I sat back in my chair eating my malted milk biscuits. When asked to explain what diabetes was I used to say there is a machine in my belly that doesn't work to my injections do the work instead? I didn't really understand back then what diabetes was, or what would happen if I didn't have my injections, I just knew that I had to inject or something bad would happen and seeing as I was a very good girl I did what I was told. I never saw myself as very different because of the diabetes, I could still run around, I could still play, I felt well and because I was back then only on two injections a day people didn't really see my injections so unless anyone knew I was just a normal kid.