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Jake's Progress
Bus pass, keys, iPod, NovoRapid insulin pen...
The Observer, July 2007
In September 2006, something unusual started happening to my thirst. I was drinking more than I had ever done before, mostly water, and after one glass I wanted another. For a day or so I felt quite pleased; it was an involuntary detox, the sort of health regime I had always promised myself. But then the bathroom breaks became a bit of a drag, and I began to feel unwell. I felt lethargic, developed headaches, became hungry, started looking gaunt. Because I knew a little bit about these things, I thought I might have diabetes.
Things returned to normal after a few days and I put it to the back of my mind. In the next few weeks I felt healthy, but wondered about a health check. Like most men, I put this off. But then I had to have one for a new insurance policy, the usual half-hour in a private clinic near Harley Street, and I went in just as Russell Brand was coming out. I awaited the results with little anxiety - I had felt fine for months now - and when they came everything was fine. My blood sugar levels were within the normal range, as were my heart measurements and cholesterol.
A few weeks later, my 16-year-old son Jake began to fall ill. Initially I thought this might be stress from work - his AS Levels were approaching - but symptoms of tiredness were joined by other signs: thirst, frequent urination, increased appetite, weight loss, mood swings; again, the classic signs. He went to his GP, who took a urine sample and announced that everything looked normal. There was also a blood test, with results due in a week.
But during that week Jake's condition worsened. We went up the road for brunch one morning and he walked much more slowly than usual. We had to stop on the way for a rest, a worrying sign for my very active son who thrived on football, swimming and martial arts. When we sat down I noticed how pale he looked, and how the shape of his face had changed: his features were suddenly dramatically defined, and he told me that at school one friend had said to the whole class, 'Hey everybody, look at Jake's cheekbones.' We talked about what might be wrong. Both his mother and I had wondered whether he had taken any drugs, or whether he was depressed, and as Jake ordered two drinks with his food I mentioned the possibility of diabetes.
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