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After All These Years: Al Lewis, Age 73, Living with Type 1 Diabetes for 69 Years

Sunday, October 26th, 2008

From the book “50 Secrets of the Longest Living People With Diabetes”© 2007, by Sheri R. Colberg and Steven V. Edelman, to be published in November 2007. Appears by permission of the publisher, Marlowe & Company, an imprint of Avalon Publishing Company. Contact Dr. Colberg at www.shericolberg.com and Dr. Edelman at www.tcoyd.org.

Anyone who knows Al Lewis of Vancouver, BC, understands why he wouldn’t switch to an insulin pump until a waterproof model became available in 1977: His whole life has revolved around water.

By the time he was twelve years old, he was already fishing commercially off the coast of California. Despite having had type 1 diabetes since the age of four, he would be out at sea for days at a time, accompanied only by his fishing partner.

“I think it was harder on my parents than it was on me,” he reminisces. “My mom used to get up at 2:00 a.m. to make me breakfast before I would go out fishing, and she told me later that she would cry after I left.” He had just become a teenager when he earned a certificate from the United States Power Squadron for completing their small boat course, making him at that time the youngest person ever to be certified.

After a three-year foray into forestry at the start of college, Al found himself drawn to the study of oceanography instead (no big surprise there). He was on the swim team during both his undergraduate and his master’s degree studies, lettering at both levels. His PhD research at the University of Hawaii involved skin diving and some scuba diving. And until just recently, he swam competitively at the master’s level (defined as age 25 and older for swimming).

An emeritus professor of oceanography at the University of British Columbia, Al is convinced that his constant activity has played a large role in his diabetes longevity - close to 70 years already - and his lack of any major diabetes-related health problems.

Fear of complications is a driving motivation to take care of himself, though. “I think one secret of longevity with diabetes is to be very competitive with yourself,” he says, recalling that he was even more competitive with himself than he was with other swimmers over the years. “I think it’s key to being successful with diabetes.”

It’s clear that Al is a very dedicated swimmer. He once contacted a swimming outfitter in Portland, Oregon, to see if they could make a suit that could be worn in a swimming pool and hold an insulin pump (the waterproof kind, of course). He had been wearing a fanny pack with his pump inside - both for safety when he was out at sea as an oceanographer and while swimming. In the end, they couldn’t come up with anything for him, so he settled for swimming in a triathlete full-body suit with his insulin pump tucked inside.

Recent back problems have propelled Al out of the pool and into the gym for weight workouts, but he continues to commute to campus and back by bicycle. Given his lifetime of physical activity, it is highly unlikely that he will let anything stop him now, especially not a small thing like diabetes.

Story from: Diabetes Health

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Onward and Upward With Diabetes

Saturday, October 25th, 2008

Swaying in rhythm like drunk fans singing their team fight song, we campers bellowed our camp theme, clapping and banging on dining tables: “Shock, shock for Camp Firefly! We take the insulin - try not to cry!”

Camp Firefly for Juvenile Diabetics, located in Springmount, Pennsylvania, was our summer haven. Free from our overprotective parents, we played in the river, pulled pranks on staff, and shared our fears and funny stories of living with diabetes.

We were free as birds until it was time for our diabetes education classes, thick with deadening medical jargon. Listening to campers’ horrific testimonies, I became imprisoned by silence. I remember one girl telling us about being placed in foster care because her parents neglected her health. I remained friends with my fellow campers long after camp ended, returning with them every summer until we were old enough to become counselors.

Today, August 2, 2007, at 7:02 a.m., is the thirty-fifth anniversary of my diagnosis with type 1 diabetes at the old Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. I remember that foggy Monday morning so clearly, exactly what I wore and everything that was said. When I returned to the examining room after having left nearly a gallon of urine in the bathroom container, the doctor asked my mother, “Mrs. Gordon, have beverages been mysteriously disappearing from your refrigerator?” The list began: gallons daily of water, orange juice, milk, lemonade; even two entire cases of soda meant for the school fair.

Blurting that I had diabetes, the doctor summoned the nurse and told my mother to hold my arm as he drew blood. I was sure that my condition was only temporary. My favorite television show was Dr. Welby, and I credulously believed that doctors could cure anything. When the endocrinologist entered my hospital room, I faced the wall and refused to acknowledge him, hiccupping, sobbing, and wiping snot from my nose.

“Stop crying,” he told me sternly. “You’re acting like a child!” “But I am a child,” I sobbed. “And you’ve been taking blood since I arrived.” He apologized and tried to console me, but I heard only every other word: “There’s no cure, blah, blah, blah. I know you’re scared, but blah blah, blah.”

On the fourth day, the nurse demonstrated withdrawing insulin from two vials, stressing the importance of not contaminating one with the other. “What the hell!” I thought. “Why am I practicing injecting a navel orange when I could be eating it? I don’t know what to do, and I don’t care,” I was given a book about diabetes, edited for children. It was full of kids frolicking in the grass after learning that they had diabetes, and following protocol perfectly.

Walking the corridors as if I were a hotel concierge, I poked my nose into every new admission’s room. “What’s your name, and what brings you here?” Linda, age ten, had five older brothers with type 1 diabetes. While experimenting with their urine testing supplies, she had learned that she had diabetes too. As she told the story I panicked, returning to my room in tears. Linda and her brothers proved that diabetes was incurable. Even Dr. Welby verified it was incurable in an episode that aired during my second week in the hospital, featuring a child with symptoms like Linda’s and mine. During my remaining stay I refused to talk to anyone. I cried during arts & crafts, the magic act, and story time.

After I was released, a visiting nurse came every day for one week to monitor my health, diet, and mental state. That was during the “good old days,” when insurance gave you what you needed and did not rob you blind. As she and my mother talked, I hid behind the refrigerator, crying.

A diabetic guide traveled to school with me that September, along with a cigar box containing a syringe (without the needle, of course), a cotton ball, two empty vials of insulin, and other diabetic apparatus taped and arranged in order of importance. During my first class, my teacher asked, “And how did you spend your summer, Little Miss Gordon?” Showing him the box, I whispered in his ear. After he prepared the students for my presentation, I talked about being diagnosed with diabetes and how they could help me adjust.

The children were given literature, and a poster with illustrations of insulin reactions and high blood sugar symptoms was tacked to the door. The girls were happy because they hoped that they would be chosen to escort me to Nurse Chin’s office. When I visited her, she always seemed confused and asked me why I was there. A temperature was her only gauge for measuring illness.

After a year, I became lackadaisical. I still took my insulin, but neglected to test urine sugars and abandoned my diabetes paraphernalia. The night before every quarterly doctor’s visit, I stayed awake until three in the morning, creating three months’ worth of urine sugars. To make sure they were realistic, I logged a few 3 and 4+’s. I had to balance the ketoacidosis tests as well: mostly negatives and a few moderates. To top it off, I performed calisthenics, doing jumping jacks, jumping rope, and jogging in place in an attempt to lower my blood sugar before my check-up.

I appeared so zombie-like during my doctor visits that Dr. Baker asked my mother if I was getting ample rest. To my chagrin, he also told my mother that he believed I was creating fictitious urine and ketone tests. My behavior was not uncommon, he said, especially among female patients; male patients were apparently more honest when they failed to adhere. Dr. Baker told me that if I did not stop these shenanigans, I would be banned. He added that I was wasting my parents’ money and digging myself an early grave.

What harsh words for an eleven-year-old, I thought. But it was not out of character for Dr. Baker, who often took young diabetic patients on a hospital tour to impress upon them the consequences of neglected diabetes. He even coined a term, Frequent Flyers, to describe patients hospitalized two or more times per year due to personal negligence. Dr. Baker never dismissed me as a patient, though, and he didn’t put me into foster care either. And once I turned fourteen I began to understand the importance of managing diabetes.

This was the regimen: piss in a paper cup, measure five drops of urine and ten drops of water into a test tube, and then drop in a speckled blue pill that fizzed like Alka-Seltzer once it hit the concoction. Don’t dare touch the bottom of the tube; you might get burnt! Performing these test made me feel like a wizard in a lab, creating magic. Adding to the appeal was Dr. Baker’s handsome twenty-four-year-old assistant, Joe. Joe had type 1 diabetes as well, and he taught me the tricks of the trade. Once he arrived, Dr. Baker’s office became my after-school hang out. Having diabetes never felt so good, until Joe left for graduate school.

During the wee hours I would contact the glucose strip hotline to troubleshoot. Once my problems were solved, the operator and I would shoot the breeze for hours. Our topics ranged from being diagnosed, to relatives who had diabetes, to my quest to win free gifts. Each vial tab was worth points that you could trade in for prizes. “Okay, Monique, for twelve points you can get cotton balls, lancets, a diabetic fiction or nonfiction book, a cook book, or diabetic vitamins.” Stalling as if I were on “Let’s Make A Deal,” I would ask, “Can you repeat that?” “C’mon Monique, it’s 1:00 a.m. Shouldn’t you be in bed? Don’t you have school?” “Okay, okay, I’ll take the all-natural vitamins for nine points.” Two years later the point system was discontinued. My mother claimed that I called so often that I depleted the gift selection.

As technology progressed, injections became less painful. Home blood glucose monitor testing kits replaced urine tests, spelling the end, to my everlasting delight, of eye droppers and test tubes. Hemoglobin A1c tests appeared, and one insulin injection increased to multiple injections. Later, my multiple injections were replaced by the insulin pump. Sometimes I clip my pump to my attire’s waistband, or a thigh band if I want to conceal it under a skirt or dress. “Calling Agent 99!” my friends would jokingly say whenever I wore the leg band and operated the pump with my remote.

“Ms. G’s bugging the room! Everyone quiet! She has us under surveillance!” a student shouted as my pump tubing dangled while I reached to write an equation on the board. “She has a bomb - everybody duck!” another yelled. Amidst the laughter, I stopped to teach the students about insulin pumps, relating its functions to math, science, and nutrition. Students begin sharing tales about family members who had died or suffered from diabetic complications. “Don’t you hate carrying all that stuff?” one student questioned. “I would just have to die!” another shouted. Telling stories and sharing times when I felt like quitting brought my students to realize that some conditions make one stronger.

When I travel, I carry a black insulated medical case, 7″x 9″ x 2″, in my backpack. It holds glucose tablets, glucose gel, two syringes, alcohol swabs, one vial of insulin and an icepack, batteries, a glucose meter, strips, a log book, and pump supplies, not to mention the Medic Alert ID bracelet I wear in case I become ill and cannot communicate. Carrying the case invites the following responses: “Monique what the hell is in your backpack?” “Girrrrrl, your diabetes must be bad if you have to carry meds around.” “Do you always have to carry it? And so much? When do you carry a regular purse?” “Think about it,” I have to explain. A thief is more likely to steal a handbag than a backpack, so I save purses for special occasions. Being adherent means having control and knowing my blood sugar levels during the course of the day. If I didn’t carry this “stuff,” as people call it, and use it properly, I would be of no use to myself or anyone.

There was a period when I concealed my condition from dates, fearing they would run like the devil. But the number one “do” in the diabetic manual is “avoid unnecessary stress.” Now I refuse to make compromises just to make someone else feel comfortable. Usually, I have been the one to break the relationship because of my partner’s unhealthy lifestyle. One resumed smoking after my first insulin reaction, blaming his smoking addiction on that one episode. Another couldn’t understand why I didn’t prepare meals like his momma: full of fat, sugar, salt, and that poison red punch KoolAid. “Put your life insurance policy in my name and I’ll prepare any meal you desire,” I responded sarcastically.

“Oh, Monique, I don’t want you to die!” another one said. “Die!” I yelled into the phone, “With your lifestyle, I can have your grave prepared tomorrow!” After that comment, I was labeled insensitive.

I developed a sense of humor from having diabetes. Every day is an adventure. Although diabetes can be a nuisance, you can lead a somewhat normal life. My most comforting adventure was rescuing a two-year-old Chihuahua Rat Terrier. Endo Jesus Divo and I have a lot in common: a Napoleonic demeanor, a sense of humor, lots of energy, and many admirers. I prepare him home-cooked organic meals and bathe his paws after every walk, making me feel like Mary Magdalene. In return, he alerts me when I’m about to have an insulin reaction and wakens me at 3:00 am as a reminder to test my blood sugar:

I often meet newly diagnosed people and those who have struggled to manage their diabetes. Once I tried to advise a parent on the do’s and don’ts of soft drinks for her newly diagnosed daughter. As a result the mother arranged for us to meet. While I was discussing the ups and downs of diabetes, they both freaked and I was banned from ever communicating with the daughter again. Now, ten years later, the daughter and I are colleagues in the school system. After complimenting me on my appearance, she discussed her battle with diabetes and accused me of ignoring her plight because of what her mother did. “I’m afraid that I might scare you now, even though you’re thirty-four,” I responded. “I’d hate to have your mother threatening me again.”

I used to rate my health as “poor,” but my physician rates it as “excellent.” Having an illness does not mean you’re in poor health, I have learned. Examinations, mental state, and medical history are what count. People are free to do what they want, when they want. I choose to live.

“Shock, shock for Camp Firefly!
We take the insulin - try not to cry!
Take us campers for a swim
And don’t let a shocky camper in!
We never stumble! We never fall!
We sober up on orange juice all!
All us campers want to fight
Diabetes with all our might!
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!

Monique Gordon (Binky), a Philadelphia native, is a gifted poet, playwright, and performance artist.

Story from: Diabetes Health

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Living with Type 1 Diabetes for Over Eighty Years

Friday, October 24th, 2008

From the book “50 Secrets of the Longest Living People With Diabetes”© 2007, by Sheri R. Colberg and Steven V. Edelman, to be published in November 2007. Appears by permission of the publisher, Marlowe & Company, an imprint of Avalon Publishing Company. Contact Dr. Colberg at www.shericolberg.com and Dr. Edelman at www.tcoyd.org.

If ever there were a diabetic trailblazer, the honor should go to James William Quander, the longest-living African-American with type 1 diabetes on record. Born in 1918 in Washington, D.C., he was diagnosed with diabetes in early 1924, shortly before the age of six.

At the time of his diagnosis, there were few specialists available to treat diabetes and even fewer with admitting privileges at Children’s Hospital, the local pediatric hospital. As a result, young James was usually the only juvenile patient at Freedman’s Hospital (now called Howard University Hospital), the local adult hospital founded in 1863 to care for freed slaves and their descendants. There his doctor, also African-American, could care for him under the segregation laws in place during those years.

According to the doctors at the time, young James was supposed to be dead by the age of ten. His parents, however, chose not to pass on that expectation to their son. Instead, they told him that he had a very serious illness that he would have to work hard to manage, and they did all they could to give him the same quality of life as his four siblings.

Given the racial segregation of Washington, D.C., from the time of his diagnosis through the 1940s (and beyond), James repeatedly dealt with double discrimination. His race kept him from gaining higher-paying jobs, and his diabetes, viewed at the time as a potentially contagious disease, led many of his peers to shun him.

He applied for a position with the FBI but was told that because of his skin color, he qualified only to work for the postal service. Despite his start at a lowly postal worker job, he went on to work for the federal government for 33 years as an economist, statistician, computer programmer, and manpower labor specialist.

In another trailblazing moment, James married his wife, Joherra Rohulamin Quander, despite the fact that her family came from East Asian/European roots. At the time, during the 1940s, society was almost completely segregated.

Nevertheless, James announced, “I didn’t pick my family, but I plan to pick my wife.” She bore him three boys and one girl, none of whom has diabetes. (His ten grandchildren and two great-grandchildren are also diabetes-free.) They remained married until her death nearly sixty years later.

For the most part James chose to keep his diabetes a secret, not publicly coming out of the “diabetes closet” until he was in his fifties. By that time, during the 1970s, most people had come to realize that diabetes was not a communicable condition.

In 1971, James was ordained as one of the first Permanent Deacons in the Roman Catholic Church. On a trip to Rome in 1975, he served as sole assistant to Pope Paul VI in celebrating a daily mass.

James lived by five simple words: faith, hope, love, perseverance, and discipline. For him, “faith” meant his own faith in God and in himself. As for “hope,” he always maintained the hope that diabetes would be cured in his lifetime. In his later years, when it was apparent that a cure was unlikely for him, he put his energy into managing his blood sugars and teaching others to do the same.

“Love” meant the love given to and received from his family and friends, which sustained him when his disease was most troublesome. “Perseverance” helped him live life to the fullest in spite of having diabetes. Finally, “discipline” topped the list as the most important quality; he was undeniably disciplined in caring for his disease for over eight decades.

During his later years, James traced the history of the Quander family clear back to 1684. Originating in Ghana, a branch of his family had been slaves owned by George Washington (freed by Martha as decreed in the president’s will), while others had been freed shortly after their arrival in America. Late in James’ life, he and his oldest son, Judge Rohulamin Quander, set out to document his remarkable story.

Together they wrote a book, published in 2006, called The Quander Quality: The True Story of a Black Trailblazing Diabetic (www.TheQuanderQuality.com). James insisted that after his death, his son donate half of the book’s proceeds to Howard University College of Medicine. His is a story that will inspire people for many years to come.

Story from: Diabetes Health

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Chip Sullivan

Thursday, October 23rd, 2008

Chip Sullivan is a golf pro. This June he played his best game ever, beating the top club professionals in the country and qualifying for the fourth time to play against the likes of Tiger Woods in the PGA championship tour.

The victory was particularly sweet because it had so recently seemed out of reach: Around Christmas of last year, Chip was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and hemochromatosis, a potentially deadly disease of iron overload.

Chip’s sister had died of liver failure caused by hemochromatosis in 2004, at the age of 44. She’d been diagnosed with both type 2 diabetes and hemochromatosis only about a year before her death, and by that time years of organ damage had already been done.

In spite of the fact that hemochromatosis is an inherited disease that’s especially common in the Irish, Chip didn’t suspect that he was at risk. He was slender and fit, and he believed himself to be healthy.

He’d been feeling very tired for a long time, though, and in December 2006 he decided to ask his doctor what was going on. A blood test was done, and his blood glucose level came back at 368 mg/dl. When he mentioned the family history of hemochromatosis, a ferritin test was also carried out, and that was sky high as well.

In retrospect, Chip believes that he probably had both type 2 diabetes and hemochromatosis for years. But once he finally had his diagnoses pinned down, he went all out to fix them.

For three months, he underwent two phlebotomies (blood-lettings) a week to empty out iron from his system. A pint of blood was removed each time, until his ferritin level dropped from 1129 to 7.4 ng.ml. Now he’s on a maintenance schedule, having a phlebotomy every month or so to keep his iron levels within a normal range.

To combat his diabetes, Chip was put on insulin. First he tried Exubera, but inhaling insulin didn’t work for him because he kept going low. Next he was put on Lantus and Novolog, but he wasn’t too happy with that either, and the carb counting threw him for a loop.

When he found out that many people with type 2 take pills instead of insulin, he changed doctors. Now he manages very well on one morning shot of Lantus, 1500 mg of Janumet, and a diet that excludes soft drinks, pasta, or potatoes.

After Chip was first diagnosed, he called his older sister in Alaska and told her to go get tested. She turned out to have borderline hemochromatosis and type 2 diabetes as well, so now she’s getting phlebotomies too.

Chip believes that his grandparents may have died of undiagnosed hemochromatosis, and he worries about the future of his three children. But their pediatrician advises against having them genetically tested, for fear that insurance companies will refuse to insure them when they reach adulthood. The disease generally doesn’t surface until middle age, so Chip is still debating whether or not to have them tested.

Chip is confident that he has his diseases well under control now. He fully intends to see his children grow up, and he sees the future as very bright. “I don’t feel like 42 is that old, ” he says. “I have my best years of golf ahead of me.”

Story from: Diabetes Health

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American Idol’s Elliott Yamin Brings Diabetes Message to Millions

Monday, October 20th, 2008

Elliott performs his latest hit, “Movin’ On,” at the World Diabetes Day celebration in Manhattan.

It has been rags to riches for singer Elliott Yamin. With his naturally soulful singing voice, listeners feel his raw emotion and they like it. When you hear him, you know immediately that few guys in any musical genre sing with this kind of authenticity.

There’s also an innocence about him. Watching Yamin grow from nobody to somebody, while carrying his diabetes proudly, has inspired diabetics everywhere.

In a true Cinderella story, Yamin went from being a pharmacy clerk in early 2006 to international singing sensation in a matter of months. His singing talent was recognized when viewers voted him to (almost) the top spot on the television show American Idol. Though he came in third, he has since gone on to eclipse the first- and second-place winners, and is being touted as perhaps one of the greatest of a new generation of male singers.

Yamin faced a huge challenge in wooing the judges to pick him to from among the tens of thousands of other contestants who turned out to audition for American Idol. Although he was shy, the judges quickly saw a very friendly and easygoing 28-year-old with a sultry, smooth voice well suited to the genres of rock, pop, soul, R&B and jazz.

Yamin had sung karaoke as a teen, which was how he had discovered his own talent. The untrained youth began singing in local bands and in amateur venues, and his influences came to include the likes of Whitney Houston, Stevie Wonder, Tony Bennett and Ray Charles. While working as a pharmacy clerk, he left his job to audition for American Idol on the advice of his friends, but he had little idea of where he was really heading.

Diagnosed With Diabetes

Yamin was not a stranger to facing great challenges. The Richmond, Va, local was diagnosed with diabetes at 16 - just two years after his parents divorced.

“I just knew I wasn’t feeling right,” Yamin says. “It was about a two-and-a-half week period leading up to my diagnosis that I was just feeling totally run down and lethargic. I was urinating every hour, I was always thirsty, my breath was really stinky, all of my joints would constantly ache, my mouth was dry. I just didn’t know what was going on with me.”

Yamin told his mother of his symptoms on a Sunday night.

“She has type 2 diabetes and she recognized the symptoms,” he explains. “She got her meter right away. She tested me at 860 mg/dl and she became frantic and called the physician.”

The family lived in a convenient location right behind the hospital, he said. “We went to the emergency room and I ended up spending four days in the hospital.”

The news did not sit well with Yamin. Like most teenagers he enjoyed hanging out with his friends, cruising in cars, dating girls and living a normal life. He did not want to take multiple insulin injections and finger sticks daily for blood glucose readings.

“I was very angry,” he says of the time following his diagnosis. “I was in denial. I didn’t want to believe I had the disease. I kept wondering, ‘how did I go from being an average kid without too many worries or concerns to having this incurable lifelong  disease?’”

The reaction to his diagnosis, along with normal teenage defiance, spelled out disaster for his diabetes control.

“I got really rebellious. I didn’t want to take my insulin and I didn’t want to believe I actually had diabetes,” he says. “I was pissed. I thought the future was grim and I wouldn’t be able to do the things I always wanted to do.”

It wasn’t long before he realized he needed to take control of his condition in order to feel good and have energy.

“I learned very abruptly when I was diagnosed that I had to get a grip on my diabetes or I wouldn’t live very long,” says Yamin, who made several trips to the emergency room before taking better control of his diabetes.

After five years of taking multiple daily injections Yamin started using an insulin pump at 21.

“I think once I got on the pump it really changed my view on diabetes and on how I could take care of myself,” he says. “I love it.”

Friends Spur Him on to Idol

It was the urging of his friends that prompted Yamin to audition for American Idol, singing Leon Russell’s “A Song for You.” Although the audition never hit the air, the judges moved him forward to the finals based on his obvious talent. American Idol judge Simon Cowell is quoted as having called Yamin “potentially the best male vocalist ever” on the show. After Yamin performed “A Song for You,” Cowell said his performance was the equivalent of someone teaching a “vocal master class.”

Yamin left the show following one of its tightest races - each of three top contestants earned nearly the same percentage score from viewers. Though he only came in third, the show earned Yamin the recognition he deserved. Soon came a recording contract with Hickory Records and talk show appearances that included the Tonight Show, Live with Regis and Kelly, and the Fox News Channel. Since then, his self-titled debut, “Yamin,” has turned gold with a single (”Wait for You”) that has made number 20 on the Billboard Top 100.

When he’s not on the road touring or promoting a show, Yamin says he tries to eat healthy foods in addition to testing his blood glucose often, although it’s not easy. “I try eating a lot of salads and stay away from fried stuff ,” he says. “It’s not really a set diet every day. I certainly have more access to better foods when I’m at home. I’m trying to increase my protein intake level. I want to try to put on some muscle.”

Romance

When it comes to muscle and his physical appearance, Yamin says he is pretty secure now - but it wasn’t always that way. He says that having an insulin pump hasn’t harmed his love life.

“Diabetes doesn’t affect my relationships with women at all. I was a little apprehensive about taking my shirt off around girls at first,” he says. “It’s awkward looking to have a third nipple on your stomach - the infusion set for my pump - and it’s hard for people to get their minds around that it’s something I’m always going to have.

“Everybody has supported it. The only thing that kind of sucks is that I can’t really sit in the hot tub too long because the adhesive around my pump site gets really soggy. One of the disadvantages is the heat wears it off. If there is a hot tub backstage after a show I can’t partake, or, at least not for very long.”

Regimen on the Road

The ideal daily regimen for optimal control is not easy on the road, says Yamin, who has been traveling at least seven months out of the past year.

“No matter how busy my schedule gets, I still test around three or four times a day,” he says. “Beyond that, I just test as much as possible and adjust my pump according to what I’m eating. I count carbohydrates and try to watch what I eat.”

It’s very important to have good blood glucose control before going on stage, says Yamin, who tests with his meter before and after going on stage. Hypoglycemia on stage could mean devastating effects on a performance - and not just because of the low blood glucose level, but also because it’s hard to get up fast in front of a waiting audience.

“I like to be around 160 mg/dl before I go on, and a lot of times when I come off it’s higher because of the level of good stress, or adrenaline, and anxiety,” he says.

One time this was not the case.

“Just a few months ago we were in Vancouver and I was doing a show there and I stepped on stage, opened up with the first song and I felt my blood glucose dipping down pretty low,” Yamin explains of the incident. “I asked somebody to go grab me a couple of Pepsis and I finished the first song. But, between the first two songs I sucked both of them down pretty quick. I had to correct my blood glucose fast.”

He explained to his audience what was going on at that point - openness about his diabetes with his fans has always been a strength for Yamin, from his first American Idol performance when he was very clear with the judges about his disease.

The problem came once he was done drinking.

“I drank the two Pepsis very fast. You don’t really want to drink carbonated beverages on stage,” he says. “It was hard not to burp on stage after that. It was ugly, man. It was just ugly. I kept having to pull away from the mike to burp.”

Hypoglycemic episodes are not common for Yamin on stage.

“I notice my blood glucose level gets higher on the road,” he says. “I’ve been on the road maybe a total of seven months, adding everything up on three tours.”

There isn’t always time on the road to do the exercise he would like to.

“I go to bed around 4 or 5 in the morning and wake up early to do morning radio shows, do sound checks, meet and greets on the shows,” Yamin explains of his days on tour. “I do everything I can to promote every show in every town I go to. My time is very limited. I’m very busy - the first single has just been very busy and very taxing.”

Yamin says although his most recent hemoglobin A1c was 8, he has plans to get his diabetes in tighter control, he advocates a healthy lifestyle and he knows his results would be more favorable if he were not traveling from city to city, riding the tour bus and airplanes constantly.

Diabetes Blues

Even celebrities surrounded by constant fan attention, wealth, and almost nonstop social and stage appearances can find themselves getting down about their diabetes - and Yamin is no exception. He has certainly handled a great deal if adversity in his life, including a 90 percent hearing loss in his right ear - but sometimes depression over his diabetes still gets to him.

“I’ve been down and out before. I’ve had the diabetes blues,” he says. “You know, I think it happens to the best of us.”

Yamin says when he feels down, it’s important to consider all things - not just the challenges of having to deal with diabetes. He tries to count his blessings and realize how things could be worse.

“I just try to realize how lucky I am,” he says. “I try to take a step back and reflect on all the blessings that I have, especially over the past couple of years with living out my dream and being a sort of Cinderella story - it really helped change my perspective on how I cope with diabetes.”

He often takes advantage of his newfound stardom to help others who may be feeling blue.

“It’s important to me to inspire others and advocate to help find a cure,” says Yamin. “Hey, diabetes sucks, man. But don’t let diabetes control you. It’s very important to test your blood glucose as often as possible. Also, let people around you help you and never lose sight of your goal - no matter what kind of disease or adversity you face.”

Yamin encourages others to join in the fight as well: “Take initiative to help find a cure, and the better off we will all be in the long run.”

Nobody But You

Yamin learned as a teen that he was the only one who could best take care of his diabetes. His body would tell him if he was testing and controlling his blood glucose well enough. There were many times he woke up in the emergency room at the hospital. It was watching his mother, his own idol, cry when he woke there once that sparked him to take better control of his diabetes.

“Now I know that sometimes you just have to face the music, no pun intended. You have to take care of yourself because in the long run it’s only you that can do that. No one else can nurse your health the way that you can.”

Yamin’s Advice To Diabetes Health Readers

Overall, Yamin says his diabetes has been a sort of blessing in disguise.

“I think it has really made me stronger,” he says. “It doesn’t affect how I sing or how I perform. I carry a card in my wallet that says I’m type 1 and insulin-dependent.”

Yamin says his diabetes is a strong part of what makes him who he is and it shows up in his writing, such as in songs about how nothing is impossible, where he encourages listeners to achieve their goals. Yamin is just as passionate about finding a cure for diabetes as he is about singing. He is now sponsored by Eli Lilly and he has also done a great deal of work for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

“Young people should just continue going for their dreams,” he says. “Don’t let diabetes stop you. I go out there and sing hard and give it my all, and am passionate and try to convey that passion on stage. It’s my job. It’s what I’m supposed to do - and it’s the best job in the world. I really come alive on that stage. I love it - it’s where I belong.”

Elliott and Me
By Miriam E. Tucker

This photo of Elliott Yamin and me was taken on May 17, 2007 in the parking lot of the Birchmere music venue in Alexandria Va, after the opening kick-off show of his first U.S. tour. He was soulful and superb…and so was his band!

When I first saw Elliott compete on American Idol, I thought he was adorable and obviously a talented singer. When I found out he had type 1 diabetes just like me, I picked up the phone and started voting! He ended up in third place, but that’s okay. Since then, he has proven himself a winner in so many ways.

Watching Elliott perform in person, I was struck by how happy he seemed to be, loving what he’s doing and clearly grateful for the opportunity. He smiles while he sings, and you smile back. He opens up and invites you in. His concert felt like a big group hug.

Afterwards, I was among 50 or so people who hung around, hoping to say hi and maybe get a quick pic. I was thrilled when, after the crowd had cleared a bit, Elliott and I actually ended up chatting for several minutes about living with diabetes!

Calm and Attentive

He seems to be very calm about his diabetes, yet not in a blasé kind of way. He obviously works at controlling it - by wearing an insulin pump - but doesn’t let it control him. He clearly doesn’t see himself as a victim. I doubt you’ll hear him complaining about the injustice of the disease. I got the impression that he views diabetes as just another of life’s challenges to overcome, along with his partial deafness, his parents’ divorce and the scathing comments of surly Idol judge Simon Cowell.

I think Elliott Yamin is an ideal example for kids who are dealing with all the emotional and physical hassles of living with diabetes. When I was diagnosed back in 1973, Mary Tyler Moore was my only role model. She was great, but of another generation. Elliott is young, like many of his fans. A kid with diabetes can look to him and relate.

But Elliott’s mature style appeals to us older folks, too. In fact, while waiting out back after his show, I met a couple in their early 50’s who were also hoping to meet him. (The husband, a D.C. lawyer, is the one who took this photo with my cell phone.)

An Inspiration to Me

And I’m 43, a bit beyond the American Idol target audience. Yet, when I began considering insulin pump therapy later in 2007, Elliott was one of the reasons I finally decided to go for it. I mean, look how cool and successful he is. Maybe I can be like that, too! Of course, neither wearing a pump nor having diabetes guarantee coolness or success. But as Elliott Yamin is proving, they sure don’t get in the way!

An Elliot Yamin Timeline

  • July 20, 1978 - Born Efraym Elliott Yamin in Los Angeles.
  • 1989 - Moves with his family to Richmond, Va.
  • 1992 - Elliott’s parents divorce. His father returns to Los Angeles.
  • 1993 - Elliott drops out of high school in his sophomore year. He later earns a GED.
  • 1994 - Elliott is diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.
  • Late 1990s - Elliott begins discovering his vocal talents singing karaoke, and performing in a jazz band and amateur performances.
  • 1995 through 2005 - Elliott works at more than 40 odd jobs, including shoe store clerk, radio DJ, bill collector and truck scale adjuster. He is working at a pharmacy bagging prescriptions when friends urge him to try out for the fifth season of American Idol. He auditions with 19,000 other Idol wannabes in Boston and is sent through. (His audition tape is not shown in the build-up to the actual competition.)
  • January 17, 2006 - The fifth season of American Idol debuts Fox Network.
  • May 17, 2006 - In what producers said was an incredibly close vote, Elliott is bumped off American Idol, taking a final third-place position.
  • Rest of 2006 - Appearances on the Tonight Show, Live with Regis and Kelly, and Dayside; nationwide tour with American Idols LIVE! Tour 2006; signs music publishing contract with Sony/ATV Music Publishing.
  • January 25, 2007 - Signs record deal with Hickory Records.
  • March 13, 2007 - Releases first radio single, “Wait for You, ” from his soon-to-be-debuted “Movin’ On” album.
  • March 20, 2007 - Releases “Movin’ On” and appears on Live With Regis and Kelly, The Ellen Degeneres Show, Rachel Ray, Jimmy Kimmel Live and TRL to promote it. The album debuts at number three on the Billboard 200 chart, selling 96,000 copies in its first week.
  • May 17, 2007 - Starts national tour in Alexandria, Va., that ends in Anaheim, Calif., on June 21.
  • July 4, 2007 - Performs in Washington, D.C., at “A Capitol Fourth” on PBS, the nation’s biggest 4th of July celebration.
  • August/September 2007 - Appears on “The Bold and the Beautiful” soap opera; appears on the TV drama “Lincoln Heights” singing “Wait for You.” Visits Capitol Hill as International Celebrity Advocate Co-chair of the Promise to Remember Me Campaign to petition congressmen to extend federal funding for type 1 diabetes research.
  • October/November 2007 - Kicks off second national tour in Chicago that ends Washington, D.C.
  • November 14, 2007 - Performs “Promise to Remember Me” in the United Nations’ Rose Garden in New York City on World Diabetes Day. Diabetes Health TV captures him performing his hit, “Movin’ On,” that day.

Ends 2007 ranked at number three on the Top Independent Albums chart and at number 114 on The Billboard 200 chart. “Wait for You” ends up ranking at number 11 on the Pop 100 Airplay chart and at number 41 on the Billboard Hot 100 Songs chart.

Story from: Diabetes Health

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