Monogenic Diabetes: Unlike the Other Types

It was the statistic that impelled me to learn more information:

“Approximately 1 in 50 people with diabetes have monogenic diabetes.”

Mono-what?

I was staring at the giant banner bearing this statistic in the exhibition hall of the Friends for Life Falls Church conference. I read it a few times before I finally walked over to the table at which two women were seated. One of the women was an associate professor at the University of Maryland School of Medicine and a human geneticist. The other woman was a typical T1D for several decades of her life before she received a proper diagnosis of monogenic diabetes. Ever since that revelation rocked her world, she’d gone off insulin and took sulfonylureas (a type of drug that stimulates the pancreas to release insulin) to maintain healthy blood sugar levels.

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Just how many types of diabetes are on the spectrum (hence, the rainbow color theme)?

Naturally, the whole concept was simultaneously foreign and fascinating to me. I wanted to know more.

As I discovered that evening, monogenic diabetes is best explained by its name. “Mono”, of course, meaning “one”, and “genic” meaning “relating to genes”. Therefore, it’s a type of diabetes that is caused by changes in a single gene.

Here are some “fast facts” that I learned about monogenic diabetes:

  • Most cases of it are misdiagnosed as type 1 or type 2 diabetes
  • Proper diagnosis of monogenic diabetes sometimes changes treatment from taking insulin to a pill, or no medications at all
  • There is an emerging clinical spectrum when it comes to genetic testing for diabetes. At the time of this writing, the following situations are when it’s recommended to undergo a genetic test to determine whether an individual has monogenic diabetes:
    • The individual received a diabetes diagnosis within the first 6 months of life
    • The individual’s diabetes does not follow typical characteristics of type 1 or type 2 diabetes – this might mean that the individual is non-obese or has a strong family history of diabetes
    • The individual has a stable fasting blood glucose between 100 and 150 mg/dL
  • From the pamphlet I picked up that featured stories from individuals with monogenic diabetes: “I was 21, taking metformin and aspirin daily and sitting in a type 2 diabetes class with three much older participants. Despite dropping my BMI from 26 to 23 my A1c had risen to 6.4%, not a high number, but certainly one worth watching. I knew of no one else in my family with diabetes. Eventually I did get that dreaded diagnosis, and because it didn’t seem to be type 1, they said it was type 2. Fast forward 2 years and my sister now had ‘GDM,’ (gestational diabetes mellitus) twice, my dad finally admitted to having ‘borderline sugars’ since he was in college, and I got my genetic results back saying I had GCK-MODY (GCK being a gene that can have a variant that triggers monogenic diabetes, MODY being maturity onset diabetes of the young). It changed everything: gone were the pills, gone was the restrictive diet and exercise plan, and when my son was born with high blood sugars, we did nothing, because he was like me, and there is nothing that needed doing.”

Now, if YOU are like ME, all of that might read like some mumbo-jumbo. It took a few weeks of me reflecting on it to decide whether I should even write this post, because I feared that it might cause some people to be paranoid about whether or not they were misdiagnosed with their diabetes (I admit that I was worried about that for myself in the days after learning about monogenic diabetes).

But the big takeaway here that I thought should be captured in a blog post is that it’s important for patients to advocate for themselves when things just don’t add up. There were a few more stories from individuals with monogenic diabetes in the pamphlet I got, and there was a recurring theme in all of them: Doctors kept telling these patients that their diabetes was atypical, but it wasn’t until these patients sought genetic counseling that they began to understand why.

It goes back to what I said at the beginning of this blog post: I find this variant of diabetes to be intriguing. It makes me wonder whether we should continue to define diabetes in such a black-and-white manner (either you have type 1 or type 2). I’m curious if diabetes is more of a spectrum of diseases that present similar symptoms, but require different levels of treatment and management. It’s certainly interesting food for thought, and considering that diabetes continues to be a semi-mystifying condition to many researchers and doctors, it won’t surprise me if future studies eventually uncover more types of diabetes.

Anyways, enough of my musings on genetic testing and speculations on how many types of diabetes are really out there. If you’d like to know more about monogenic diabetes, I was guided to several different resources. Check them out below:

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My Diabetes Woke Up When September Ended

Apparently my diabetes has a theme song.

“Wake Me Up When September Ends” by Green Day is the song in question.

The entire month of September, I felt like my diabetes was asleep or something: It didn’t respond the way it should have to my regular dosages of insulin. 

It was truly maddening. I did everything I could to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Why You Should Get a Flu Shot (If You Haven't Gotten One Already) (1)
It’s like my diabetes had it penciled in on its own calendar to get its act together starting on October 1st. 

I thought it was rotten insulin. Nope. I thought it was maybe a bad batch of pods. Nah. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me (well, yes, I’m definitely a weirdo but for real, there was nothing out of the ordinary going on).

I thought I was going to go nuts, trying to get to the root of the problem and coming up with potential causes only for each one of them to be shot down.

I was not happy to be taking higher doses of insulin than needed, and I wanted answers. Luckily for me, I had an appointment scheduled with my endocrinologist (my last one with her, for now, I hope) at the end of the month, so you can bet it was a major topic of conversation.

We came up with a plan for me to resume Metformin. I didn’t really want to, and there’s certainly more on my feelings about that to come in a future post, but I was desperate to reduce my daily insulin intake and find some sort of stability in my CGM graphs between meals.

So I started Metformin…again. And the difference was noticeable within days.

My diabetes woke up to the insulin doses I was taking, and I felt such an immense relief that I can’t really even describe.

Oh, and you’re welcome for getting that Green Day song stuck in your head.

 

The Curious Case of Rotten Insulin

I spent half of the month of August high.

NOT THAT KIND OF HIGH.

I’m talking about blood sugar here, people.

And I’m not talking about scary-high levels. I’m just referring to levels that are higher than I’d like – between 160 and 200. And I’d stay stuck right in that range, even after bolusing quite aggressively.

I chalked it up to stress – life has been a little unkind to me this summer. I also blamed it on making less-than-healthy food choices, and questioned whether I needed to seriously start thinking about taking Metformin again (even though I had a shitty experience on it).

In other words, I took the brunt of responsibility for my highs. I was angry with myself for letting my diabetes get out of my control, and was just starting to accept responsibility when it hit me that it might be something other than my body rebelling against me at play here.

As it turns out, I should’ve suspected an outside factor from the beginning. That’s because my insulin had, somehow, gone bad.

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The vial in question…it caused me a boatload of stress.

I’m still very confused about how or why it happened. My insulin had an expiration date that was like, 2 years from now. The contents within the vial were totally clear – discoloration would’ve indicated an issue – and everything about this vial of insulin looked completely fine.

It was, and still is, an utter mystery to me as to how or why the insulin spoiled.

If nothing else, the case of the rotten insulin made me wonder…why hasn’t anyone developed strips that can check the effectiveness of insulin yet?

Can somebody please get on that (and give me partial credit for helping to spark this genius idea)?

When Diabetes Isn’t Responsible for an ER Trip

If something unexpected happens to me in terms of my health, I can almost always safely blame diabetes for causing whatever it may be. But when I absolutely, definitely cannot blame my diabetes, I can’t help but feel angry at my body for rebelling at me in ways that it shouldn’t. Particularly when those ways end up with me making a trip to the emergency room.

Let me set the scene: It was a Tuesday evening, around 7:45 P.M. My partner and I were watching an episode of Stranger Things (we’re not caught up yet so please, don’t spoil it for me). Suddenly, I felt an itch on my upper left arm. Like anyone would, I scratched it. But then it got more intense. Like, really, seriously itchy. I rolled up my sleeve so I would be able to scratch with greater ease, and was surprised to feel some bumps emerging on the itchy patch of skin.

I peeled off my sweater and stepped into better lighting in the bathroom so I could examine the area better. There was a large patch of red, inflamed skin on my arm that was covered with bumps that looked like hives. I was dumbfounded. Unsure of what triggered the hives, but alarmed by how swollen and irritated my arm looked, I shot a couple text messages to my EMT father and nurse best friend, who both advised me to get my arm looked at stat.

HUGGING THE CACTUS - A T1D BLOG
Stranger things have happened in my life with diabetes (just had to sneak a pun in there)

And that’s how I found myself in a crowded emergency room, tearful and furious at my body, on a random weeknight. Part of me was relieved that my diabetes didn’t seem to have anything to do with this (but see my recent post on Metformin and you’ll understand that I have some theories about that being the cause). But the other part of me was so pissed off that my body just couldn’t be normal for once. I felt that my body was lashing out at me like an unruly child, declaring its anger towards me in the form of an incredibly itchy, ugly rash. I couldn’t help but stew over the whole situation the entire time I waited to see a doctor.

Long story short, a dose of Benadryl cleared up the hives within an hour. The doctor was unable to determine a cause, since I couldn’t think of anything new introduced to my diet or any new scents/lotions/detergents used in my household. And insect bites got ruled out because the doctor was certain that a bite would be more localized and not spread in a giant patch on my arm. I’m still perplexed at how it happened, but I guess I just have to make peace with the fact that it did and be grateful for 1) making a total recovery from it and 2) not experiencing any issues with my blood sugars as a result of it.

When diabetes isn’t responsible for an ER trip, it means that it’s okay to still be upset about it, but also glad for not having to explain the intricacies of diabetes to every doctor and nurse that walks into the room…because I can’t think of a single PWD that would ever feel happy about taking on that happy task.

Should I Have Called 911?

Unintentionally, I set a personal record the other day. I experienced my lowest low blood sugar – 34 mg/dL. I was alone. And it was terrifying.

Around 1 A.M., I woke up to my CGM buzzing and alerting me to what I presumed was a mild low blood sugar. I definitely felt like I was low, so I quickly ate three glucose tablets without checking and confirming my low on my blood glucose meter. And soon after that, things got really weird.

I tossed and turned for 15 minutes as I tried to fall back asleep. But I just couldn’t get comfortable. To make matters worse, a bizarre, numb sensation invaded my left arm. As I became more and more aware of it, my breathing started to run a bit ragged – almost like I was having a panic attack. Between the breathing and the numbness, I knew something was very wrong.

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What would you have done in this situation?

So I bolted upright in bed and grabbed my meter and kit to do a blood sugar check. And that’s when the number 34 popped up on the screen. I swore out loud, and almost immediately began sweating profusely. As beads formed around my hairline and streams trickled down my back, I reached for my bottle of glucose tablets as well as my phone. I ate three more tablets – wondering why the three I’d eaten 15 or so minutes ago seemed to have no affect – and contemplated dialing 911. After all, I was completely alone and there was no telling whether I’d pass out or need assistance from someone. In that moment in time, I craved talking to someone, anyone, who might be able to stay on the phone with me while I waited for my blood sugar to come back up.

Like a complete idiot, though, I decided not to call 911 and instead took to Twitter…*insert face palm here*. I know what you’re thinking, why the eff did I do that? Two reasons: 1) I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly and 2) I knew that someone, somewhere, within my diabetes online community would be awake and possibly willing to talk to me.

Thank goodness my intuition was right…my sweet friend, Heather, who I had the pleasure of meeting IRL five years ago, responded to my tweet a few minutes after I posted it. She offered to call, but by this point in time, I had made it downstairs and into the kitchen just fine and was helping myself to a cupcake I’d baked earlier in the day (oh, how convenient my passion for baking can be…sometimes). I exchanged a few tweets with her back and forth, and before I knew it, 45 minutes passed from the onset of my scary low blood sugar symptoms. I ambled back upstairs to my bed and checked my blood sugar before getting settled back into it. I was surprised to see I was only 72; after all, I’d consumed about 50 grams of carbohydrates in the last hour, and for me, that’s a lot! Most of my meals don’t even contain that many carbs!

Bemused and exhausted, I slumped against my bed frame and distracted myself by scrolling aimlessly through social media channels. My body and my mind craved rest. Much to the relief of both, I was able to get it before long, once I got confirmation from my CGM and my meter that I was finally above the 100 mark. I knew that I’d likely go up much higher (and I certainly did, waking up at 289 the next morning), but at the time, I just didn’t care. All that mattered was that I was going to be okay.

I’ve been reflecting on the incident on and off the last few days. I’m trying to process what happened and how it happened – was it my new Metformin that triggered it? Was it stress that I had experienced earlier in the day manifesting itself? I drank one beer before I went to bed, could that have done it? Did I take too much insulin before bed, even though I was certain I hadn’t? Lord knows that it could’ve been any combination of those factors, or none of them…but I can tell you this: I haven’t taken Metformin since it happened out of fear. I’ll talk to my endocrinologist soon and revisit my dosing plan with her. I can also tell you that, even as I continue to process the entire ordeal, I’m feeling so lucky that I was lucid enough to take proper care of myself. I know there are many other T1Ds who can’t say the same and have experienced much more awful low blood sugar incidents, so I’m simply counting my blessings right now.

What would you have done, had you been in my shoes? Would you have called 911, a family member, a friend? Would you have waited it out?