Diabetes Mellitus - sweet pee

The Greeks had a way of making even the simplest concepts complex. Diabetes mellitus, for example, simply means sweet pee. (A more literal translation would be urine with a honey taste, honey being what the ancient Greeks used as a sweetener centuries before sugar came to Europe.)

Of course, being diagnosed at the age of 13, my first question was about how a Greek doctor actually went about diagnosing the disease. The concept of a taste-test seemed so yuck! Apparently they used ants? Back then it wasn't as though they needed to do the test too often as the disease was always terminal. And with most diabetics dying prior to reproducing they were few, and far between.

If you've done any reading on the subject you know that there are two basic forms of the disease, with a bunch of different names.

There is my version, IDDM (insulin dependent diabetes mellitus) also known as Type 1, also known as juvenile onset diabetes. And then there is Type 2, also known as adult onset diabetes. In both cases the main symptom is the same: sweet pee. And that's about the only thing they have in common. It's a crazy setup.

In my case my pancreas stopped producing insulin in 1971. I have no insulin, so I inject some every few hours. But for the Type 2 folk, they're producing too much insulin and their bodies are not using it properly. They take drugs to improve the efficiency of their own insulin, as well as inject the occasional jolt of insulin when ants start to take too keen an interest in them. And all of us have to watch what we eat. (A lot more about that later.)

Type 1 folk typically have a genetic idiosyncrasy that kicks in while they're still young. Nobody quite knows why the Type 2 folk get their version, other than a strong link with obesity.

Anyhow, that's about all I will ever have to say about Type 2 diabetes because I am not one. I will stick to my area of experience. (Not expertise, because I am not remotely expert at managing this beast, yet!)

Insulin, I understand, was the subject of a batch of tests to see how useful it might be as a truth serum. Turns out that as your blood glucose dips towards the very lower end, you lose your sense of humour and develop a little paranoia. You especially start to get very, very anxious and at this point are prepared to tell lies about your grandma in exchange for some chocolate.

Frankly, my kids will do that at any time that a bar of chocolate is on offer, and maybe that's why the scientists eventually opted for sodium pentothal.