One morning in May last year, I had an appointment with a physician assistant to go over my lab results. It was routine; I've made countless visits like it in my 52 years with type 1 diabetes. My report was good, and I left the doctor's office to do some errands. I stopped at the library, grocery, and car wash before heading for home. But suddenly I couldn't remember how to get there. I drove for about 15 minutes, and then I started to get concerned. I searched for a safe place to pull over. I was sure I was having a stroke. In the doctor's waiting room, I had been reading about how diabetes increases one's stroke risk. Although I carry food and glucose tablets in the car, never once did I think I was hypoglycemic. My brain said stroke.
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