My Story as a Personal Care Aid
and a Diabetic
by Carolyn Samuels







I was born in Pomona, California, raised in Elizabeth City, North Carolina and then back in California again. My parents were Janet and Dick Reed, and due to my fathers work we moved fairly regularly when I was young.



In 1976, when I was ten years old, my younger brother, sister and I all came down with flu-like symptoms. Since neither of my parents was the type to panic and take a child to the hospital for what they felt were everyday childhood illnesses and injuries, my mother took care of us at home. Within a week, my siblings were outside playing again while I fought to keep even saltine crackers down due to weakness and nausea. I had cut my hand three weeks previously, and not only was it not healing, it was looking like a very serious infection. When my mother finally did take me to the hospital, the doctor found the cut had become gangrenous; and in addition they diagnosed me as having diabetes, the likely reason the cut would not heal. I was in the hospital for 25 days. When I was finally well enough to be taken off the IV but still confined to the hospital, I passed the time by delivering meals to other patients in the pediatric wing. It was the first sign that I would find happiness in a career as a caregiver, which is my vocation today.



In 1985 at the age of 18 I took a job as a nurse's aide in a home for the developmentally disabled. I had found a new love, and the clients were all very dear to me; and although the administration made accommodations for my required meals, their substandard policies for their clients' own care forced me in good conscience to look for work elsewhere.



My next employer was my first home-bound client, and an extraordinary person for whom to work. I learned a great deal about independence and the true capabilities of the disabled from this patient Keith Fires II. Mr. Fires had Muscular Dystrophy, was a quadriplegic and could move only three fingers, and yet was still a full-time employee at Hughes Aircraft at the time of his death in 1988. His drive for success made me realize I was destined to help those who strove to help themselves. It was then that I realized that my diabetes could only be a hindrance to me if I let it be one.



My daughter, Megan was born in 1991. I can only credit a miracle for her current good health, as my diabetes was the direct cause of Megan's emergency premature birth ten weeks prior to her due date. In the seven months of my pregnancy I learned of many new changes in the accepted diabetic diet. Therefore, in a way, my pregnancy was a double blessing. First in that I have a beautiful daughter in whom I delight and love very much, and secondly, that during my pregnancy I learned so much about my disease and the many things that I could do to control its impact upon me.



Through the twenty years since my diagnosis, I have married , had a child, been divorced, and had my vision threatened by diabetes retinopathy in 1988 and 1991. Yet, my earlier dreams have kept me in the home-care field.



I have accomplished just what the doctors said I could do: with anticipation, preparation and determination, I have made my diabetes a condition that can be lived with.