Hello. I just wanted to share first hand knowledge about watching someone close to you suffer from diabetes and how medical "professionals" treat it.
My father had juvenile diabetes starting somewhere in his teens. He wasn't diagnosed until sometime in his twenties, it would have been the early 70's.
Back then they basically gave him some type of medication and told him to watch his diet and keep his weight in check. Well, that's what he did for some time and he seemed to be managing it okay. Of course he was using aspartame to sweeten his tea and such because it was thought to be a great sugar substitute for diabetics. I'll leave the artificial sweetener discussion for another time.
Over the years, his eyesight, kidneys, and teeth became affected like they commonly do for a diabetic. He was put on insulin shots at some point and the number of those per day eventually increased to 3. As he was approaching age 50, his health began to really decline. His legs were quickly losing circulation and he began getting the sores that won't heal.
Well, now came the time for the first surgery. They cut his leg from the ankle to the groin area to clean out his veins. This surgery went okay, but had a long healing process. After that, the doctors went surgery crazy. His other leg started going bad, so they removed his big toe. Then they kept taking off small bits hoping it would help, to me it was torture. After I don't know how many surgeries, they finally went up to right below the knee to amputate. My dad suffered so much through all of this, I could probably write a book. Then there was the artificial leg and trying to get the wounds to heal up. Later they removed all the toes on his other foot. All of this suffering was very sad and still is when I think about it.
The last time we had a little family gathering at a park, my dad showed me that his foot was now getting black(no circulation). He was going to have another surgery to clean out that leg, he was now 58, and I was afraid of the outcome.
He made it through the surgery and was home. I spoke to him on the phone on a Wednesday and made plans to come visit him that coming Saturday with my kids. Friday morning, I got the horrible call from my grandma that my dad's blood pressure had suddenly dropped and he was rushed to the hospital. He suffered a heart attack and did not make it. Devastating news to me and my family, he was only 58 years old. All that cutting and wounds and pain he had dealt with, such needless suffering. These are the ways doctors often deal with symptoms of diabetes, horrific to say the least.