For a long time, nothing felt dramatically wrong. That’s probably the most dangerous part.

Looking back from the other side of a hospitalization, it’s clear that my body had been sending signals for months. I noticed them. I just kept finding reasons to explain them away.

This post is about those early symptoms — the ones that didn’t feel urgent, didn’t hurt enough, and didn’t trip any internal alarm bells.

Constant Thirst (That I Normalized)

I was drinking water almost nonstop.

Not “it’s hot out” thirsty — more like a background condition. I’d finish a glass of water and feel dry again shortly after. I chalked it up to:

• Caffeine
• Dry winter air
• Not sleeping well
• Working too much

I never once thought, this is abnormal. I just carried a water bottle everywhere and moved on.

Footnote: Persistent thirst (polydipsia) is a classic sign of uncontrolled high blood sugar. Excess glucose pulls fluid out of tissues, leaving you dehydrated even when you drink plenty of water.

Frequent Urination (Easy to Ignore)

Along with the thirst came frequent trips to the bathroom. Especially noticeable at night.

Again, this was easy to rationalize:

• “Of course I’m peeing more — I’m drinking more water.”
• “I must be waking up anyway.”

It didn’t feel like a symptom. It felt like a logical consequence.

Footnote: When blood glucose is high, the kidneys dump excess sugar into urine. Water follows, leading to increased urination (polyuria).

Weight Loss That Felt Wrong

I lost weight without trying — and this one did bother me.

I’ve always been tall and lean. At 6’2”, my normal weight sits around 140–150 lbs. During this period, my weight dropped to around 130 lbs, which is the lowest I’ve ever been as an adult.

This wasn’t a “nice surprise” or a side effect I welcomed. It was noticeable, uncomfortable, and increasingly hard to explain away. Clothes hung differently. I looked thinner in a way that didn’t feel healthy.

Still, I tried to rationalize it:

• Eating less because of nausea
• Stress and disrupted routines
• “I’ll gain it back once things settle down”

What I didn’t connect at the time was that the weight loss wasn’t coming from reduced calories alone — it was coming from my body being unable to use the fuel it already had.

Footnote: When insulin is insufficient or ineffective, the body can’t move glucose into cells. To compensate, it breaks down fat and muscle for energy, leading to rapid and unhealthy weight loss — even in people who are already lean.

Brain Fog and Slower Thinking

I didn’t feel confused — just slower.

Small decisions took more effort. Focus came and went. I reread things more often. I felt less sharp, but not impaired enough to stop functioning.

This made it easy to dismiss.

Footnote: High blood sugar and dehydration can impair cognitive function, even before severe symptoms appear.

Mild Nausea and Appetite Changes

Occasional nausea showed up, especially later on. Eating felt less appealing. Sometimes food just sounded wrong.

Still, nothing extreme:

• No severe pain
• No constant vomiting
• No obvious trigger

So I waited it out.

Footnote: As metabolic imbalance worsens, nausea can appear — especially as ketones begin to accumulate.

Why None of This Felt Like an Emergency

Every symptom had a reasonable explanation on its own.

What I didn’t do was connect them:

• Thirst + urination
• Weight loss + fatigue
• Brain fog + nausea

Taken together, they tell a very different story than they do individually.

I also had no prior diagnosis, no family warning bells going off, and no dramatic single moment where things clearly crossed a line — until they suddenly did.

The Part That’s Hard to Admit

I didn’t avoid the doctor because I was afraid.

I avoided the doctor because I didn’t think I was sick enough.

That threshold — the idea that something has to be obviously wrong before it deserves attention — is probably the biggest lesson here.

Looking Back

If there’s one takeaway from this phase of the story, it’s this:

Serious medical problems don’t always announce themselves loudly. Sometimes they whisper for months, and they sound a lot like normal life — until they don’t anymore.

This post is about that quiet period.

The next one is about the moment things stopped being quiet.

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