By: Olivia Sayer
Roxane Makolo on Nov. 4, 2024 during Georgia women’s basketball’s game against NC Central. (Courtesy/Tony Walsh/UGAAA)
It is 1 a.m. in Athens, Georgia, and the alarms are blaring in Roxane Makolo’s apartment. Awakened from her sleep, she checks her phone to find a message from her trainer, making sure she is ok.
To any other person, the alarms — which can range from a police car siren to the sound of a baby crying — would be concerning. To Makolo, they are just another part of living with Type 1 diabetes.
Makolo, a fifth-year guard for Georgia women’s basketball, was diagnosed with the autoimmune condition in March 2023 when she was 22 years old. She said she first noticed something was off around the time that Texas Christian University — the school she spent her second year of eligibility with — entered the latter portion of its conference play.
“Something just didn’t feel right,” Makolo said. “For someone who really has a good conditioning, I would get tired so easily. I’m really someone that can go forever, but that second part of the season, I just felt tired, like I had no energy, so I kind of knew something was wrong.”
The diagnosis: “I knew something was wrong”
The feeling, which was quickly followed by excessive thirst and frequent trips to the restroom, was enough to make the typically spirited Makolo confide in the team’s athletic trainer. However, at first, the staff noticed nothing amiss.
“They didn’t think anything was really wrong, but I knew something was wrong,” Makolo said. “So I kept talking to her and telling her I just don’t feel right.”
Her persistence led to the training staff running multiple tests and advising her to visit the university’s healthcare center. There, they tested Makolo’s blood sugar, and the one finger prick forever changed her life. The number came back around 535, which was strikingly higher than the average person’s blood sugar range of 70-100.
“That’s like coma [range],” said Makolo, referencing the ketoacidosis that can quickly occur if high blood sugar is left untreated.
From there, it was a whirlwind for Makolo. She spent three days in the emergency room since the medical staff deemed it unsafe for her to immediately return to her apartment, where she lived alone. During that time, she was officially diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes.
“At first it was hard because that’s literally life-changing,” Makolo said. “It changes everything…I can’t do certain stuff that I could do before.”
Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease where one’s pancreas stops producing insulin, which is a hormone that moves glucose — a fancy term for sugar — to the body’s cells. As a result, one’s blood sugar must be managed manually using devices such as insulin pens and continuous glucose monitors.
Olivia Sayer explains what type one diabetes is and shows the devices used to help manage it.
High costs of healthcare
Becoming a type one diabetic is not cheap, as visits to the endocrinologist combined with the cost of medical supplies quickly add up. The average person spends $11,001 per year on necessities related to Type 1 diabetes, according to a study conducted by the National Library of Medicine.
Part of the high cost is a result of the rising price of insulin, which has nearly doubled between 2012-2021, according to the Health Care Cost Institute. Makolo, who was born in the Democratic Republic of the Congo before moving to Canada, quickly realized after her diagnosis how expensive medical supplies were in the United States.
“Healthcare is expensive,” Makolo said. “Being able to be covered by athletics makes a huge difference.”
Managing as an athlete
As an athlete, Makolo goes through more medical supplies than the average person does. She constantly has defenders brushing up on her, which can rip off the devices — a Dexcom to track her blood sugar and an Omnipod to give herself insulin — she wears to help regulate her blood sugar.
“If you don’t have insurance, it’s like $200-$300 per device,” Makolo said. “And you have to change it every 10 days. So imagine if yours fell off before the 10 days. Now it’s constantly buying stuff, and then you have to buy the insulin, then you have to buy the Omnipod, if you want. It’s a lot, and having help from athletics helps.”
Makolo began her collegiate career at Purdue and then transferred to TCU and Southern California before finishing her career with Georgia. While most athletes only factor athletic-related elements into their commitment decisions, Makolo had to take into account each school’s training staff to ensure she was in good hands with her management of Type 1 diabetes.
“That really did make a difference in the recruiting,” Makolo said. “Because now it’s not just about the conference, it’s not just about the players, it’s not just about the facilities. There’s more to it, especially with Type 1, you really have to think, are you going to take care of me as an individual.”
Makolo was born in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and moved to Canada with her family later in life. She then played college basketball at Purdue, TCU and USC before transferring to Georgia prior to the 2024 season.
Makolo said that Georgia’s training staff is “supportive in terms of understanding” how Type 1 diabetes may affect the level she can participate at during any given moment. For instance, they are always willing to adjust a workout if her levels are quickly dropping, causing her to feel extra tired.
“We don’t force it,” Makolo said. “They don’t make me feel bad about having Type 1.”
Makolo’s trainer even tracks her blood sugar using the Dexcom app on her phone and “knows right away” if something is wrong, even if it’s overnight.
“Sometimes I feel bad because someone else is awake at 1 a.m. again,” Makolo said. “It’s been a learning curve, but also one thing that I learned is that you shouldn’t be afraid or shy to ask for help.”
An inclusive space for athletes
Georgia prioritizes fostering an environment where athletes are comfortable managing their disabilities. Austin Chambers, Georgia football’s assistant director of player development and a Type 1 diabetic himself, said the Bulldogs excel at helping athletes manage their conditions.
“Unless you knew someone had diabetes, you’d never be able to tell,” Chambers said.
That is not the case everywhere, as the Memphis, Tenn. native recalled some of his past experiences.
“There’s been times in my past where if I’m acting a little funny or something like that, people will be like, oh, how’s your blood sugar,” Chambers said. “That just kind of drives you crazy.”
Despite the overwhelming support from Georgia’s training staff, sometimes Makolo just wants to manage Type 1 diabetes by herself. She said her calm demeanor helps her stay level-headed in high-stress situations, such as when her Dexcom alarms wake her up at 2 a.m. in the morning.
“Here, because I live by myself, sometimes I go low — like 55 at 1 a.m. — and I’m like dang, who can I call because you don’t want to bother people at 1 a.m,” Makolo said. “So now it’s like the shaking, the crying, the everything at the same time, and it’s like 1-2 a.m. and I’m just trying to keep composure because if I’m not calm, there’s no one to calm me down.”
Remaining poised helps those around Makolo not panic when her blood sugar reaches dangerous levels. Makolo shared that she has always been “someone who does not like to stress” because she likes to focus on only “what you can control.”
The mentality helps Makolo manage her Type 1 diabetes and stay calm on the court. It also translates into other aspects of her life.
“I really try [in] every situation [to] be calm,” Makolo said. “Even when it comes to basketball. Knowing the future, because this is my last year, I try to just take it day-by-day and really not think about it. Whatever God has in store for me, it’s going to happen.”
Social Justice Statement: This story was created for a social justice journalism at the University of Georgia’s Grady College. To me, social justice journalism is shining light on topics that are often left in the shadows. It involves focusing on the people who are affected by these topics and giving them a voice.