Bret Michaels, lead singer and songwriter for the heavy-metal band Poison, began playing guitar when he was 7. It was the second seminal event in his young life. The first had occurred a year earlier when doctors determined he had juvenile diabetes. Michaels, 30, has been refereeing a tug-of-war over his body ever since—trying to adhere to the strict regimen of a diabetic, while sometimes succumbing to the hard-living ways of a rock star. He admits it has been a lesson in setting limits. "Most diabetics could never live my erratic lifestyle," says Michaels.

In May, Michaels and his band began a five-month U.S. tour timed to the release of the group's fifth album, Native Tongue. Before leaving, he met at his Malibu ranch with correspondent Tom Cunneff to discuss his tenuous coexistence with diabetes.

I WAS IN FIRST GRADE GROWING UP IN Harrisburg, Pa., when I discovered I had diabetes. I had been sick for about two weeks when one night I couldn't get out of bed. I was thirsty and was drinking a lot of Coke. I didn't know it at the time, but it was making my thirst worse and causing my blood sugar to go up.

Finally my parents—my dad, Wally, fixed computers at the naval depot there, and Margie, my mom, worked as an accountant for the state Department of Corrections in Camp Hill—took me to Harrisburg Hospital at 3 a.m. I remember being hooked up to an IV and the doctors taking blood, a lot of blood. My mom was bawling and my dad was crying—and I'd never seen him cry. I didn't understand—all I cared about was the pain of the needles. I was in the hospital six weeks.

For the first few years, my parents gave me the two shots a day I needed. But when I was 10, I learned to give them to myself. At school I had three best friends, and they were interested in learning about what was wrong with me. Most of the other kids, though, thought something was really wrong and that I didn't have long to live.

I didn't realize the ramifications of having diabetes until the eighth or ninth grade, when I took health class and the teacher explained that people with the disease can lose their eyesight, extremities and have kidney failure as they get older. That was right about the time that doctors discovered my grandmother had diabetes and when my dad told me that one of my uncles had died from it.

But I never said, "Why me?" and got pissed off. If anything, it made me appreciate the things in life that I could do. I think I also developed a lot more compassion at a young age than other kids. I had to go to the hospital once a year for week-long checkups. I would see kids who were crippled, who had cancer, stuff that was more severe than what I had.

Over the years I've been in the hospital four times from insulin shock. The first time it happened, I was 9 years old. Apparently I had too much insulin and then forgot to eat before I went to bed. The insulin made my blood sugar level go lower and lower, so by the time I woke up, I was almost in shock. I walked out to the kitchen in a daze to get a bowl of cereal. The last thing I remember was climbing up on the counter and reaching for the cabinet. I went out cold, fell four feet to the floor and wound up with seven stitches in the back of my head.

In fifth grade the same thing happened in the cafeteria line at lunch. Then it happened again on the football field in the eighth grade while I was playing quarterback. By this point it was really embarrassing; the cheerleaders were all there. When you're younger, it's not as bad, but later, you're starting to like chicks, and they're watching you.

It was even more embarrassing the last time it happened. That was in front of 20,000 people at Madison Square Garden when we were opening up for Ratt in 1987. It was our biggest concert to date. Our first album, Look What the Cat Dragged In, had just gone double platinum, and we had been celebrating. A lot. I had taken my insulin and had tried to eat some food but was hung over and couldn't keep anything down. We got about four songs in, and I looked back at Bobby [Dall] and Rikki [Rockett] and said, "We're going to have to cut this set short, there's something wrong with me." They said fine, let's get through two more songs. We never made it. Everyone started going in and out of focus. I staggered over to the side and passed out.

The press said I was on heroin. Growing up, I experimented with drugs, but I've never done heroin or shot up. I first tried pot in eighth grade at a Foghat concert. That concert was a turning point. Chicks were losing it and screaming. I said, "That's it, I've got to be a rock star."

Four of us formed the band in 1979. When we were in high school, we would play bars up and down the East Coast. Then in 1983, when I was 20, we moved to L.A. Eight of us—the band and four roadies—lived and rehearsed in a warehouse that we rented for $500 a month. During the day, I sold pens and pencils over the phone for $4 an hour. At night we played bars. My parents would send me money for insulin. But because of the way I looked, I had trouble getting syringes. I had a prescription from my doctor in Pennsylvania, but no one in California believed me. Pd go into a drugstore and say, "I'm a diabetic," and they'd be like, "Yeah, right." I eventually became friends with a pharmacist. She gave me a bag of syringes and said, "If you come back and look healthy, I'll know you're not a drug addict."

I've had other problems too, like the time in Portland, Maine, in 1989 when a hotel maid pricked her hand on one of my needles when she was emptying the wastebasket. She thought I was a junkie who had AIDS. She immediately called the police who arrested me when we came back from the sound check at 7 p.m. It was scary. They thought they had a big kill. Our tour manager brought down my needles and blood-testing kit and showed it to them. Finally they had me speak to a doctor. Once he realized I was telling the truth, they let me go. And we made our 9 p.m. concert.

While I haven't done drugs in four years, I have had some drinking problems. My psychiatrist attributes them to my frustration over being a human pincushion—having to take three insulin shots and prick myself eight times a day for blood tests. Drinking makes it harder to control your blood sugar level, and I've been admitted to Cedars Sinai in L.A. twice as a result. The first time was in 1988, and then it happened again last year when we were recording Native Tongue. We were in the studio, and I was on my third gin and tonic. I had to be driven home, and I puked three times on the way. The next morning a friend took me to the hospital. I don't drink gin anymore, only beer.

In rock and roll, your lifestyle is about partying. When "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" went to No. 1 in 1988, we stayed on the road a year and eight months. One day I'm waking up at 10 in the morning, and the next I don't wake up until 3 in the afternoon. So during the last two tours, we put a security guard on a different kind of watch: my diabetes. He's there in case I drink or oversleep. He wakes me up at 10 a.m. to make me take my shot and eat some food. It's made me feel a lot better.

I don't let diabetes run my life. You're supposed to live a really strict lifestyle, and I've done all the things I'm not supposed to do—drink and have a good time. I wasn't supposed to get any tattoos, because the disease affects your immune system and you can get infections easily. But I've gotten five tattoos without a problem. At the same time, I think I've taken good care of my body, keeping my weight around 140 lbs., working out regularly by lifting weights and mountain biking and eating right. I would be lying to say I don't think about my future health, though, because I do. My doctors say I have to live a much stricter lifestyle, and I know they're right.

But you have to deal with life on life's terms. In a lot of the songs I write, like 'Something to Believe In" or "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," I try to make something negative into something semipositive. There are so many people bitching about their lives. I'm like, "F—-, you're alive. That's a good start." I love that line from Scarface: "Any day above ground is a good day." That's so true.