Hey.
So this is L, here.
“So, what’s the special occasion for this very special guest writer?” you might be wondering. Well, I have been pestering my mom over and over to post this wonderful piece of literature that I have written. So, just for some Neurotic City Tradition, here’s a single paragraph of backstory!!
In the third week or so of school, my English teacher assigned a paper, or personal narrative as he called it, with the topic of ‘something that has changed us’. Obviously, having the ‘beatis is something that has changed almost everything about me, and since my 5-year mark with it was that week that the assignment was due, I decided that it was appropriate to write about the subject.
I don’t know what else to write here, so here’s my writing.
Nearly Dead
When I was nine years old, I almost died – multiple times. And I’m not just talking about
those super scary incidents where you trip over a classroom stool and break your wrist (even though that happened to me), or even that time where you were at Disney Land and the Matterhorn almost started without your seatbelt on (which I also have experience with). I’m talking situations where you have to stay in the hospital for a week because there’s a dead organ floating in your body.
During the third grade, my parents started to notice some changes in my mood. Because we had a family friend that had a plethora of food sensitivities, she urged us to get a blood test to see if I had any food sensitivities as well. So we got the test done, and when we came back for the follow-up appointment, the results were shocking. It seemed as if I had a sensitivity for almost any food or ingredient you could think of. Gluten? Oh yeah. Corn syrup? Totally. It even showed up that I had a sensitivity to asparagus. I’m pretty sure I only had asparagus a couple of times in my short life, and those few times the symptoms weren’t drastic, even nonexistent. So then I began this dramatic diet that eliminated the culprits of my symptoms. Both my parents and I felt pretty optimistic about this life decision.
In the summer between third and fourth grade, my symptoms were starting to come back, but even more severe than before. In the last two weeks of summer break, my mom, dad and I traveled to California for a high school reunion for my mom. The number of symptoms increased drastically during the trip, as well as the severity. Not only was I having insane mood swings, I was drinking gallons of water a day, going to the bathroom up in the two digit times a day, and losing lots and lots of weight. One thing led to another, and my mom scheduled a pediatrician appointment three days into my fourth grade career. By five o’ clock of August 28th, 2009, I was admitted into the hospital.
After being in the ER for a couple of hours, a doctor, Doctor Jon, came in and gave the final diagnosis of Type One Diabetes. A whirlwind of change had just entered my life. There was so much that I found out that night: that no, I won’t die immediately, that I won’t have a shortened life span (or a shortage or limbs) when I’m older (as long as I take care of myself) that I lost 10% of my body weight in three months, and that yes, of course, I could eat anything that I wanted now.
I don’t remember much of the six-day stay at Children’s Hospital, or the six or so months after the diagnosis, but I do remember some trivial details: the smell of the game room that I visited in between three-hour rounds; the diabetes education game that my least favorite nurse played with me, which had her pull out blood sugar numbers from a hat and have me tell her what I would do in each situation (once she pulled out a 50, in which she exclaimed, “I don’t know why this was in there, you’d be unconscious if you were 50!”, although not even a year later I was very well conscious at 32); and the moment of discovering the magic of Diet Coke.
Along with the downs of diabetes, there have been so many outstanding ups to counter the downs. I’ve met so many people because of my screwed-up immune system and made so many friendships. All of my outside of school friends I’ve met due to diabetes. My favorite part of summer is a diabetes sleep away camp. And I wouldn’t have had any of those memories or friends if I didn’t have diabetes. So, in a way, I guess you could say that I’m grateful.
Every day, I almost die one way or another – multiple times. But as morbid as it sounds, you get used to it. People always ask me, “How can you do it?” or say, “I could never do that,” regarding one of my finger pricks or pump-site changes. But you get used to it. In the hospital, all of the nurses said that living with diabetes would be a “new normal” and I initially thought that was a lie. Five years later, looking back, I can’t really imagine a life without it. It’s not a new normal anymore, it’s just life.
Here’s to another five years.
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| 5 yr dx treat = 100 cho from DQ |
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