This is the story of my diagnosis. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

   An entire month has gone by, lots had happened. Labor day flew by, 7th grade started up, and the warm summer weather began to reside. But something was a little askew… with me. I didn’t notice it at all at first but my parents were right, something was very well wrong with me. I was acting very obtuse than I was normally was but I was accustomed to it already. I always, always, always prepared myself for every possible situation that I can come up with in my head. Before the dentist I would brush the life out of my teeth, before school I would triple-check my homework, before going out for dinner I would make sure to plan what I was going to eat. Yet did I know, that there was no amount of planning that could prepare me for what I would about to go through.

   It was October second, I woke up sluggishly and reluctantly as usual. I went out to get breakfast worrying about the doctor’s appointment later in the day. My parents scheduled me an appointment because I was acting “weird” the past month. I was lethargic all the time and was very irritable. I got through the entire school day with anguish. It was so hard to make it through the day I just wanted to collapse onto my bed and sleep until the next day! I was greeted at home with both of my parents and my dogs, I had a quick snack and prepared myself for the anticipated doctor’s visit. We pulled into the doctor’s and stepped inside of the building. With people rushing to get flu shots we had to wait a good solid 45 minutes before I could even see the doctor. Every 5 minutes the tranquillity was interrupted by the echoes of young children sreaming after getting their vaccinations. We went to the doctor and they did all of my weights and height readings. My parents told the nurse how I was acting strangely lately and the nurse got an anxious look on her face. Like a red sky at morning signaled a stormy day, I knew that this signaled something unpleasant. She then told us that she would need to do a blood sugar test so they took a drop of blood and walked off. My doctor then finally walked in and then greeted me. We chatted for a few minutes then he walked off. A few minutes later the doctor ran into the room with a very nervous look on his face. The instant I saw him scurry into the room with that troubled look on his face I knew it would be a forerunner of bad news. He quickly said “his blood sugar levels are off the charts, they won’t even register on the machines”. I asked him what that meant and he said 3 words that nothing in the world could have prepared me for: “you have diabetes”. That was the biggest shock that I ever got in my entire life. It was like a dagger into my heart, it was like a jab to the throat, it was so sudden and shocking I could barely comprehend it. The next 9 words that he said were almost as nerve-wracking “we need to get him to the hospital now”. I couldn’t even remember the last time I was admitted to a hospital, and now I would need to spend the entire night there! I felt so defeated, I was healthy all of my life but now because of something that isn’t even my fault; I have to deal with this for the rest of my life. We walked out of the building and slowly got into the car. We started to drive back home, we were only a few minutes away but it felt like hours. I watched as the trees slowly crept by with their leaves angrily slapping each other. We pulled into the parking lot with everything seeming blue and dreary. I walked into the house and packed a bag. With streaming tears on my cheeks, I slowly crept back into the car awaiting the challenges I would face at the hospital.       

This was going to be difficult, I was sitting in the car with dried tears on my face looking out the window like a sorrowful dog on a rainy day. I always hated hospitals, it was so sad seeing all of the sick and hurt people walking around and doctors toting various injections and strange medical devices about. The car finally stopped and I froze up. I saw the medical complex towering above me like I was a puny ant, and that was certainly what I felt like. The last time I had ever been to a hospital was when I was a baby, and I can’t even remember it. My heart started pounding like a rabbit’s, and I felt sick to my stomach. My mom could barely keep it together, so for her sake, I slowly crept out of the car. I solemnly walked into the hospital like a prisoner to his own beheading. We went to the front desk where a lady asked for my name. My mom gave her my information, I was too scared to even speak. “I’m scared mom” was the only single thing that I could muster out of my mouth. I said that about 5 times as the lady typed seemingly randomly on her computer. She then lead us to a lady behind a glass window who asked us loads of questions like a police officer interrogating 2 criminals. My name, age, religion, everything. It must have been the uncontrollable shaking and heavy breathing that must have given it away because she asked me what was wrong. Well, the fact that I was in a hospital was one thing too many that was wrong. “I’m scared” was all that I could say. They then took me and my mom into a messy, ominous, and dimly lit room. I sat there looking at the various needles and devices all over the walls, shivering like a small animal having a seizure. My dad walked into the room a few minutes later with a somber look on his face. A doctor followed shortly, she greeted us all with a big cheery smile but I really wasn’t in the mood. I wanted so hard to be friendly and smile back but I was so petrified that all I could do was sit there with a grim frown on my face. She said that they would need to check my sugar once again. So she took some of my blood and put it into the small device. She then made a nervous sigh and muttered “over 700” to herself. “What’s going to happen?” was the only other thing that I could say. “What’s going to happen?” I repeated over and over like a broken cassette player. The nurse said “you have type one dia-” she didn’t get to finish her sentence because I started sobbing like a little baby. “We need to bring your sugar down by putting you onto an IV and giving you insulin, we just need to “pinch you” to give you what need”. I knew what It meant whenever doctors say that they need to “pinch you”, needles. That was extremely convenient, why? Because I had trypanophobia, the fear of shots and needles. I started to hyperventilate and go into one of my good ol’ fashioned panic attacks. Then two nurses wheeled in a huge metal box that was emitting a weird humming noise. “I have to go the bathroom” I blurted out to stall. I stepped into the bathroom and emitted a long and tremendous groan, enraged at how I went from being just a normal, everyday 12 year old to one with a chronic condition. This was going to be something that would affect me for the rest of my life. Reminded me of when I was informed about my allergies, I was devastated about it because I could no longer eat cashews. But this was a thousand times worse. After being in there for 5 minutes I realized that no matter what I did this would still be hanging over my head. No matter how much I tried or how much I stalled, or waited, eventually I would have to step out there and face my condition. It was time to be a man, and deal with this. I slowly creaked the heavy metal door open and saw 3 nurses waiting for me. They lead me into a small hospital room with a small bed and a couch, the strange box soon followed. I saw them pull out a slender, long, and sharp needle from the box. I was too tired from all of this to panic so I just laid down on the hospital bed as they asked me to do so. My dad reached his hand out as they moved the cold alcohol pad across my arm, I grabbed on. They tied one of those annoying rubber strips around my arm and equipped the needle. “OUCH” I yelled as they slid the needle into my arm and put a huge adhesive bandage on where the needle was inserted. I opened my eyes and stared at the tube now protruding. I saw them press a button on the box and then a huge pole for an IV was erected out of the box. They took a package of clear fluid out of the box and put it on the pole. They attached something to the needle now in my arm and my blood started to fill it. They took two tube-fuls then finally hooked up the IV to my arm. The two nurses left the room for a few minutes, then another one entered the room. She explained everything that was going on and the lifestyle changes that I would have to make. My mom started joking about putting a fake service dog licence on our Chihuahua and bringing her in. A few minutes later, an actual service dog walked into the room! It was an older Golden Retriever named Stormy, it was really funny. It would randomly paw at my mom, and would not move unless given food. A few minutes later the dog walked out, and I was starving. We waited a few hours, all I was doing was watching the tv and anticipating what would come next. It was pretty boring, but I pulled through. A doctor then walked in, once again explaining what happened, changes I would have to make, etc. As he walked out he said “your room will be ready soon”, finally! Another hour passed by, at long last a nurse came in and said “your room is ready”.

They put me in a wheelchair and rolled me all around the hospital until after what seemed like a decade, we finally got to my room. It was a room with solid white walls and flooring, kind of like a hotel room except it had a huge mechanical bed in it. I was so tired and hungry that all I could do when I got out of the wheelchair was lay down on the bed and contemplate my very own existence. I was starving, it was the absolute worst. I asked the doctors for food but they said that I could not eat until I took insulin. My dad spoke with the nurses for a few seconds and then asked me a question that I waited a long time for “what do you want to eat?”. “Smashburger please” I replied. My dad looked on his phone and winced. The nearest Smashburger was pretty far away, but my dad just stormed out of the room saying “I’m getting you Smashburger”. I felt bad because of how far he would have to drive, but he was content on getting me a burger. About an entire hour passed, it was 11:30 and all I did was play on my phone and watch the tv. Finally my dad barged into the room holding a bag of hot food. I was so happy! I was never a big eater but I did not feel like me at all. I was so hungry that I was about to eat the bag itself. A nurse walked in with a big orange syringe, at first I was very nervous. But then I knew that I just had to be strong, for my parents. I grabbed onto both of my parents hands as they uncapped the needle. I shut my eyes anticipating the injection, I heard a blaring clicking sound, then the nurse said “done!”. I opened my eyes and looked around, then stared directly at the food. We screeched the wooden table to the nearby bench and sat down. We unwrapped our food and finally ate, at 11:45. They say that every story has its moral, and this was no exception. As I bit into my steaming hot burger, I realised how much I had taken my eating freedoms for granted. Before I wouldn’t have cared if I had a big dinner or not but now, I can no longer be careless with that. I didn’t really think about how lucky I was when I had a snack. And now that I Can no longer snack freely, or have random dinners, I learned to truly appreciate all of the freedoms and abilities I still have. Because now I realise that in an instant, all of that could be taken away. I was so lucky that I didn’t make it all of the way to ketoacidosis, and that we caught the Diabetes in time. Now, I can appreciate things in life even more. After I finally finished wolfing down my burger I went to sleep. I was completely exhausted, I slammed my self down onto the bed and slowly fell asleep. After an extremely long day I could finally just be a kid, and sleep.

I woke up numerous times in the middle of the night to them collecting some blood, I didn’t really mind but it was a little bit annoying. I woke up after a long night’s rest. For a moment I forgot about the events that took place in the new day’s predecessor. I did until I saw the huge IV sticking out of my arm. Still today I wish that I had forgotten for a bit longer, that I lived in a few second window where my life was once again normal. A doctor came in to give my insulin, before she injected me she said some amazing words that I had longed to hear: “you’re going home today”. I was so happy! I would finally go back home to my dogs, my fish, my room, and finally get back to my life. The day consisted of doctors educating all of us about my condition, the things that we would have to do, how to administer insulin, counting carbs, etc. And then finally at 7:00 they said: “you can go home now”. That was what I waited to hear that entire time, and at long last, we left that place. We joked around in the car, texted my family members, and had some good family time. We pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car. We walked into our home, but something was off. I looked around, and everything seemed so alien to me. Nothing was different about the place, but it seemed different. We were visited by our neighbors and then I went to bed, in my own bed like a normal kid and fell asleep after the anguishing past two days.

The entire experience consisted of blood, sweat, and tears. It showed me just how difficult that my life could be. At first, I took a lot of things in my life for granted. An arising medical condition took away one of the things that I took for granted in my life, and now I realize what a privilege eating freely was. After this experience, I realize just how lucky I am. Like how we caught it in time, I can still eat solid food, and how I am still healthy. I now have a great new appreciation for life, and let this be a lesson to be happy with what you have. Because in an instant, it can all be taken away.

The End