Saturday, March 5, 2011

The Beginning


When I meet people now, they could never know the struggles that I have had.  If you see me now, I am a happy, healthy, active young woman who genuinely loves life. (as cheesy and clich√© as that sounds, it’s true) I couldn’t say that about the past five years about my life.
I was diagnosed with type one diabetes on March 3rd, 2004, I can remember vividly, even though my blood sugars had me swaying in and out of consciousness, walking around in baggy sweatpants, a hoodie, and baseball hat, struggling to remember even the most simple information as the nurse asked me to recite my name, date of birth and symptoms.
“Well, I am exhausted, like, I can’t even get out of bed. I was supposed to go to school today, but when my mom came in my room to wake me up, I just cried because I can’t even lift my head, let alone shower and get ready. None of my clothes fit, I feel sick. I slept this entire weekend after an intense training session I had on Friday night with my tennis coach. I had this skin rash a while ago, and they said that lethargy ,thirst, and hunger might be some side effects of the medication, but I can’t even function.” I said rambling, searching for some sort of answer.
“Let’s test your blood sugars,” the nurse said in a very concerned tone.
“What’s that?” I said, sitting worriedly, as she poked my finger with a needle. The blood dripped onto the test strip.
The meter beeped. “HIGH” it read.
“I can’t even get a reading, lets try this again.” My mom and I looked at each other, not knowing what was about to happen.
“HIGH” the meter showed.
“You probably have diabetes,” the nurse blurted out, and went to go grab a doctor.
I sat, in a panic, and immediately started to cry, feeling as if she just gave me a death sentence, having no idea what was going on. The look on my mom’s face echoed the panic that was in mine.
The doctor came in, told me not to move, and said they were going to call an ambulance to get me to a hospital as soon as physically possible.
“I’d rather go with my mom to the hospital,” I’m fine, I insisted.
I got myself out to my mom’s car, with her help, both of us in a state of shock, panic, and confusion. She called my dad and told him to meet us at the hospital as soon as he could.
From that day on my life would be completely changed, and it took me until now, in the year 2011, to realize it was for the better. My life up until now has been very, very hard. Unknowingly, I was in the struggle of my life, or at least the beginning of it. 

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