Today, October 9th, is the day I was diagnosed 14 years ago. It was the day that sugar invaded my body in places where it shouldn't have been, like my eyes. Things were blurry back then. The things I remember from that week in the hospital, not in any particular order:
-Being scared, but not sure what I was scared of.
-My mother stepping into the hallway to call my father.
-The autumn plant my stepmother brought to my hospital room.
-My brother visiting.
-Playing with plastic food to get an idea of how exchanges worked.
-Tiger, the stuffed animal, my stepfather brought me. (It's still in my bed.)
-Being embarrassed and not wanting to tell any of my friends.
-My mother sleeping on the couch.
-Getting released for a night, only to end up back in the hospital, because I was scared.
-My father, quiet.
-Holding a needle in front of my pinched stomach for hours trying to give myself the first injection.
-Giving the orange an injection instead.
-My aunt Karen, dressed in purple.
-Get Well cards from kids at school.
-Calling a friend to tell them about my new life.
-Morning snack. Half of a banana and vanilla wafers. I always wondered who got to eat the other half.
-My exchange book.
-Wanting to do a good job.
14 years and you still remember. Sometimes I don't know what is worse remembering or not. My son Joe doesn't remember b/c he was 3 when he was diagnosed...I think I am somewhat grateful that he doesn't remember. It was a dark time for me (as his mother). (((HUGS)))
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