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This is one of the contributions to:DIABETES ESSAY AND POEM COMPETITION 2010
“Drink something,” He whispered in my ear. The voice was shrill and eerie, as if the owner of the voice wasn’t real, a ghost. I didn’t answer; I just laid there in my bed not wanting to turn to see who had spoke. I thought off the extreme tiredness, just wanting to prove to myself there was nothing wrong.
“Eat something,” The voice was just as cold as the last time, although distant it still sounded so clear... and real.
“Go away!” I pleaded tucking myself deep beneath the covers of my bed. That didn’t make the voice go away, how could it have?
“Get out off bed, you need the toilet.” He pressed, never giving in. Tears ran down my hot pale face as I tried to ignore the voice, but I knew he would never go away, no matter how much I ran.
In the morning it seemed he had worked his dark voodoo, made me exhausted, hungry, thirsty- all the things he had threatened or mentioned. I let a deep sigh escape my heavy chest. I felt the red, swollenness of my eyes, crying again? I felt awful but knew what was to come. My name was called
“Sam!” It was time for breakfast, time to subdue and drug the creature that followed me around and ordered my body like his personal slave. I trudged towards the breakfast table and saw the blood testing kit, time to see the extent of his power. I set up the needle, took out the strips... Click 13.4, it wasn’t fantastic, but it wasn’t really what he wanted so it was O.K. I needed to take the injections in order to keep my blood sugar level under control. I have type 1 diabetes and the injections provided my body with the extra amounts of insulin they need in order to get glucose to the cells in my body. It was ideal to have a blood sugar level of about 4-9 but seeing as I was relatively recently diagnosed my blood sugar level wasn’t that bad.
“Collapse, you can’t fight me off much longer.” He commanded his voice more dominant and controlling as ever. I avoided his gaze, wherever he was, and looked for help, any type of help. I soon saw what I was looking for. Grabbing my insulin I dialled up the correct dose according to my breakfast and injected it painlessly into my leg. He screamed once. For the first time ever I stared at him, a ghastly pale figure stood next to me writhing in pain.
“Stop!” He cried out. His eyes were as dark as his figure, like a shadow or demon. I didn’t feel much better; simply calling for help on my insulin would never make him go away. He was sapping up his strength from my misery. I cleaned up my sharps as he continued to moan and starred at him. His appearance, his voice, his actions, everything about him I hated. Part of me wanted to kick him until he left, part of me wanted to run and hide from him. But one part of me, one tiny insignificant part looked at him and saw compassion. He looked up at me and spat. I made no move to retaliate.
“You’ve tried,” I began and he starred at me cuttingly.
“But the truth is we’re always going to be together, there’s no real point in being enemies.” I said touching his arm reassuringly.
“You hate me, therefore I hate you.” He hissed. I shook my head at that comment.
“It’s been awhile since we met. I think we should start over. Hi, I’m Samantha. I’m thirteen years old and have recently been diagnosed with Diabetes.” I said cheerfully holding out my hand to the man.
He starred at it wearily before speaking: “Hi, I’m Diabetes. I’m two weeks old and have recently been diagnosed with Samantha.” He said sarcastically. I laughed an awkward, weird laugh that somehow felt right as we shook hands like strangers. He smiled, but it wasn’t his disgusting, crooked smile that he used to mock me. It was a warm and understanding one.
“It won’t be that quick. Don’t be so naive.” He whispered his voice back to evil and mean. My smile faded at the sound of his comment but reappeared shortly “I know, that’s why I’ve got my friends, family, nurses, insulin and school to help. Now I know you’re tough but are you really stupid enough to pick a fight with all of them? No offense or anything but I’ve got you under control. The only way you affected me before was because all I could think about before was how much I hated you, wanted you to go. Now I’ve finally realised you never will. I’ve decided to be your friend. Or at least I’ve decided to accept you as an annoying but... Hm, how shall I put this? Close life partner. And that’s the way it’s going to be, the way it’s gotta be. As far as I can see it anyway.” I stated making my point clear and exact. It took a few moments for him to take it all in before he laughed once.
“I’ve gotta hand it to you kid,” he said “Your smarter than you look. Most of my friends go from child to child making them miserable. It’s only when the kid realises they’ve got to accept us life get’s a little easier. And accepting us is not easy, that’s where most children fail to make end’s meet with us. But, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m going to go easy on you.” He laughed, I nodded seriously.
“I never said you would, you do what you need to do.” I responded and walked out of the room.
From that day on every time I went out to the park, went swimming or went to school I continued to see Diabetes. But he wasn’t linking my arm and pulling me down or running in my way... he was sitting on park benches or keeping his distance. It was as if he wasn’t even there. And every time I gave my insulin injection he didn’t scream with pain or cry or get angry, he said he felt better after. And when we went to clinic he didn’t make a fuss he simply sat next to me and reminded me that he was never going to go away. I always accepted that. And now when we eat, I eat all of my meals because I’ve got to feed Diabetes to, he made me lose weight and I’ve got to make up for that. Of course we fight a lot-nothing ever seems to go right for us, but in a way we seem to grow after it, learn more about each other. I used to hate Diabetes but for some strange reason I quickly learnt to accept him. “Drink something.” He whispered into my ear, poking my arm. I looked at him once with stern eyes. He looked guilty for a second.
“Please?” he asked, I smiled and took a sip of my bedside water. Sure it was impractical to have him there by my bed but at least I had him a little more under control. And to tell you the truth... it felt better. I turned towards him and smiled.
“Good night.” I whispered.
“Good night,” he said, “Sleep tight.”