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This is one of the contributions to:DIABETES ESSAY AND POEM COMPETITION 2009
When I was about five I was admitted to the hospital, while I was there I met this kid, he called himself Diabetes.
I didn’t like him very much, he told the nurses to stick needles into me in the middle of the night, feed me when I was full and let me go hungry when I wanted food. He made me need the toilet what felt like hundreds of times a day, and decided that every so often I should start shaking and feel very weak. When I asked him why he did this, he just smiled.
About a week later a nurse told me that I could finally go home, the news filled me with enthusiasm and I went off to collect my beloved action man pencils. The question Diabetes asked me next was like a slap in the face, “so when are we going?” I couldn’t believe I actually thought Diabetes would stay at the hospital!
When I went back to school a nurse came in to explain to the teachers and the rest of my class about Diabetes but unfortunately when I demonstrated how a blood test works one of my friends fainted! (He was okay) If Diabetes decided that I should have a hypo while I was in the classroom then all I would have to do was get some dextrose and (if I were low enough) a mini mars bar. By the way my personal record for a hypo is 1.6!
As the months went by I grew more and more weary of Diabetes, black marks had appeared on my finger tips where I prick myself and I was being put under increasing amounts of pressure to make sure that my HBA1C level was good. The fact was, Diabetes had taken over my life. He was constantly reminding me that I was different and that no one else had to take blood tests, I knew he was wrong, but what he said still got to me.
I must have been nine or ten the first time I asked myself the question. Why me? For the next few weeks the question haunted me. Why me? Why not Jimmy down the road or Paul across the street? Why me? And so one night when the question was particularly frustrating me, I turned to Diabetes who was standing next to my bed (he never sleeps) and asked him ‘why me?’ he made eye contact and with a completely blank expression he replied ‘why not?’.
I much preferred it before Diabetes came; there were no needles, no hypos, and no test strips everywhere you looked! For a long time I fought him, I kept ‘forgetting’ to have my injection or test my bloods, but all it did was make him angry and sometimes when I got him really mad he would give me ketones, and ketones aren’t very friendly.
We went on like this for ages, not really getting on at all but then one day Diabetes told my something very unsettling, he said “I know this guy called Blindness, and if you don’t stop ignoring me then I’m going to ring him up and ask him to come and see you!” I didn’t like the sound of this Blindness person, so from then on I gave Diabetes exactly what he wanted, if he asked for dextrose, then I would give him dextrose, if he asked for insulin, then I would give him insulin. And you know what? It started to pay off.
Time went on and I learnt more and more about my mate Diabetes, pricking my finger didn’t bother me any more, I was given an insulin pump which made injecting as simple as pressing a button (literally), and none of my friends were bothered I knew this kid called Diabetes. Apart from the occasional misplacing of my blood tester, life was good.
I was due to start secondary school in a few weeks and even though I had been assigned a teaching assistant that knew all about Diabetes I was still nervous.
I turned down the opportunity for a nurse to talk to the class about Diabetes like at primary school, after what happened last time I thought I should introduce him to people one by one.
The first day went pretty smoothly, Diabetes was in a good mood, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. I stuck with friends from my old school though, I think everyone did. But after a while we started to mix with other people, we grew more and more friendly. Then one day while I was testing my bloods someone pointed at my meter and shouted “Eww! What are you doing?” I quickly told him about Diabetes but not before turning the brightest shade of red.
I don’t know why I was embarrassed about Diabetes, but I made a promise to him I never would be again. The next day I purposely tested my bloods in front of another boy I had made friends with to prompt the question, “what are you doing?”, “oh, it’s just because of Diabetes” I replied, and instead of looking at me like I was an alien he just said that his uncle knew Diabetes too, I breathed a sigh of relief.
Of course I don’t run around shouting ‘I am Diabetic!’ I try and hide it as much as possible, and it is for that reason that I have become a master in the art subtlety; eating food without being noticed is my specialty. One of my favourite methods is to be holding some dextrose in my hand, pretend I am about to sneeze, bring my hand up to cover my mouth, pop the food in and then pretend to sneeze! Simple but highly effective. I don’t do this because I am embarrassed about my mate Diabetes but because I don’t want people to think things about me that are not true.
When I was about five I was admitted to the hospital, while I was there I met this kid, he called himself Diabetes, we didn’t get on very well at first but over the years we have developed a certain respect for each other, we have become friends.