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This is one of the contributions to:DIABETES ESSAY AND POEM COMPETITION 2009
“When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” It’s an old saying, but what happens when you can’t drink that lemonade? Then what?
It’s about 5 am. I’m sleeping, but my mom isn’t. She’s up, with the glucose meter, quietly and groggily making her way to my room. I’m so used to it, 8 years of being used to it, that I sleep right through the finger poke. Then, she slips back out.
“Time to wake up, honey,” my mom says, her flat shoes clopping on the wood floor. Then, a horror like no other…sunlight! “It burns! It burns…” I yell, pulling the warm covers over my head. My dog, a one year old Cairn terrier, just like Toto from the Wizard of Oz, rushes in at the sound of my voice, and plops on top of me. As I pull back the covers, he licks my face. “Ugh, Reggie, what have you gotten into? You smell even worse than usual.” He wags his tail, and jumps off the bed, probably to get into more mischief. I yawn, and make my way to the bathroom. After I brush my teeth, and put on my clothes, I head downstairs. There, on the kitchen table, is the infamous tester. After checking my blood, and choking down some horrid pills, I eat a banana, struggle to lift up my massive backpack and stumble out the door, with my mom calling after me,
“Don’t forget to bolus for 15 grams, and a137 blood sugar.”
“Yea, yea,” I yell back.
Ah, School. A learning center, full of creativity, and hungry minds. Complete nonsense. The only time I find my mind hungry is right before lunch. As I kiss my Dad goodbye, I hear my name called. It’s Taylor, one of my close friends. We walk into the building, and a familiar rush comes over me. It’s the rush of knowing you have good friends, fabulous teachers, and a pretty darn good place to learn. Taylor and I part ways, and I make my way to Ms. Hurst’s room, my math teacher.
“Hi, Livvie, how are you?”
“Tired but good, Ms. Hurst.
“Ready for math?”
“Nope, not at all!”
“Come on Livvie, you have to”
“Says who?” I challenge, but sit down anyway. Its mid-morning and my blood sugar is probably high. As I walk down the hallway to drama, I hear my closest friend, Jakob, come up behind me. I turn around, and punch him in the arm. He lets out a fake yelp, and I laugh. We talk about when we could hang out, and tell weird inside jokes. As I walk into the auditorium, he punches my arm and runs. After Drama is lunch. I know I’m supposed to test my blood sugar, like I do most days, but today my mom gave me money for lunch, and I don’t want to wait in a long line, so testing “slips” my mind. I meet up with my friends, Taylor, Hannah K, Hannah P, Jakob, Lyric and Erica, and we head to our table, and eat lunch. But even though I’m having fun, in the back of my mind the little voice is reminding me to bolus. Bolusing is how I give myself insulin through my pump for every carbohydrate I eat. After Lunch is Language Arts, my all time favorite class .I bolus for 50 grams, and run up the stairs After that, I walk back to my math room, where I take a class to catch up on homework. I start feeling dizzy, and the room gets a little blurry. I know I’m going low, so I get the glucose monitor, and test: 69. I grab a juice. Guess I bolused too much. Twenty more minutes till class gets out. Now fifteen, ten, five… the bell rings announcing our freedom. I run out to meet my mom, and she asks how my day was. I tell her I had a low of 69 and she gives me a “you bolused too much” look. I nod, and we ride home with the steady beat of a song on the radio, eating the snack my mom has brought for me
Just today, I was having a conversation with a kid. I told him I had diabetes. He said he had asthma. We talked how difficult it is to have these challenges, but he said a very important thing; “Yea, it may be hard, but it sure doesn’t stop me from doing what I want to do. “Yea,” I say, agreeing.
So, the answer to the question, once you make the lemonade, then what? You bolus, or give yourself a shot, and enjoy.