It was the beginning of my fourth grade year. Waking up every night every 15 minutes to pee. Then I would be so thirsty I would want to drink something. My 9 year old self even went through the fact that if I kept drinking water, I would have to get up in 15 minutes and go pee again. The thirst won every time. It was excruciatingly unquenchable.
It was a Friday when my mother took me to the doctors. The only thing I wanted was an A&W rootbeer float. Driving into the parking lot she told me it could be a urinary tract infection or diabetes. I didn't know what diabetes was so I asked. My mother told me I would have to watch what I ate and count carbohydrates like for my morning snack. Diabetes at this point did not sound to shabby. Plus, a urinary tract infection sounded embarrassing to tell my friends back at school for why I missed a day.
I don't remember if they poked my finger or if I peed in a cup. The lady doctor came in and gave us the news. I had type 1 diabetes. My mother started bawling right away and the doctor comforted her. Not one for crying I waited for the doctor to leave the room then I started crying. Heck, I didn't even know what we were crying about. The doctor finally returned, said that the two childrens hospitals they called were full though one was willing to make room. The other option was to stay in our local hospital. My mother was still very devastated, it had barely been 15 minutes of time lapsed from the news. The doctor looked at me for a decision and I chose to stay in my hometown. Little did I know what childrens hospitals had to offer.
Instructions were given to go straight to the hospital and to not stop anywhere. It was almost like getting the dreaded card in the game of Monopoly stating "Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200$". We arrived and a nurse, looking very nervous, stood there with a wheelchair. She confirmed who I was and told me to get in the chair. I stated very matter of fact " I can walk". She then declined my generous offer to walk and rushed me up to the ICU.
About 5 nurses pounced on me. Turning on monitors, taking my vitals, and placed an IV all within 5 minutes it seemed. The tv was turned on and everything seemed to be ok. I spent one night in the ICU and one night on a regular medsurg floor. Then I was discharged.
That was the weekend when my life and my families life changed. That was the beginning and there is so much more to the story.
Needless to say, I never got that rootbeer float I wanted that day.
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