We all take our family for granted. Think for a moment about your mom or your dad. What did they teach you? Did they show you how to ride your bike without training wheels? Did they teach you how to drive? These simple things made up your life. It made you who you are today. Many people these days don’t give credit to these wonderful human beings. Let’s take a moment to thank our families, for the love and support and for the positive criticism. I bet that most 15-year old’s can remember the first time they could ride a bike without training wheels on or when they lost their first tooth. Those little moments make up our wonderful lives, the tears, and the giggles through and through. I can remember the time when I was diagnosed with diabetes, it feels like yesterday. My family was by my side the whole time. It was a terrifying moment for me and my family.

It started like a normal day. It was April 30th of 2009 and I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled for 12:00 at the Osceola clinic. I was terrified of doctors, needles and hospitals in general. I remember crying on the way to the hospital scared of what was going to happen. When we arrived we checked in at the front desk and were asked to sit near the fish tank to wait for the doctor. As I admired the fish a nurse walked into the sitting room, and she called my name. We both stood up slowly and followed the nurse through the big doors. The nurse checked my weight, height, and blood pressure. She asked my mom and me many questions of why I came in. Let’s just go back a few weeks.

It was still April I had my school choir concert that night. I remember curling my hair and picking out my dress that I was going to wear.  When my mom arrived home, it was already time to leave. When we got to the school, we all lined up in the back of the stage to get ready to file out on the bleachers. I remember being so nervous and feeling sick, I thought it was just the nerves. When we all were all piled together, we started singing our collection of songs, the lights made me feel like I was in the middle of a hot desert and I felt so deprived of water at that moment.  Near the end of our concert I remember sitting down on the bleachers. I didn’t want to fall off and hit my head on the stage, I was so worried I was going to pass out. At the end we all scurried off the stage and the first thing I did was drink masses of water. My parents were worried and they noticed for the past few weeks that I’ve been acting quite strange, I’ve been very thirsty, tired, not hungry, losing weight, and going to the bathroom a lot. They thought I was just sick or dehydrated but at this moment they knew it was something else. When we got home that night they sat me down and told me they were worried and that I had a check up planned for the following week. I was scared, but I knew they had the best interests for me.

Now we are back to April 30th, 2009. My mom had listed all of my symptoms while the nurse typed them out on the computer. The nurse finished typing and told us the doctor was going to come in and talk to us in a few minutes. About five minutes later we had a knock on our door, it was our doctor. He sat down and checked my vitals and proceeded to look over the information that the nurse typed. The doctor proceeded to ask me in depth question about my symptoms. I remember telling him that I’ve been so tired and all I wanted to do was sleep and when I was awake all I did was go to the bathroom and drink water. He asked my mom some more questions, and he came to a conclusion that I would need to have my blood drawn. My first reaction was to start crying, all I thought about was the needle. He told us the directions to the lab and walked himself out. My mom tried to console me while she gathered our things. By the time we got down to the lab my mom had called my dad to tell him what happened. He knew that I wanted him there, so he left work and drove to the hospital. When my dad arrived, he tried reassuring me that everything was going to be okay.  They called my name to get my blood drawn and my mom and dad came in with me to hold my hands. The woman that drew my blood was very nice and talked me through everything that she was going to do. Once she was finished, we sat in the waiting room which seemed like forever. The same doctor from before came in wearing this odd/frightening look on his face, we all had a bad feeling.  The doctor told us that I had this auto immune disease called type one diabetes. He told us that they were going to transfer me to St. Paul’s Children Hospital. At the hospital they were going to educate us on how to take care and live with this disease.  At that moment I was happy but also scared. I was happy that they knew what was wrong and that I could be somewhat normal again, and I was scared because what six year old knows what diabetes is. For a second I saw relief on my parent’s faces, but then their thoughts started swirling in their heads and they became more scared than ever. I could feel their grips on my hand get tighter and tighter. The words that came out of the doctor’s mouth were foreign to me and my parents. For about a half an hour he talked our heads off and told us that the children’s hospital would educated us and help us with further treatment.  We all drove home in silence, with some small talk. By the time we got home the diagnosis sank in and I was numb. I walked in my room and packed my favorite pjs, blankets and stuffed animals. The doctor told us that we were going to be there for about three days but to pack for more.

The drive was about an hour and a half long and I slept for the whole time. When we got there my parents grabbed my things and walked me in, as soon as those hospital doors opened there was this aroma of hand sanitizer and hospital cleaner, a sort of calming scent. The hospital was huge, filled with nurses, doctors, and children with their parents. We went to the front desk, and we had a nurse bring us to our room for the next few days. When we got settled a nurse took my vitals and she brought me and my parents to the lab where I was going to get an IV. There were two nurses who laid me down and asked me what movie to play, I chose The Little Mermaid. They had my parents lay down with me while they gave me the IV. I remember the little pinch as the needle went into my hand, it was an uncomfortable feeling, but it wasn’t painful. When the nurses finished, I had tubing from my hand to this weird medal contraption with two bags hanging, full of clear liquid. We were walked back to our room and sat their for the remainder of the day except for that fact that two nurses came in every hour to check my blood glucose levels and give me insulin shots if necessary. The whole routine was a hard transition for me and my family, I still hated needles and every time my blood glucose levels were too high or if I ate anything with carbs, I would need a shot. To this day I still remember me hiding under the hospital bed, so I didn’t have to get poked and prodded and my dad holding me down to get my insulin. The first few days my fingers were black and blue and sore, and I was starting to get used to the shots but still tried to fight them off. My dad stayed with me the first night while my mom went home to watch my three other siblings. We walked to the gift shop which was filled with my favorite things, stuffed animals. I remember seeing this grey stuffed dog, which looked like our family pet, and I had to get it. My dad and I stayed in bed that day watching Barbie princess movies and eating hospital jello. In those three days my parents had been taking classes on how to take care and manage my disease, it was a lot of information, but they handled it like champs. While they were at the meetings, I met a lifelong friend named Ava, she had been diagnosed the day I had been, and we were the same age. We would go to each other’s room and have tea parties while watching our favorite movies. On the third day we got the clearance that we could go home. When we were told that my family and I were so excited. My mom packed up all of our things as I said goodbye to my friends and nurses, it was sad to leave them, but I was so happy to go home. When we got home, I stepped outside of the car and smelled fresh air, it was so relaxing. I hadn’t been outside for three days and I had a rush of freedom and joy. I ran inside and gave my dog and my cat an enormous hug, I was so happy to be home.

Throughout my journey of life and my diagnosis my parents have been by my side through all of it. When I was at the hospital my parents never left my side and did anything they could to help me be happy. I remember my dad saying, “Jana, I would do anything to switch places with you.” I was six years old, I was being poked and prodded at every hour day and night and my parents were there holding my hand. To this day my parents are still there holding my hand through thick and thin. I just wanted to say, Thank You.