The weekend

After having my blood drawn and blood sugar levels taken every hour for 12 hours they told me it was time to order breakfast, and that it was time to take my IV out of my righth hand. That excited me. When they peeled the adhesive off was horrible, worse than the finger prick. When the IV was being taken out my stomach felt empty and cold. I hate IVs they hurt and you can't move your hand at all with out having to help the tube. The rest of the weekend went by fast. I learned alot, met two other boys that had been admitted the same night I was. One was 15 and the other eight. I can't imagine being eight and having diabetes, its still hard to believe I have it. I don't feel like a different person from before all of this craziness happened. I feel stronger because of it, I am not ashamed of myself. I don't wish I could reverse what has happened, that would make me weak. I am not a weak person. I do hope that someday they will find a cure for type 1 diabetes. I hope that they find it so that not only myself but every other person with it will not have too have this on their minds all day everyday. I do not like to refer to it as a disease just an unchangable lifestyle, if this is how I keep myself healthy I am more than willing to poke myself with a needle, everytime I want to eat soemthing. When my discharge papers came in I suddenly became sad, sad I had to leave the 'saftey' of the hospital and my nurse. Later that night I became sad, again because I missed my nurse. Because of her I am comfortable with all of this. The finger pokes hurt but I think of what will happen if I dont do this. The injections suck but I dont mind doing them because of her. She helped me, she let me do a practice injection on her and she never stopped smiling. Now I am home, happy and healthy. I will never stop thinking about this. And I will never forget my nurse she was there the entire weekend with me, except for nighttime.