My : My Non Functional Cells

In 1997, my brother was four years old and my parents started to notice he was not physically capable of doing what other kids his age could do, so they decided to ask a doctor what could be wrong. Many blood tests and muscle biopsies later, my parents were told that my brother has mild autism and Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy means that his muscles will progressively degenerate and weaken over time. This news made my parents upset for a long time. Halloween of 1997, my mom found out she was going to have me

Near the beginning of my sophomore year I faced a situation I never thought I would endure. I began this journey after being diagnosed with appendicitis. Typically, appendicitis is a simple fix and one can eventually return to their normal lifestyle. Since modern technology is so advanced I thought my case of appendicitis would be gone in an instant. I was out of school for about a week to prepare for the appendectomy. After the procedure I returned to school and continued with my everyday routine. Little did I know that the hospital would soon become home. The week back in school felt like the longest week of my life, I was constantly cold or felt weak. As the weekend approached my symptoms seemed to worsen, it was finally after collapsing

It was Wednesday morning, 6:30am, and yes I had to go to school. I remember calling and begging, asking if I could take the day off, but mom wasn’t having any of it, so I had to get ready. The pain was gone, which I was fortunate about, but I still felt ill. I hopped into the shower, washed up, and when I got out I collapsed. White light again, but this time it was all I could see. I closed my eyes. I was on the floor, unable to move. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally opened my eyes. I went straight to my bed, and fell asleep. I woke up a mess, and felt worse than before. I looked at my phone, and saw at least six hundred missed called from mom. I called her, fearing for what was to come. “WHERE ARE YOU? WHY DIDN’T YOU GO TO SCHOOL?” She screamed. “I’m at home. I didn’t go to school because I feel worse than before. I really need to go to the hospital.” I whimpered. She told me that we’ll go when she comes back from work, and I agreed. Back to sleep I went. I wake up to my mom rushing into my room. She signaled to get ready by moving her head quickly forty-five degrees to the left. I got ready to leave, and we left at around

"You have type one diabetes and you will have to spend the night in the hospital in order for the nurses to monitor your blood sugars," the doctor said to my parents and I. Throughout the night my blood sugar levels lowered to the 120s. The next day I was released to go to the doctor in Idaho Fall, to set up a plan to manage my sugar levels.

I was 33 years old on November 9th, 2000. My family was made of myself, my husband, Doug, my daughter, Haley, and our dog, Josie. Haley was only 2 years and 9 months old at the time of the birth of her new baby brother, but I wasn’t quite sure how she would handle not having all of the attention. I could tell something was off from the moment I woke up that day. To start, Haley wouldn’t stop crying from the moment she woke up. As for me, I was feeling sick, and was having a few contractions here and there. I was packing my things for the hospital because I was scheduled to have a C-section November 10th. Afternoon came and my condition was getting worse and worse, things got so bad that Doug and I decided we should go to the hospital. I was mortified because I just needed the baby to wait a couple more hours. I could not have this baby come out of the birth canal, my

Around the end of January I began to feel ill. I was becoming weaker, I couldn’t even stand in the shower by myself. I lost around 10 pounds too. In the beginning of February, I went to the doctor with my mom. The doctor said we shouldn’t worry about it and it was probably just the flu. She also took a couple blood tests just in case it was something else. My mom took me to work with her, because she didn’t want to leave me alone at home. Later on that day, the doctor called my mom and told her to bring me into the hospital as soon as possible. At the time I had no idea what diabetes was. I was only 8 years old. It was February 9, 2007, and I was diagnosed with Type One Diabetes. I ended up staying in the hospital for that whole week, and stayed

J. J. is a 12-year-old, independent, type 1 diabetic; diagnosed at 5-years-old. Her experience of being diagnosed was a difficult and almost fatal one. It all started when J. J. got a bad ear infection and had an accident, which was extremely abnormal for her. The doctor put her on amoxicillin, and a week later she came down with a rash. J. J.’s mother brought her the doctor, and he thought it was mono. They did a mono test and the results came back negative, however, the doctor was sure it was mono. He told J. J.’s mother to stop giving her the amoxicillin and that the symptoms would subside. They stopped taking the antibiotic, however, J. J. symptoms got worse. She was frequently thirsty, using the restroom often, sleeping a lot, and would complain of stomach pain. J. J.’s mother said, “my ex and I would ask if the doctors were going to test her blood. None of the doctors did” (personal communication, October 26th, 2016). J. J. went to 4 different doctors before she was in some much pain that she couldn’t move and was throwing up; later that day, she was diagnosed in the Ellensburg’s Emergency Room. J. J.’s mother stated, “the ER doctor walk into the room and immediately said she diabetes, and needs to go to children’s now. The doctor said she could smell the ketones on J. J.’s breath.” (personal communication, October 26th 2016). Ketones are substances that the body creates, when it breaks down fat, instead of carbohydrates for energy. Ketones make the blood

I then said, “I’m not sure what is wrong but I’ve been having a little pain and I can’t keep any food down.” The doctor then checked me out, took tests, and then pretty much told me that I was a crazy old lady who was imagining things. Even though that doctor didn’t believe me, I knew something was wrong. I went and tried to get other doctors to believe me, but like my doctor, no one did. After a couple days of pain and no one believing me, I then went to my daughters house and all of us headed to the Jay County Hospital.

On the eve of my seventeenth birthday, I was having a birthday party with my family, and I was not feeling well. My asthma had been bad for the past few months, but seemed to be worsening. I even had to leave my party for a little bit to take an aerosol treatment. That seemed to help, but only for about thirty minutes. I started to wheeze again, and I was not able to catch my breath. I have had asthma all of my life and have been in the hospital several times for exacerbations. After my family had left, my parents knew I needed to go to the emergency room. I took my rescue inhaler right before my parents and I left to go to the emergency room. We ended up going to Nationwide Children's Hospital in Columbus, Ohio. Once I arrived, there was a long line ahead of me, but a triage nurse listened to my wheezing and sent me straight to the front. The nurses seemed panicked when they took me back to a critical care section of the ER. When I got in a room, I knew it was serious because there were five nurses and two doctors. I ended up staying at Children’s Hospital for a week and being on oral steroids for four months. Because of my asthma, I missed a lot of school during my junior year. I was on oral steroids for a long period of time, so it began to weaken my immune system.

Patient G.M. is a four-year-old female from a middle class family living in San Diego. She originally presented with her mother and father to her general practitioner with lethargy and several vomiting episodes in the past few days. Her father stated concern after realizing her frequent urination in the past week. Her vital signs upon initial assessment were HR 140 RR 22 Temperature 102.7 degrees Fahrenheit, BP 70/62, O2 saturation 97%, 32 pounds, and 40 inches tall. Her General practitioner was concerned about type I diabetes and performed a blood sugar check. Upon assessment the monitor read HI, indicating that the level was above 500 and too high for the monitor to read. The doctor informed them she needed immediate treated in the closest pediatric ER due to the potential for diabetic ketoacidosis.

She asked me what's bothering me, I didn't communicate, but knocked on my head in response. So I had a neurological examination on my knee. A test was to bring my knee to my chest and quickly straighten it, repeatedly. When I did this test, a neck pain formed. She thought I had meningitis. Shortly after I got a computed tomography scan( Computed tomography is an imaging procedure that uses special x-ray equipment to create detailed pictures, or scans, of areas inside the body). Looking at the tumor cells under a microscope can reveal the brain tumor type, so my doctor informed me that I had a brain tumor called benign tumor. My parents were so relieved. They were extremely glad that I didn't have a malignant brain tumor ( malignant brain tumours are referred to as “brain cancer). At the age five, I couldn't possibly know how serious this was. If this isn't treated and cared for, benign can become as severe as malignant. The skull does not have excess room for anything other than the brain. Therefore, as brain tumors develop and expand, they cause extra pressure in this closed space ( this is called intracranial

We asked you to fast the night before so we could be certain that this was not just due to your breakfast. These results mean that you most likely have type one diabetes.” Those last three words bounced around my brain before settling right behind my eyes, making them sting and water. What did she mean? I thought that diabetes was what grandmothers were diagnosed with- not eleven-year-olds who were just enrolled in middle school. The doctor could detect the denial and dubiety in my face. She explained to me that my weight loss, extreme thirst, and overall lethargy were caused by this diagnosis. The puzzle pieces began to click into place, but I wanted to decimate them. The rest of the information from my doctor was directed toward my mother because I had begun to cry. Hot, silent tears burned rivets down my face, but I just let them trickle onto the thin paper of the table. My mother gently tugged at my arm, and she led me to our car and explained that we were on our way to an endocrinologist. The endocrinologist would be able to better explicate all of the technicalities associated with my diagnosis. As we drove, my tears dried on my skin, and my face felt hot and itchy. My whole world felt like it was cascading down,

When I was a little girl, I would pretend that I was a nurse or even a doctor. I treated my teddy bears as if they were my patients from the doctor’s office, I would bandage up their broken legs and make sure they were not sick. When my mom was getting sick, I was helping my sister take care of our mother. Then, I started to take care of my mom by myself, because my sister had to do a lot of runs. Every day I came home from school, I would go and make sure my mom was okay. I would make sure she is taking her medications and even make sure she walks regularly. My mom was getting sicker and sicker, I didn’t know what to do, and my

My experience as a youth of family members with severe illnesses have been profound and life shaping. Although they are not experiences that are rare, they do not parallel with the experiences of others. As shown here, they are unique and mirror multiple identities developed in a child’s young life. My story began years ago when I was sitting in the living room cuddled up under my soft, worn-out, bear blankie on a brisk fall day when the phone rang. Upon interrupting my Spongebob marathon, I answered the phone. “Hello?” Immediately my mom picks the phone up in the other room, “Sam, hang up the phone, I need to talk to Aunt Sandy.” Resuming my Nickelodeon marathon, the house became uncomfortably quiet. Aunt Sandy called to tell our family

It was May 17th, 2011, it was a normal school day when my brother and I were told that my mom called to say that she was picking us up early. I was anxious, wondering why we were going home early and breaking our usual routine. When my mom came to get us, the first thing that I noticed was that she didn’t greet us with her usual smile. I was 9 years old, very observant, but not able to sense what was to come. We got into the car, when I asked my mom where we were going hoping