Personal Narrative: Diabetes

April 20th, 2010 is a date that will be forever engraved into my mind. It was it was the day I was diagnosed with diabetes. Diabetes is when the pancreas stops producing insulin. There are two types, type one is when your pancreas does not produce any insulin. Type two is when your body produces some insulin, but not enough, If you have type one, you have to inject yourself with insulin, but when you have type two you generally only have to take a pill. Insulin was originally taken from pigs, but as technology has advanced it is now made in a lab. Insulin - A protein, pancreatic hormone secreted by the beta cells of the islets of Langerhans that Is essential, especially for the metabolism of carbohydrates and the regulation of glucose levels

The call was from the hospital. We suspected something horrible had happened. I started crying right there. My mom turned the car around and sped back to Good Samaritan hospital. At around 1:15 my mom and I rushed into the hospital and ran back onto the floor that he was on. My mom got there first, she stopped in the doorway and that’s when I knew something was wrong. I started to sob harder. I fell to the floor sobbing into my hands. When I heard my Grandma cry out in anguish, I knew it was all over for my Grandpa. I

In my family, diabetes plagues multiple people. For example, my late great-grandparents. Whenever I visited them, I remember them always pricking their fingers just to check on their glucose levels. Before they slept, they stuck a needle inside their abdominal area. For my great grandmother, the treatment halted the diabetes from taking her, but, unfortunately, my great grandfather was the opposite. He suffered from a massive, diabetic stroke. Despite this tragedy, my understanding of a diabetic person doesn’t stop there. Every day, for the past fourteen years, I have witnessed my father experiencing the horrid effects of diabetes. He wakes up to pain’s vicious voice. He limps around with his legs feeling as if they are on its last string, his back feeling as if someone placed an elephant on it, his hands feeling as if they aren’t

November 17th, 2008. A day that lives on infamously in my life. I can close my eyes now and remember it crystal clear in my mind. A little nine-year-old girl sits in a hospital bed, oblivious to what’s going on around her. Needles and IVs are stuck into her tiny frame as she sits motionless, surrounded by parents showing great concern. Despite being weak, she flashes a wide smile, bright brown eyes holding so much youth and innocence. And then the doctor walks in and says the three words that none of them expected. “You have diabetes.”

I am a loyal customer of your store at 9 mile rd and Van Dyke in Warren, MI for many years now. Buying my household needs as well as my pharmaceuticals at your store. I am a diabetic without insurance and never had a problem buying my needs at your locations before. Last week that changed.

Then, my mom had just arrived from work, at Banner Gateway as a microbiologist, and a future Physician Assistant. Since she had just come home, she was extremely exhausted after working from 7:00 p.m to 6:00 a.m, so she went straight to sleep. After the most amazing breakfast ever, my dad, little sister and I left the house at 7:53 a.m, as I remember exactly. Everything was perfectly normal, until my dad got a call. We still hadn’t left our neighborhood when my aunt had ever so mysteriously called my dad screaming over the cell phone. After hearing this, I knew something really terrible happened and would effect my family forever. I wasn’t sure what happened, but I was willing to figure it all out. My aunt lived in the same neighborhood as my family, so we turned the car around and zoomed towards her house as fast as we could. As my father opened his door and hustled out of the car, I had

As part of my PTA Forum class, I attended a lecture given by a registered nurse who is also a certified diabetic educator. Several people in my family have diabetes, so I really thought I understood diabetes well and that I wouldn’t learn much from this particular speaker. However, that was not the case. While, some things I know to be true were merely affirmed, I was also presented with new information.

In 2009 a lot went on in my life. On April 9, 2009 I was at my grandma house sleep when I heard someone call my name it was my grandma. So I got up to see what she wanted and she said, “I’m having hot flashes go and get me a cold rag to put on my forehead.” So I did and when I came back I put it on her head. Then she begun to close her eyes slowly so I thought she was going to sleep. But when I tried to wake her she wouldn’t wake up. She always kept a book of emergency contacts beside her bed on the dresser. So I called my cousin Donnie and said, “I, I think granny dead.”He said, “WHAT!!” So when he got there he told me to get out the room so he can see. Then he came back a few minutes

I knew something was wrong with my great-grandma because we would only travel to Mexico to visit her. When we arrived outside my great-grandma’s house were two police cars and an ambulance. My mom ran out of the car and into the house, my dad followed her. My dad told us to wait in the living room and turn on the television while he and my mom talked to my aunt. A couple minutes later my mom comes into the room and tells me, “your great-grandma committed suicide.” When I heard those words it’s like the world paused, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t react, I couldn’t move. She also told me it happened in the backyard, although she said I had to stay inside I had to go see for myself. I walked outside and I’ll never forget what a saw, it was my grandma except it wasn’t the upbeat, lively great-grandma that made the best apple pie I knew, it was a lifeless, somber version of her. After seeing her, I ran inside the house and

Upon arriving to our apartment, my sister, brother, and I shared three hours of endless stories my mom had missed. Soon after, my parents decided it was time for bed. Having lost in a round of rock, paper, and scissors, I was forced to sleep on the floor with my parents while my sister and brother took over the bunk beds. Within a couple of hours into falling asleep, I woke up around 3’o clock from the floor vibrating with the bass notes from the bar downstairs. Scattered memories of my grandma suddenly rushed into my head: all the times I vented to her about how much I didn't want to go to piano lessons; the times I cried to her, limping back home with a bloody scraped knee; and the times we laughed together as my baby brother tried to talk to SpongeBob and Patrick through the TV. The last memory was the final straw, and I was ready to explode with the welled up tears from trying to seem like I had it all together. Still trying to hide my true emotions, I banged my head against the wooden leg of the bunk bed in an attempt to cover the true source of the teardrops. After hearing the loud thump, my parents immediately woke up asking me, “What’s wrong, what happened,” and going along with being the boastful kid I was, I responded, “I hit my head on the bed.” My mom replied, “Everything will be okay.” But everything was not okay because my grandma should have been next to me but instead, she was half way across the world.

My parents were going back and forth from the hospital. I was starting to think that my grandma had actually already died, and they didn’t want to tell me for some reason.

That night when I went home, I could not sleep. I kept turning and twisting searching for comfort, because I felt disconnected from my great grandmother. I never imagine for one minute that my nana would be laying down in a hospital bed.

For this week it was still a struggle for my grandma Bonnie to recall events. We were on the phone for about 10 minutes and it felt like she was disappointed that she was unable to recall her childhood at this stage. I decided to ask if she could tell me a story about any of my aunts or my dad again. My grandma wanted to tell me a story about my dad what she believed was when he was at the age of four or five. At this time my grandma had her hands full, she had five children, two who were recently born (twins) from her story of my dad. She went on to tell me it could be a struggle at times because my grandpa served our country and was always away while she stayed at home with the children living on an Airforce base. To lighten up on the

I waited without moving a muscle. During this nightmare that I wished wasn’t true, I did not cry one bit as I was watching my grandmother lie on the floor. Instead, I just stood there with no emotion. The feeling of sadness and the feeling of losing my grandmother was so unfathomable. When the paramedics arrived, she was taken away and I went

I have family members that struggle with diabetes because of their unhealthy eating. They don’t get enough exercise and they are suffering everyday simply because they don’t know what to do. They got there because they didn’t believe that eating healthy would improve anything. I know that what and how much you put in your body is something that should be taken seriously. I don’t want people to go through what my family members are going through.