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 Rushing to the Huron Valley Hospital in my mom’s Ford 500,I hold the left part of my skinny abdomen and cry trying to catch my breath that runs away from me every turn we take.

 In a soothing mother like voice my mom repeats again and again,”It’s okay we are almost there.” After what seemed like a dark fifteen minute drive to the small town hospital that’s only five minutes away from our house we pull into the emergency drive thru I pass out.

 Next thing I remember is telling a tall dark haired man the details about my throbbing pain.Then,I’m out again,this time I wake up to my mother sitting next to me in a room.A nurse comes in and gives me an IV in my right inner wrist.It hurts but not as much as the pain in my abdomen that has now shifted to the middle of my lower abdomen.Next,the nurse puts another IV in my inner left elbow,again a quick click of pain but soon goes away.

 As the doctor comes in he checks my blood glucose and tells my mom we need to get to Detroit for extra care.As confused as my mom is about all of this she tells him that I will not go to Detroit I will go to Ann Arbor!

 I pass out once again as my mother argues with the doctors about which hospital I will be transferred to,Detroit which is the hospital they are affiliated with or Ann Arbor the hospital my mom knows will be better for me.I wake up to getting in an ambulance eating ice for my thirst.I constantly go in and out of consciousness and end up unconscious for almost two days.

 After all of that I was in the hospital for only a week.I found out I had a auto immune disease called…Type 1 Diabetes.I will live with this incurable disease for the rest of my life.


  • Desiray,

    Your first sentence completely hooked me into this powerful personal narrative! The descriptive language used in this post is very strong! Thank you for being willing to share your story and I wish you the best as you live with Type 1.

    -Mr Wilson

  • that was a very good story great job

  • Yes it is true. On memorial day it will be my 2 year diaversary (that’s what we call a diabetic anniversary)

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