Getting Diagnosed: Part 4

Everything went really well that day. Other than not being able to get up and actually do something, my day was good. A woman knocked on our door, and when we let her in, she said her name was Deniese. She was one of my many nurses. And she was awesome (just saying). She told me that before every single meal for the rest of my life, I would have to inject insulin anywhere where there is fat. So my thighs, stomach (my favorite spot to do), arms (my least favorite spot to do), and my butt. At first I was like, I'm gonna' get a shot before every single meal for my whole life? Ouch! But then she showed me the needle, and then I calmed down. It took me a while to find it, that thing was so tiny! So before I got to eat my breakfast, she gave me a shot. To be completely honest, I didn't feel it one bit. "And just for fun," Deniese said, "you get to inject your dad in his arm." I smiled. "Really?" I asked. She nodded. She handed me the needle, but it probably took me 30 seconds before I actually did it. He didn't feel it either. So then he did it to my mom. So that was fun. Then she left, and I ate my breakfast, and I can't even tell you how awesome it felt to eat.

Deniese telling me what to do.

My dad let me give him an injection.