Confessions of a Teenage T1 Wallflower

The clock read 7:30 in the morning as I blearily looked out the window at the spring day from bed. I hadn’t slept much. I was up most of the night going to the toilet or drinking soda to compensate for the water loss. Pretty early on in the evening, I had come to regret eating all those biscuits. When my mom saw how much I was eating and drinking, she didn’t stop me. Instead she joked that I should get a job to pay for it all. It’s a good joke because who was going to hire a 13-year-old kid with barely controlled Type 1 diabetes?

I got up and did my injection of insulin. I wandered into the kitchen and had my breakfast cereal while daydreaming that one day I’d be able to drink my insulin. I would just mix it with a cup of tea and gulp it down. While I was finishing with the washing-up, my parents reminded me that it was my friend’s birthday party and I needed to hurry up and purchase a birthday card. I could picture the sweets at the party, including the inevitable cake. I slunk down further in my chair.

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