Everything Will Be All Right
Sitting in the doctor’s office, thinking Nothing was wrong. “Just a virus,” my father said. But then the doctor came in And said I had diabetes. I thought the world had come To a crashing halt.
They took me to Vanderbilt And told me everything Would be all right. My mom took my hand, And I knew it would be.
They showed me everything: Shots, pricking, injections, blood sugars. Like majoring in diabetes In just three days. They were so kind to me. I couldn’t have asked for more.
Out of the hospital now And on my own, back in school With even more to learn than before. Pricks and shots at lunch. People stare. My friends ask everything: how, why, what?
Diabetes has changed me So much and yet so little. I’m thankful for everything now. For my doctors and my friends, For Mom and Dad and Daniel. Now I know everything will be all right.
My Diabetes Bag
I keep everything In the nurse’s office.
It’s in a little box: Syringes, pin needles, Meter and strips.
I miss classes. And when I first found out, I felt like broken glass.
My blood goes up and down, And I bring a bag all around town.
There are holes in my fingers From when I prick.
Before I took insulin, I felt very sick.
My Little Brother
My little brother has diabetes. I feel sorry for him. He takes shots every day. Also, he has to prick his finger. If I could, I would trade places with him. He may have this for the rest of his life, But I believe my little brother Is going to be a very successful person.
Austin, 13, sibling