Although my drive to the hospital was not long. It seemed as though it was too quick, because deep inside I knew that I would have to stay and be admitted. I also felt as though my drive over was too short, and as though I was fighting to breath and have control over my body. Every breath I took was a struggle, and each time I moved any part of my body I was in pain and lacked the strength to continue doing so.
My mom pulled up to the emergency department as I slowly got out of the car, and made my way up the ramp. In my mind I played the sound of my sons voice over and over again. His laughter and babbles as he tried to pronounce words, yet even though he was not able to come with me there was no doubt in my mind that he was in good hands.
Stepping inside of the hospital site and sounds became so alarming, code blue being called over the loud speaker, children crying because they were hurt or not feeling well, people talking loud and yelling asking security and nurses how much longer they were going to have to wait. There were also the loud cries of those who were silent the ones whom either sat down or stood up not speaking a word, however their eyes told a completely different story. There eyes told a story of both pain and suffering with no where else to turn but the emergency room.
Because of the severity of my case (my glucose being too high) I was taken directly to the back where I was told that I was waiting to be placed in one of the Emergency Room beds. At some point I was taken to a room where my mother joined me after my oldest brother arrived to take care of my son. We sat there as she made jokes trying to cheer me up, and having conversations about my childhood to get my mind off of being in the hospital.
At that moment I realized that no matter how old I get I am always going to be my mothers child. I also realized that no matter how old my son gets he will always be my baby, and that no matter what I will support him the way my mom supports me.
Hours went by and to continue passing the time we began to watch movies and to talk about them. Finally a doctor came in to talk to me, and this is when it got all the more real. I was told the grim news that no one wants to here “Your diabetic”, and although I already knew this having been to my doctor earlier that morning it still sank in deep. The thought of having to take pills or insulin the remainder of my life just didn’t seem to be fair.
I listened to the doctor’s voice going in and out telling me how I was going to be hospitalized for a while. Listening to the doctor tell me that he was surprised with my glucose levels that I was not in a coma and that I was blessed. I listened to the doctor as he told me that my life had changed, and that now we had to deal with what was at hand.
The long, hard, painful, trail to recovery………….