Old School

Seeing a vial of medication and needles brings back memories from long before my diagnosis. I remember sitting in the pediatrician's office at age 10 and deciding between me and my sister who was going to get their shots first. I watched the nurse draw the clear liquid from the bottle and waited for the sting. I loved and hated to watch the events unfold of these injections each time. And of course I cried like a baby.

When I was diagnosed and sitting in the hospital bed with a tray of diabetic materials around me (needles, alcohol swabs, test strips, insulin, etc.) I did what I knew how to do: be a good student. I carefully watched the nurse educators describe each object. I was excited in a way to learn more about the purpose of these things. And I so badly wanted to be good at the task that lay before me. I took to my assignments quickly and in a matter of minutes knew how to test my blood sugar, draw insulin from a vial, and carry out an injection. The motions were easy. The emotions are another story ... 

For 13 years I relied on a bottle of insulin, alcohol swabs, and needles. The clear liquid must remain at or below room temperature at all times, but never frozen. The needles are one-time use and must be disposed of according to medical standards. And the alcohol swabs leave your skin feeling dry and irritated. And all of it simply became a part of my daily routine.

It's been 10 months since I've given myself an injection now. I've kept a few needles for "just in case" and the bottles of insulin stay in the fridge and are only used every few days to refill the pods for my insulin pump. Long gone are the days of 4-8 injections per day and feeling the sting of those tiny needles making their way under my skin.