An Essay by Jack Heldring
I was about six years old when my life changed completely. My dad picked me up at karate looking anxious. There were tears in his eyes. He hustled me down the hallway. He pulled me into the car. He told me my brother Peter was sick. We were meeting my mom at the hospital. After ten minutes of driving, we pulled into the parking lot. My mom was there looking nervous. That was the day I found out Peter had type 1 diabetes.
I remember feeling sad, confused, and icky from the hospital smell. At first I thought this was all wrong. This was the worst thing possible. Now I know that it could be much worse. We could have not seen the symptoms and never known he had diabetes. He might have gotten much sicker. Thankfully, when my mom was younger she had a cat named Lucky with diabetes, and that was the only way she knew the signs.