Auralie

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I hate being in the hospital. I was in the hospital once when I was three, I think. Some dumb mistake led to my throat being cut open. It had damaged my vocal cords, so even if I were to learn how to talk, it'd be difficult to understand me. Anyway, I hate it. I hate the wires shoved in my arms. I hate the food that they serve. And I especially hate how the machines monitoring my heart rate use audio. If something is wrong, how am I supposed to know? I can't hear it!

Suddenly, the hospital room door opens and Papa comes in. I sit up, excited to see him and ready to go home. EC, Addie, and Allison all trail in behind him, smiling when they see me.

How do you feel? Papa signs with a sad smile. 

Much better, I tell him, grinning. Can we go home now?

Not just yet. He comes closer, drags a chair from by the wall next to my bed, and sits down. Do you know what diabetes is?

I know that it's a medical condition, but that's it. Why?

He takes a deep breath. There are two types of diabetes. The doctors discovered today that you have Type I diabetes.

I hesitate. What does that mean?

He sits there for a moment, thinking about what he's going to say next. The human body is meant to make a chemical called insulin to process sugars. But people with Type I diabetes cannot produce enough or any insulin. Their bodies cannot properly regulate how much sugar is in their blood. As a result, they must monitor their blood sugar levels and take medicated insulin to regulate their blood sugar so they can stay healthy.

How do I do that?

I'll call my sister, okay? She's diabetic, too. She'll explain everything better than me.

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