✓ TOO REAL TO DENY | SUNGHOON

23 - Sugarcoated Realities

Y/N'S POV

It's been a while since I last got checked up. I'm an overall healthy person, and even though my grandmother keeps on making remarks about my weight, I'm within a healthy range. But lately, with all the emotional stress, I've been neglecting myself. The ache in my abdomen persists, and I can't tell if it's a manifestation of emotional pain or if there's something physically wrong. So, one day after work, I find myself standing in front of the hospital.

I've always been scared of going to the doctor. It's not the sterile smell, the hospital's white walls, or the cold examination tables that frighten me. It's the fear of uncovering something I'm not prepared to face, whether it's a physical ailment or an emotional wound that runs deeper than I thought. It's exactly what I'm feeling as I sit in the waiting room, flipping through a health magazine filled with articles on wellness and self-care. The irony isn't lost on me—here I am, neglecting my own well-being while reading about the importance of taking care of oneself.

When my name is called, I take a steadying breath and follow the nurse to the examination room. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with a reassuring smile, helps me go through a various set of examinations. The more I go through tests, the more her frown deepens and my anxiety starts to flare up. I know something is wrong with me. I can feel it. 

"Have you been drinking a lot of water lately?" Her eyes are glued to her computer screen, probably analyzing the results. I nod hesitantly, wondering if my increased water intake could be a sign of something serious. In times like this, I hope I had someone hold my hand and tell me that everything will be okay, but I'm here alone, and if I don't hold my own hand, who will? "Miss Y/N, it seems that your pancreas has stopped producing enough insulin, leading to elevated blood sugar levels. We'll need to run more tests to confirm, but it appears to be diabetes and I'm being honest, it's quite a serious case."

Diabetes. The word makes my stomach drop. My mind is too overwhelmed to process the information immediately. There must be some kind of mistake. I've always prided myself on maintaining a relatively healthy lifestyle, and now, a chronic condition is threatening to disrupt everything. That is not possible. I can feel my hands shaking and my heart racing and an anxiety attack seems imminent. The doctor's voice becomes a distant hum as panic tightens its grip on me. My body is breaking down and I'm just a mere spectator, powerless to stop it.

"Miss Y/N, are you okay?" The doctor's voice cuts through the fog, concern etched on her face. I attempt to respond, but my voice catches in my throat. The reality of the situation crashes down on me, and tears blur my vision. I feel lost and alone in a world that suddenly seems foreign and unforgiving. "It's going to be okay. Although it's quite serious, it won't be the end of the world. We'll work on a treatment plan, and with proper management, you'll be more than fine; I promise I won't let you go through this alone."

Her words, though comforting, don't immediately alleviate the shock and fear. There are things that you just cannot prepare for, and a chronic health condition is one of them. I nod in response to the doctor, attempting to trust her. However, I'm not ready to accept the reality that my body has betrayed me in this way. "How has this... happened?"

The doctor takes a seat across from me, her eyes reflecting empathy. I know this look on her face, the look you give to someone who's just received devastating news."Diabetes can develop for various reasons or it just happens without a clear explanation. For instance, It could be genetic, or it might be a result of lifestyle factors. Stress or poor diet. We'll need to run more tests to understand your specific situation better."

Poor diet. I would have let out the most humorless laugh if I weren't on the verge of breaking down. I know I haven't been eating a lot because of all the stress and because at some point, my grandmother's remarks about my body are always lingering in the back of my mind. The doctor's words echo in my head, blaming me for a lack of self-care, and the guilt starts to gnaw at me. My body is not the one that betrayed me, but rather, it's been crying out for attention and care, and I've been ignoring its pleas.