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Personal Narrative
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My first recollection was at the hospital learning to give a shot to an orange so I would not bruise my mom’s arm. The doctor made sure I had the needle puncturing the skin at the precise angle as to limit the bite of it. I was scared of the unknown. It felt like I was suffocating in the circumstances. Every new report seemed to constrict around me making it harder and harder to breath. Nightmares of losing my mom haunted me for weeks. The only relief was being able to interact with the doctors and nurses. It enabled me to handle the onslaught of knowing my mom would be dealing with this for the rest of her life. Next was the understanding that no food we ate would ever seem to taste the same again. With the lack of sugar in our drinks to different ways of seasoning our foods, my taste buds seem to reject it all. If time ever stood still it did in 1987, that year my mom was put in the hospital and diagnosed with diabetes. In that moment everything in our lives changed, from what we ate to the activities we did. |
