dr. spencer takes her little spectacles off and leans in:
"emily, you've got diabetes."
i think i slumped down. no, i grabbed the seat. no, i think i threw my hands on my head in that way everyone tells me i do when i can't believe something. i do remember saying, "WHAT?"
"frankly, i can't believe you're sitting here in front of me like this. how'd you get here?"
"you biked here?" she just stares at me.
"ya! i have been feeling a little slower than usual."
from there i was taken to the ER (where the guy who checked me in said warmly, "oh, i see! too many snickers, eh?" hey, a girl's gotta laugh. especially one that can't even remember the last time she ate a snickers.
then came the admission. no, not learning to admit that i was now insulin-dependent. the part where they keep you in a room called the flow room for hours (go with the flow?) before they formally admit you into the room where you really need to know how to go with the flow. before i knew it, i was handed my new life and back at home a changed woman.
i now like to think of myself as being "supercharged with insulin."