Diagnosis part # 3: You have diabetes !!

The blood test probably happened on a Friday because the next night we were all at my aunt's place for the customary Saturday night dinner with immediate and extended family- a very elaborate event.
I was playing with my cousins in the garden outside when I saw my mother at the gate, with the lab envelope in her hand. She rushed inside, and through the meshed door, I saw her sit down on a chair in the room where the rest of the elders were, break down and cry.

It freaks a kid out real bad to see the mother crying. And then I remembered- oh right! the tests. But that proud grin on having remembered something faded away, as my slow brain put the pieces together.
Hmm... she has MY reports in her hand,and she is crying...no, no she is wailing. I naturally assumed I was dying and started to immediately make a list in my mind, of the things I would want to do in whatever time I had left.

But I wasn't told anything then and since we had more important things to concentrate on- monopoly, pillow fighting and Tom and Jerry on TV- I wasn't bothered to find out either.

The next morning Mom told me that I had diabetes. I had no idea what that meant and so I kept thinking of things that fell within my maturity level while Mom told me all that she knew about it!

The funny part, however is that Dad did not want Mom to tell me. Funny now, offensive then. I mean I know I am slow but a tortoise would deserve to know he is a diabetic.

A lot of people ask me how I got used to the whole life-changing scenario, how I adapted and learnt about things. The truth is I don't remember.
I don't remember when it was that I found out what diabetes actually means. I do not remember getting my first shot or the first time I had my finger pricked (and THAT when my childhood fear of syringes bordered phobia). It is like suddenly waking up one day, trained and ready to take on your job. How and when did you learn? No idea!

But what I do remember is other other side of things. Getting back to school after the vacations, telling friends and teachers and adjusting to this life thereon-
a lot of things, small and big, which have been very different as a diabetic.