Me Again

Today in class we took our personal stories that we wrote last week and edited out a third to a half of the original story. While I understand the idea of cutting your writing down as Zinsser explains it in his book, “On Writing Well,” understanding it and actually being able to do it are two completely different things. This assignment was particularly difficult for me becauseI felt like my story was already very condensed. Combined with the fact that every time I had to cut out another sentence, I felt like I was getting rid of a crucial component of my story, it took me around an hour of editing to cut my story by a third.

ORIGINAL:

January 4, 2007 was not a fun day for me, my parents, or anyone in my life at the time. It was a Thursday, our second day back in 6th grade after Christmas break. I think the cafeteria felt bad for us, that we were stuck in school even though there was still a little bit of snow left outside, so that day they served “Breakfast for Lunch” which entailed lots of sweet syrupy pancakes and waffles.

It wasn’t until I got home at the end of the day that things started to go down hill. When I got home I offhandedly mentioned to my dad that my hands were itchy, which I thought was no big deal at all. He, however, didn’t. Did I mention my dad was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes when he was in 6th grade? What I didn’t realize is that over the past few months, I had begun to show symptoms of Type 1 too including losing 20 pounds and was going to the bathroom between each class almost every 45 minutes like clock work. With just the prick of a finger, we were on our way to the hospital.  It wasn’t normal.

The next few hours of that day are pretty blurry to me. I met more doctors in that one day than I have ever before. It wasn’t until 2:34 am that I was finally alone. The nurses had just left, though they’d be back in 45 minutes to check my blood sugar which was still working its way down. My mom was asleep on the chair at the end of my surprisingly comfortable hospital bed. I remember exactly what time is was because as soon as I closed my pink motorola razor, the flood gates opened. I tried to stifle my sobs with my pillow but I’m sure my mom heard me.

The only thought I can remember having from that night was “why me?” I couldn’t understand why I something as terrible as this would happen to me. I wasn’t a bad person, I got good grades, I was polite to adults. So why did something as terrible as like this happen to me?

Screen Shot 2014-09-25 at 9.43.43 AM

It’s been almost 7 years since I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. What I realize now that I didn’t realize then is that, from the day I was conceived, I was always going to have Type 1 Diabetes. Realizing that it wasn’t because of something I did or didn’t do. It was genetics. This was an eye-opening moment for me. It was the first time I was able to separate my emotions processing from rational processing thought. I like to believe that today, I am a fairly level headed person because of this and that I can make decisions based on fact versus emotion. Although it was and continues to be the most difficult part of my life, having Type 1 is something that has made me a stronger, more independent person which , and I would not change that experience for the world for anything.

REVISED:

January 4, 2007 was not a fun day. It was our second day back in 6th grade after Christmas break. I think the cafeteria felt bad for us so they served “Breakfast for Lunch” which included lots of sweet and syrupy pancakes and waffles.

When I got home I mentioned to my dad that my hands were itchy, which I thought was no big deal at all. He, however, didn’t. Did I mention my dad was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes when he was in 6th grade? What I didn’t realize is that over the past few months, I had begun to show symptoms of Type 1 including losing 20 pounds and going to the bathroom between each class. With just the prick of a finger, we were on our way to the hospital.

The next few hours are blurry to me. It wasn’t until 2:34 am that I was alone. The nurses had just left and my mom was asleep on the chair at the end of my bed. I remember exactly what time is was because as soon as I closed my pink motorola razor, the flood gates opened.

The only thought I remember from that night was “why me?” I couldn’t understand why I something as terrible as this would happen to me. I wasn’t a bad person, I got good grades, I was polite to adults. So why did something like this happen to me?

Screen Shot 2014-09-25 at 9.43.43 AM

It’s been 7 years since I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. What I didn’t realize then is that I was always going to have Type 1. It is genetic. This was the first time I was able to separate my emotions from rational thought. I believe that today I am a level headed person because of this. Although it is a difficult part of my life, having Type 1 has made me a stronger person which I wouldn’t change for anything.

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