I was only nine years old when I got the news, the news that you are no longer a normal little girl. The news came progressively. My doctor already suspected, but did not want to make a wrong assumption.

“Hold out your hand please,” My doctor asked.

As I did, he took my hand and pricked then end of a finger with a needle and drew the blood. He put it into a machine, which I would later call “the blood sucking machine”, and that was that. My Blood Glucose Level (BGL) was 388, and I was a newly diagnosed patient with Juvenile Diabetes.

My mom instantly burst into tears. I didn’t understand why though. I just sat there, in the raspberry chair, watching the clock tick, listening to my doctor talk.

“You need to go to the emergency room. Go home, pack a bag and head there right away. They’ll be expecting you.”

My mom and I left. We did as the doctor said and went to the ER.

I ended up there for three days, hooked to an IV. I shared a room with nobody and I had to drink/chew potassium pills. It was hard being away from school.

I had many visitors and many gifts, lots of cards and “get well soon”s.

When we came home, things changed a lot.

My dad stopped cooking dinner because he didn’t know what I could have, he stopped just hanging around me, upsetting my mom. My sister came me sympathy and an “I’m sorry,” but it meant nothing to me. We had a family meeting to educate everybody else in my family, then another one at school for my teachers and friends.

The finger pokes and insulin shots seemed endless, and I hated it. I hated the fact that I couldn’t go anywhere without carrying all the things I need: Insulin, syringes, test strips, snacks, glucose tablets. For only being nine, it was a lot and I didn’t like it.

As the time went on, I got more used to it. Since it had been a year since my diagnosis, I could finally sleep in on Saturdays and Sundays, instead of waking up at 7:00am to check my BGL.

Then as even more time went on, I was able to get an Insulin Pump, a device that holds the medicine and allows me to only inject a needle every 3-4 days and to test my BGL fewer times a day.

But even with that, I hated the disease still. In fact at one point I just gave up on it. I stopped taking medicine when I ate. I stopped testing. I almost died because of it. The worst part about that is I was only 12. I was a 12 year old who almost ended her life because she hated to do something.

Although, there are fewer shots and pokes, the disease is still difficult and not well liked. Many people have this disease, and 1 in 5 are on their way to getting it. Even though it is more common in adults, a large percentages of children also have Diabetes.

My name is Ashley Eineder. I am a 13 year old girl. But not just any 13 year old girl, I am a girl with Juvenile Diabetes. I am fighting for a cure. I am hoping for a cure. I am helping find a cure.

I am in control of my Diabetes. My Diabetes is not in the control of me.