Middle School

Back story: I actually wrote most of this a while ago; I found it in my drafts a few days ago and decided I should post it.
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I have been thinking about writing about this for a while, and reading this post from D-Mom Blog finally convinced me to do it. I've had plenty of school nurses to deal with, after all, I have been diabetic since I was five years old. There is one, not-so-lovely nurse that I began to grow a disliking for during middle school. (Middle school is pretty bad, anyways, but this nurse was the icing on the cake.) Now, I'm going to share some stories about my wonderful time (sarcasm) in middle school with this nurse. (I'm leaving the nurse unnamed to protect the guilty party.)

During standardized testing in middle school, I had to test my blood and check in with the nurse before I started taking the test. One time I tested my blood before I ate breakfast at school, (I used to buy breakfast from the school. I don't anymore.) and I was in the 500's.  I covered my blood sugar, then the nurse made me walk around the school's gym 15 times. (Or whatever was equivalent to a mile.) That doesn't sound too bad, except for the fact that I had a headache, felt sick, and hadn't eaten since about 7:00 PM the night before. I tried to tell her beforehand that exercising with very high blood sugar can make your blood sugar go up or do nothing, but she didn't listen. She thought that I was trying to get out of exercising because I was lazy. I didn't want to exercise because I felt like crap; after all, I had extremely high blood sugar. After that, I went back to the nurse's office and after a plethora of complaints, I finally convinced her to let me buy some food from the cafeteria. I got one cheese stick. I wanted to eat something more filling, since I hadn't eaten in sixteen hours, but she made me sit in the nurse's office and test my blood every hour. I finally got sick of doing nothing in the nurse's office, so I went to get something to do from my locker. I ended up walking into the counselor's office, crying because I just wanted to eat something more than a cheese stick (My blood sugar was going down.) and go home because I was tired, felt bad because of my blood sugar, and was hungry. The counselors let me call my mom; she took me home, and got me food. Since then, I pretty much hated the lady. All of this was treacherous, but the worst part was that she never contacted either of my parents to tell them what was going on or ask what she should do. It was written on my school health plan that if I had high blood sugar, she needed to call my parents, but she never did.

Another time, I walked into the front office to get to the nurse's office. (It was behind the front office.) I had low blood sugar and the ladies in the front office asked me how I was doing. I incoherently mumbled something, then those ladies proceeded to whisper about me and laugh. Way to make me feel better.

We also had to threaten to implement a 504 plan (which we really should have had anyways), because they didn't believe my mother when she said my late check-ins/ absences were diabetes related. (They didn't believe us because I had over 10 absences, the school's "limit.") Every time I was out because of diabetes, we had to have the doctor e-mail the school an excuse note, even if we didn't go to the doctor.

Recently found out: The worst part of this whole mess is that this lady is becoming a CDE and is apparently using her work as a school nurse as credit for working with diabetics. I pity the people that are going to come in contact with her for medical help with their diabetes.

Moral of the Story: There is too much irony for me to handle right now.

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