Title:- Surviving This
Rating:- M
Warning:- For use of strong language and the subject of the story which is Diabetes, some people may not like reading about blood, injections and medical angst...
Disclaimer:- I do not own the Thunderbirds...
Summary:- John is silently suffering, with no clue to how ill he was, until now.
Initial A/N:- PLEASE READ BEFORE THE MAIN STORY:- I actually suffer from Type 1 Diabetes myself, this story is written from my POV and personal experiences. As a result I feel very strongly about this fiction, though it is somewhat difficult to type. I write this not only for myself but I also wish to give hope to other diabetics out there. Guys, your not alone. Diaberes IS a horrible disease, but think of how much worse it could have been, Diabetics can live normal lives. It's hard to do, but we can do it!
I also know that everyone's diabetes is different, if you disagree with anything written or know about Diabetes better than I do...(I've only been diagnosed a little over a year...) then please review or PM me to let me know.
Surviving This
Chapter One – Discovery
I groaned as I woke up. For Christ sake! What is it now? The moment I thought that I felt guilty, it could be a real emergency, those kinds of thoughts could cost lives! With another groan I sat up, but I felt the over-whelming need to collapse back into the nice, warm, cosy bedding. I whined mentally at the thought. I have to think of getting out of the bed, not in it! I reluctantly stood, but stumbled slightly. It happened every morning. The blood seemed to rush to my head and the whole world would tilt. The number of times I've fallen out of my bed or had to sit down... Stop Thinking! I have to move there could be an emergency! I thought mentally berating myself. I washed and dressed quickly, although 'quickly' was actually about half hour because I had to stop and re-orientate myself, these light headed moments were getting more regular. With a sigh I was finally ready to move into the control room, a quick glance at the screen showed nothing of importance.
I walked over to the chair and sat down, collapsing as if I had run a marathon. I guess nine months of the year in space can do that to a person. I slid over to the main console and checked the monitors carefully.I felt my headache grow worse as a loud noise echoed through the station; I moved my hand over to the source and flicked a switch, instinct fully knowing what button to press through memory and touch. My eyes were focused on the screen above my head. "This international rescue, how may we help?" I recited off by heart. I was watching the hurricane that was getting suspiciously close to America, if it got any closer I'd inform the appropriate authorities that International Rescue was watching, ready to help.
"Son?" I flinched, my head throbbing. I glanced down at the small private view screen to the left-hand side of me. Dad still looked relatively young, with smooth tan skin, dark hair and dark eyes. He was staring worriedly at me, not that I was surprised I did look like crap. My face was blemished and white, my bleached hair was lanky and I was skinny, no matter how much I ate. I was tired and everything felt repetitive. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Dad." I replied out loud, but inwardly I was just begging him to leave me alone. Every noise was painful, even my families voices grated. It didn't help that I was staring at bright screens, in a dark space station 24 hours of the day, 7 days of the week for nine months of the year.
"Are you sure?" Came the usual question. Scott had been asking that a lot. My nerves were frayed, I was agitated and being asked the same questions over and over again, was just frustrating. I mentally sighed, I wanted sugar. I needed sugar.
"Yes, I'm sure." I answered, I pressed some buttons and transferred my Dad's face onto the view screen of my watch. I stretched and stood up, I immediately felt top-heavy. I wanted to sit back down, but I needed the sugar high. I slowly wandered into the small kitchen and pulled out a mug. I put a teabag in it and proceeded to fill the cup with four big teaspoons of sugar. I boiled the water and filled the mug full of water and added a small drop of milk. I liked my tea strong and sweet. I took a sip and sighed in relief at the tingling of the sugar in my mouth.
I sat down on a stool and took the time to drink my drink. It took me a moment to remember my dad was on my watch. I glanced down and smiled at my dad's face, he was frowning thoughtfully. "Do you really need four sugars in your tea?" He asked.
I chuckled. "It tastes awful without it." I admitted, taking a larger sip of the drink. I knew it was sickly sweet to a lot of people but to me it was delicious.
"What's happening about that hurricane near North America?" Dad asked.
I inwardly groaned, why had he asked about work. I had just moved out of the main control room, now he wanted me to go back. I just wanted to whine, leave me alone and curl up in my bed. But instead I sighed and dragged myself back into the control room. "The hurricane seems to be heading for land but it's not yet close enough to cause any damage. If it gets closer I'll inform the authorities that we are watching." I answered, drinking the rest of my drink. The sugar was piled at the bottom and I eagerly spooned it up to eat the sugar.
Dad frowned. "Alright son, I'm sending Scott, Virgil and Brains up to you, Brains will remain on Thunderbird 5, I want you to come home and see a doctor. You're losing too much weight. They should be there in an hour or so. Pack what you need."
"What?" I asked looking down at him like he was mad. He rarely allowed me down from Thunderbird 5, I was the best at communications and handling my bird. Yet he was bringing me down because I was losing weight? I sighed, I didn't feel well but it wasn't that bad, surely? It was most probably stress.
I guess Dad didn't agree, he was staring hard at me with his 'I-won't-take-no-for-an-answer' look. "John Glenn Tracy, you will go to your quarters and you will pack all your things. Now!" I sighed but nodded in agreement. "I will see you soon son."
"See you soon." I answered ending the call. With another sigh I stood and wandered into my quarters. I didn't really have much to pack, just my uniforms, underwear, toothbrush, toothpaste and books. The only problem was that a simple five minute job turned into over half an hour. I was exhausted just from going back and forth from the ensuite and my quarters. No wonder Dad and Scott were worried.
I lay back against the pillows and sighed. I didn't know what to think, most of the time I felt normal. It was only when I got real stressed that these headaches started, the dizzy spells pretty much happened every day. I just assumed that it was because I was in space, with less gravity and the darkness of space, apparently my family thought differently. I rub my hands against my face tiredly, everything was so stressful. Why couldn't they leave me alone? They were happy to leave me here for nine months of the year, why start bothering now? I mentally flinch as soon as I thought those words. They hadn't forgotten me, I was just better up here than down there. Damn this sucked! I felt so emotional, everything was getting to me. Why was I so stressed? It wasn't right to snap at family just for showing they care! I've wanted them to take me back down to Earth for months and the moment they do, I'm sulking like some big kid! I couldn't bring myself to really car, though. I was just so tired of everything.
"John!" I mentally groaned my head was hurting; the least they could do was be quieter! Something bright was flashed over my eyelids. Wait Eyelids? When had I closed my eyes? I opened them quickly, but immediately clenched them shut when a bright light was flashed over them. "Sorry." I just glared up at my second oldest brother. My eyes were seeing tiny lights and speckles where the light had shone. Damn, another pain to add to the list. "How are you feeling?" Like shit, thanks for asking. I pushed my older brother away and sat up slowly, not wanting to show them how dizzy I was.
Two pairs of brown eyes stared down at me, I found myself amused, Virgil and Scott looked incredibly similar. I wonder if they were trying to be twins. Both had brown hair, bleached white at the tips and both had expressive brown eyes. Like Dad they had smooth, tanned skin from hours in the sun, whilst I was up here starving and turning into a white, blemished skin skeleton. I mentally sighed; there were those depressing thoughts again. Maybe the stress was coming from me; I seemed to hate myself and everything around me.
Gentle hands tilted my face so I would meet my oldest brother's eyes. "Answer the question, John. How are you feeling?" Scott asked, looking down at me in worry.
"I'm fine."
"Bullshit!" Scott answered.
"You've had dizzy spells?" Virgil asked. I was considering ignoring them, but they stared down at me with slight panic. I couldn't be that bad, could I? Instead I nodded. "You've been drinking more sugar and haven't been properly eating." It was more of a statement then a question, but I nodded, it looked like Virgil had some sort of suspicion or something. "It doesn't matter what you eat, you still lose weight?" Again I nodded, looking at Virgil expectedly. Virgil had already made some theoretical diagnosis, what was it? "I have to get John strapped into Thunderbird 3. You set up Brains and Fermat here." Virgil ordered.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me up to my feet. I gripped the older man's shoulder as another dizzy spell hit me, God did I hate them! I shivered slightly, with the cold and with the fact that I could feel how skinny I was to my older brother. Virgil was quite skinny, himself yet he was able to lift me like I weighed nothing. I couldn't even pull away, his arms felt like iron bands around me. Virgil lifted my arm over his shoulder and put an arm around my waist, before walking over to the doors to Thunderbird 3. All four of them stared at me in worry, I felt guilty. I was ill and now I was making myself a burden. Fermat was just a kid. He may be part of the IR now, but he wasn't experienced with space and Dad was allowing his father and him to remain on Thunderbird 5 on their own! If I wasn't ill, this wouldn't be happening. I'm a bloody failure; I can't even take care of myself properly. I glanced at Virgil from the corner of my eye. My brothers, including the very youngest Adam had always put their lives on the line rescuing those who needed rescuing, including me at one point. Yet here I was being taken home because I couldn't handle stress! What a bloody weakling I was!
I silently strapped myself into a seat under Virgil's watchful eyes. My brothers had come all this way to help me because I suffered from stress. Virgil was watching me worriedly, was he worried for my mental health? Was he worried I would hurt myself of someone else? Did Dad want me back on Earth because he couldn't trust me on Thunderbird 5 no more? I was sure I hadn't ever given Dad a reason to distrust me. I did my job perfectly. What did I do wrong? Or was it just me?
Scott finally returned to the cockpit of Thunderbird 3. "Brains and Fermat are settled, we are ready to return." He stated simply as he strapped himself in. "Preparing to separate."
"You have go to separate." Brains voice echoed through the console.
"Separating in 3, 2, 1." Scott continued. "Separating complete." He said needlessly, we all heard the clamps release. "Returning to Earth." I sighed in annoyance; did he need to say everything out like a bloody step by step guide? I mentally groaned, there was my bad temper again! I was so fed up with it, I loved my brothers and although I could kill them sometimes, I had never been this moody about them before! Not even in my head! I was very glad I still had control of what I said, because I never wanted to say what I thought to my brothers. They'd never forgive me! Instead I stayed quiet. I was always quiet. It was my rule. Never talk about what I thought or what I felt, just be the good, quiet kid, well behaved and out of the way.
Several hours later and I was fidgeting, I wanted out of this damn rocket. I've been sitting for over an hour. I want fresh air and proper, fresh, awesome coffee. Then sleep. I definitely wanted sleep. When the craft was landed, I followed Virgil out, Scott remained to make sure all systems were shut down. I just wanted to disappear into my room. Sod the doctors. I followed Virgil out an intended to slip away but instead I was hit head on by two missiles, with blonde hair and ginger hair. Two pairs of blue eyes gave me a once over. They obviously did not like what they saw because they frowned.
"John." I glanced up at my father and waited. "Go change into civilian clothing, your appointment at the doctors is in 45 minutes." I nodded and turned, leaving the room, but not without noticing Virgil's pointed look at Dad out the corner of my eye. They would be talking about me the moment I was out of ear shot. They didn't even trust me to speak to me face to face. Instead they'd talk about me behind my back!
With stiff shoulders I left my Dad's office, the command centre or Head Quarters as Scott and Dad liked to call it and walked to my room. The moment I was inside I closed the door securely and sighed. I felt like some ticking time bomb. I was this close to snapping at my family for the littlist thing. I mean they could be worried for me! They could be talking about how to help me and I was getting paranoid!
I sighed again and pulled on some jeans and a shirt. I blinked as they slid down me. They normally fit. The pair was small, I was the slimmest of my family, but this was stupid, even my smallest pair slid down! I couldn't be that skinny. I glanced at the mirror and gasped. Apparently yes I could. I could see the outline of my bones through my skin. Shit! I was ill. I pulled out a belt and set it on the tightest setting, before choosing a baggy top to put over my black vest. I was wary of what I looked like before, but now I knew I was ashamed! My skin was pasty, my eyes were dull, my hair was lanky and I was literally skin and bones. How the hell had I survived almost nine months up in space on sugar full coffee and chocolate?
I strolled out of my room and met with my Dad, Virgil and Scott by our family car. I climbed into the back behind the passenger seat, which Scott took. Dad climbed into the driver's seat and Virgil climbed into the backseat, with me behind dad. The drive was silent, I usually liked to listen to music or stare out at the view as we flew from Tracy Island and then drove to wherever we needed or wanted to be. But now I was just concerned with myself. How hadn't I noticed how ill I was being? Could stress really have caused this? I didn't have much time to ponder as we pulled into the small car park of the doctor's surgery.
As we walked into the reception Dad smiled at the receptionist and simply stated, whilst pointing to me. "Mr John Tracy."
The lady checked the computer. "Ah, Mr John Tracy. Please take a seat." I nodded with a small smile before strolling for the corner seat, out of the way. I sighed as I sat down again, rubbing hands over my face, ignoring the concerned glances from my two older brothers and Dad.
This is so pointless; the doctors don't even bother to be on time. I thought, I instantly felt guilty, what if a patient was taking longer due to a real issue. I shouldn't have thought so harshly.
"Mr Tracy?" A man asked. I nodded and stood, following the doctor. I heard my Dad and two brothers following. The man smiled at me and the rest of my family. "Please take a seat." I sat on the bed in the corner, Dad sat on the chair, Virgil took the spare seat and Scott leant against the edge of the bed. "Now I'm guessing that you're Mr John Tracy, I'm Jack Clarke." The doctor stated glancing at me. I frowned, I was obviously really sick if this man could spot it instantly. "You don't have a lot of weight. Do you have any lumps or unexplained bruising?" I shook my head.
Virgil coughed. "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, I'm training to be a doctor myself and as his brother I've noticed a few symptoms. Well actually we've all noticed symptoms." He stated pointing at himself, Dad and Scott. "He's tired, doesn't eat any proper food but is happy to eat chocolate and sweets, his coffees have four sugars each."
"He seems very tired." Scott added. "Like everything is repetitive, I noticed earlier that noises seem to hurt him."
"That sounds quite serious. Do you have any ideas what could have caused this?" Jack asked, glancing at me.
"I figured it was just stress." I replied quietly. Scott snorted loudly. "Well you spend nine months up in space using reused water to make the brown slop they call coffee powder into drinkable coffee and then we'll talk!" I snapped.
"Moody?" I heard the Jack ask.
"It's the first time he has really snapped at any of us, but we've all noticed he glares from time to time." Dad answered. "He tends to be a very quiet person, happy to be on his own and be independent but it was odd behaviour even for him."
"Hmm." Jack hummed. "Well it might be stress, but I can't rule out several other causes. Okay Mr Tracy. May I call you John? It gets a bit confusing with four of you here!" Jack stated with a grin. I nodded my permission to use my first name. "Okay John, can I do a couple of tests?" I nodded with a small sigh. First he flicked a light in both my eyes, muttering in medical language. Then he listened to my heartbeat before doing a blood pressure test. " Alright John, I would like to take a blood sample and a urine sample to send to the lab. If you don't hear from us within a fortnight then it will most likely be stress." But the expression on everyone's faces stated they very much doubted it. "I'll arrange with the nurse to get you done as soon as possible." Jack reassured.
"Thank you Doctor Clarke." Dad answered, shaking his head. Jack proceeded to shake all our hands before we returned to the waiting room.
I was going to have a blood test.
I was going to have a huge freaking needle in my elbow sucking out my blood. I cringed. I hated needles. Even though I hadn't even had it done, the thought of having it done made me grip my elbows protectively. Scott rubbed my back soothingly, but I couldn't care less. I was going to have a freaking blood test.
I hate doctors.
I hate nurses.
And I especially hate needles!
"Mr John Tracy." I glanced up and shivered at the sight of a small blonde nurse. "Hello there, do you want to follow me?"
"Do you mind if we come in as well?" Dad asked standing up.
"No not at all." The nurse replied. Dad smiled and followed her, I walked behind him with Scott behind me, gripping my shoulder in support. Virgil followed behind us. "Hi, John. My name is Cathy. I'm going to ask you a few questions then collect a blood sample from you okay?"
"Okay." I was surprised I got that word out, I felt like my throat had closed up. Scott led me to the black seat, easily associable with blood tests, I sat down and glanced cautiously around the room easily catching sight of the needles and tubes in trays littered over the tables surface.
"Okay, what's your date of birth?"
"28/ 10/2041." I replied dutifully.
"Have you ever smoked or done drugs?"
"No."
"Do you have any prior illnesses or conditions that I should be made aware of?"
"Not that I know of."
Cathy stood with a small smile, she picked up a small stray and placed vials into it, I glanced away feeling the bile rising up my throat. God, I hated needles. "Okay, John, can you relax your arm for me." I tried to do as she said, but I let my right arm grip the chairs arm tightly. Why did my family have to bring me here? I would have been fine, eventually! I felt the woman place a belt around my arm and tighten it. "This will make it easier to draw blood." She explained.
"He doesn't like needles." Virgil explained, having been at the receiving end of John running and hiding when it was time for their annual jabs when they were kids.
"Alright then John. How about you tell me what you're doing at the moment. Are you at work?"
"I'm an astronaut." I replied, why did she have to try and make me talk. I didn't want to talk! Not when I knew what was happening next!
"An astronaut. Wow! That must be a great job!" She stated, I could hear that she was truly amazed but I couldn't care less. Just get it over and done with, or better yet, don't do it at all! "What do you do up there"?
Instead of answering, I stayed quiet, gritting my teeth as I felt the needle go in. God Damn It! Dad chose to answer for me. "He's a communications officer. He reads all the information and listens to the broadcasts, making sure the signals are strong and sent to the correct places, according to priority." I hissed as I felt the blood being drawn out, then there was a pop and a click. I couldn't concentrate, I was jumpy. It was taking all my will power not to flinch. I hate needles!
"You've done well." Cathy stated, I gasped as she pulled the needle out. That had hurt even more! She quickly placed a cotton wall ball onto the hole and pressed firmly before taping it on. "Well done. Now all I need is a urine sample and you can go." She handed me a vial with a screw cap and I immediately left to do what was requested. I didn't relax until we were in the air heading back to Tracy Island. I glared at anyone who tried to speak to me. I hated needles God Damn it!
I stalked to my room, ignoring my two younger brothers. That's it. I've had earnt a vacation! I'm staying right here, in my room for, well forever! I mentally sighed at my childish behaviour as I fell onto my bed. Sleep soon claimed me.
After the initial shock of the blood test, everything eventually went to normal. Gordon remained in the pool; Alan worked with Gordon for pranks, obsessed over Tin-Tin and cars. Scott was in the office with Dad and Virgil, although Scott and Virgil would come out and join Alan, Gordon and Tin-Tin in the pool. I was happy in my room, laying on my bed, sleeping and reading. Yes, life was pretty good at the moment.
And then it came.
"John!" I glanced up from my book. I left my room and walked into the kitchen, Scott was holding an off colour white envelope. I hesitantly took it and checked the return address. It was the doctors surgery. I was expecting them to take longer. I frowned. If they'd sent it in four days. They must have found something quite serious, to send word so quickly.
I skimmed quickly over the letter. They wanted me to go back. What! I only had that blood test four days ago! What the hell! What did they find? They had sent that letter quickly; it must mean they've found something serious or important.
Scott leant over and snatched the letter from my hand and read it before glancing at me. He passed it to Dad; I barely glanced around as the letter was passed around. What did they find why couldn't they just tell me outright? Why did they have to drag it on like some secret? Holy shit! I'm in trouble!
Dad wandered over to the phone and booked me another appointment for the next day. I sat down barely registering my brothers as they chatted. What was wrong with me? Why all the secrecy?
The night passed with a blur and soon I was back in the waiting room of the doctor's surgery, I fidgeted and began thinking. I've been sleepy; I've always had room for chocolate and none for real food. Could I have diabetes? Alan thought it might be thyroid. Now I really thought about it I was addicted to sugar and sleep. Did I really have diabetes?
A nurse wandered through. "Mr Tracy?" I nodded and stood. "You're the guy with Type 1 diabetes, right?" I froze what? I may have guessed I had diabetes but having it stated so bluntly, damn that hurt! The nurse looked at my shocked face and frowned. "You didn't know?"
"No." Dad answered as he gripped my elbow and led me behind the nurse to an office at the back of the building. I sat down in shock, the tears building in my eyes.
"Okay, John, I am going to take your blood and check it using this machine. I'm going to prick your finger and this machine tells me how much sugar you have in your blood."
"Okay." I muttered, barely making sense of it. I was diabetic! No! This had to be wrong! Wait! Prick my finger!
"It's a small needle that punctures the skin slightly. What we do is put the test strip in the machine, in the slot down at the bottom. It automatically switches on. I wait for it to ask for blood and then I press the end of the test strip to the blood and it reads how much sugar is in it. Alright."
"Okay." I shivered as she picked up a small pen and pressed it to the side of my thumb. She pressed the button and I felt a sharp pain. A small droplet of blood gathered on my skin and she pressed the test strip to it.
She frowned. "This is reading 26.6. That is very high John." She walked over to a small cupboard in the corner of the room. "Okay, John can I have a urine sample?" I sighed, nodding before disappearing into the toilet with a cup. When I returned she stuck a coloured stick into the cup, the stick went dark brown. "This means there is a high level of ketones in the blood. Basically, your urine is full of protein. What is happening is your body is not processing any food, instead it is processing the fat present in your body, making you lose weight." She explained. I nodded, not really understanding but wanting to get it over and done with. "You will have to go over to the hospital to see a diabetic nurse."
I could barely focus, I wanted to cry, and surely this was all wrong?
At the hospital they asked for another blood test, they tried the opposite arm since I'd already had a blood test from my left, but my vein wasn't visible and it was agony. They were forced to take another blood test from my left arm. Finally I met a young lady. Her name was Charlotte but she went by Lottie. Lottie talked very calmly and slowly, I breathed more carefully listening to what she was saying. I was expected to inject twice a day, one in the morning and one in the evening. Apparently there were two different types of insulin, fast acting and slow acting, but their official names flew right over my head. The fast and slow acting were mixed together, so I had to eat with every injection. She wanted me to inject. I couldn't do that! I cried, I was shaking, I couldn't.
Lottie took it in stride and asked me if I would like her to show me first. I nodded, pulling down my trousers so she could get to my thigh; I held my breath as she put the needle in. I close my eyes half way through and waited for the inevitable pain. "I'm done." I glanced down. The pen was against my skin. "Is it in?" She nodded and pulled it back in. I hadn't felt a thing!
Slowly I nodded and took the pen; nervously I stuck the pen in. It wasn't too hard but I hated it. The moment I had succeeded I pulled it back out. I was then told what to do and how to do it was given Lottie's phone number and sent home. It was all over very quickly and yet my mind was still back at the reception in the doctor's surgery, remembering how I instinctually knew it was diabetes, then having it confirmed so bluntly.
The moment I arrived back on the island, everyone was asking questions. I just wanted them to go away. Dinner was fast approaching, my first official injection. Dammit I couldn't, I didn't want to! I heard Dad calmly explaining the situation. My brothers were silent, I sobbed silently to myself. When dinner was called, I pulled out my new items and set them up but I couldn't bring myself to inject. I shook crying.
Dad came in and sat next to me. "If you don't want to do it you don't have to it's your body."
"I have no choice, do I, if I don't I'll become really sick!" I answered my voice full of tears. I couldn't focus, I knew I had to do it, but I couldn't. I didn't want to.
Dad left, telling me that maybe him watching was putting me off, but even after he was gone I couldn't. I sat for five minutes, listening to my family eat and talk. I wanted to eat and I wanted to be normal, but I couldn't like this. I just. I just had to inject.
Taking a deep, watery breath, I slowly pushed the needle in; it didn't hurt as much as I thought it did. Lottie was more experienced then me so it hadn't hurt at all, but with my hands shaking and the fact I had stuck it in slowly, I was surprised it didn't badly hurt. I pushed the plunger down, before I lost my courage, the feel of liquid pushing into my body stung and I hissed. Perhaps next time I'll do that a little slower? I counted to ten and pulled the needle out. The wound stung slightly. But it was over.
Taking a calming breath and wiping away the tears, I joined my family outside. They smiled at me and Dad asked if I'd done it. I nodded and eagerly tucked into some food. I still wasn't overly hungry but my family were glad to see me eat.
I smiled a small smile at my family as they all gave me grins of pride, I just wanted them to stop staring at me. I may have managed to do it tonight but there was still tomorrow.
And the rest of my life.
A/N:- This is written from my perspective but I would love to hear your experiences or stories you've heard.
I know at the moment it is quite sad and angsty, I stated in the disclaimer that I want to give hope to all diabetics, but I can't sugar coat the angst that I've experienced either. Diabetes isn't what I've asked for but I've got to live with it and I'm not going to let it take over my life and I'm hoping this story can prove that we can all control our diabetes and live like normal people.
Kelral Orlyana
P.S:- I am reposting these chapters with slight changes... I've put the disclaimer and summary on the top of chapter one instead of in a seperate chapter of its own.