DECEMBER 3

I drifted in and out of sleep, having a hard time focusing on what was going on around me. I remembered Pappy helping me into the hospital and explaining to the nearest nurse what had happened. I remembered being put in a bed in the pediatrics ward - because I was under eighteen - and having two IVs hooked up to my arms. I remembered Mom and Dad rushing into my room. And Mamie. Mamie had been with them. Aunt Maddie had come in at some point, wearing scrubs. She did work in the hospital, in the pediatrics ward, so that wasn't too surprising.

Finally, I was able to focus enough that I could hear Mom and Mamie talking quietly. Maybe they were hoping not to wake me up. "Maybe if we used our magic together," Mom said, and I could hear the desperation in her voice. She'd been crying. "It might work. It didn't work when I tried to use the magic on my own, but maybe we can heal him, together. We both have strong magic. It might -"

"Mackenzie," Mamie cut in gently, "you and I both know that no amount of magic can fix this. Magic can't fix something that's been destroyed."

Destroyed? That couldn't be good. That really couldn't be good.

I sat up, slowly, opening my eyes as I did so. Ugh. I was wearing a hospital gown and bracelet. So I'd actually been admitted. Which probably meant that I was going to have to stay overnight. I didn't understand why I had two IVs, though. Didn't they usually just use one? "What…" I trailed off, clearing my throat. My mouth was dry. "What are you talking about? What's wrong with me?" I whispered. I didn't feel quite as tired as I had earlier, and I was able to think more clearly. But I still wasn't quite back to myself yet. I still felt off.

Mom rushed to my side, caressing my forehead. "Stryker, little man. How are you feeling?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. Her own eyes were full of tears and red and puffy, confirming my earlier suspicion. She'd definitely been crying. She'd been crying for some time, it looked like. "Mom. What's wrong with me? Why won't magic fix it?"

She sighed. "The doctor has diagnosed you with type one diabetes. They're waiting for the results of a test to make absolute certain, but he's pretty sure. After Pappy told them some of your symptoms, they tested your bloodsugar. It was over four-hundred, which is really high. And it's probably been pretty high for a while now. They've been pumping you full of fluids to try to flush some of the excess sugar out of your system. And they've got you on insulin, which should bring your bloodsugar back down."

This had to be a dream. She couldn't really be saying…I couldn't actually have… "Diabetes? I thought only people who were overweight got that."

Mom shook her head. "Type two is common in overweight and obese people, but type one is more common in kids and teens, according to the doctor. Type one is…It's most likely an autoimmune disorder. Basically, they think that your own immune system attacked the cells in your pancreas that create insulin, and destroyed those cells. That's why magic won't heal you. Your pancreas is…Well, it's pretty much dead, Stryk. Magic can't bring back something that's dead, especially when it was destroyed by your own body. Magic can't really heal you from yourself."

I leaned back against my pillows, sighing. I closed my eyes. Diabetes? I had freaking diabetes?

Mom was stroking my forehead again. "I'm so sorry, Stryker. I'm sorry I can't fix this for you. Magic can be so wonderful sometimes, and then it can be so completely useless other times."

"It's not your fault, Mom."

"I know, I know it's not, but I just can't stand not being able to do anything. And type one diabetes isn't something that's ever going to go away. Your pancreas is never going to work properly again. You're going to have to deal with this for the rest of your life."

I gulped. As pathetic as it was, I was trying not to cry. I was trying really hard not to cry. "This sucks." That was the understatement of the century.

"It does," Mamie agreed. She slipped her hand into mine, squeezing gently.

"They want to keep you overnight, at least. Probably tomorrow night, too," Mom told me. "They won't release you until they can get your bloodsugar back into a normal range, and they won't release you until you've had some training for controlling your diabetes. And since you're still a minor, your dad and I have to do the training, too."

I scowled. "Will I have to take shots?" I'd heard that people with diabetes had to take shots.

I opened my eyes just in time to see my mom grimace. She knew I wasn't going to like the answer. "Yes, you will," she said.

My scowl deepened.

I hated needles.

"How often?"

"Four times a day, probably."

"Ugh." This just kept getting worse and worse.

"The rest of the family is out in the waiting room," Mamie told me. "Alex and your father went out there to let them all know what was going on. The doctor was just in here, explaining it all to us. Your friends are here, too. And Jonathan. Do you want me to bring any of them in?"

"No!" I shook my head. "No. I'm still…"

"Not feeling your best?" Mamie guessed.

"Not really. I mean, I feel better than I did earlier. A lot better. But I'm still kind of out of it. And I think I need a chance to…get used to it before I visit with anyone else. If that's okay." I looked at my mom, hoping she would understand. I needed some time to myself. I was starting to lose the battle against the tears, and I really didn't want anyone to be around to see me cry. I was sure I was going to look like a pathetic loser any minute. I'd rather not have an audience for that.

Mom smiled sadly. She totally understood. "Of course it's okay. This is a lot to take in. I'm sure everyone will understand. I'll have everyone come back tomorrow morning, okay? After you've had a chance to rest up."

I nodded.

Mom leaned down and kissed my forehead. "We'll get through this, Stryker."

I nodded again.

Then she and Mamie walked out of the room, leaving me alone to cry.

It took me a little while to decide what medical issue to have Stryker deal with. I decided on type one diabetes for a couple of reasons. 1) I actually know a lot about it. I've had it since I was seven years old. I just turned twenty-four, so it's been a huge part of most of my life. I don't remember much of the beginning part, when I was first diagnosed. I would imagine that it's going to be more difficult for Stryker to get used to, since he's seventeen. I was seven. Sure, it was a life-changer for me, but at that age, just about everything is a life-changer. 2) There are a lot of misconceptions out there about diabetes. I don't know if any of you know anything about it, but now you'll get a chance to learn. 3) It's something that doesn't have to ruin someone's life - if it's taken care of. It's something that a person can learn to live with, and to live a pretty normal life. I wanted to give Stryker something that changes his world. And yet doesn't change his world, if that makes any sense at all.

P.S. I hope none of you guys get squeamish reading about needles. They will be mentioned.

I'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this. And I'm wondering if anyone guessed what it might have been, based off of the symptoms he was experiencing.