It was Thanksgiving day 2008 and I was in the children’s ICU in Missoula, Montana, sitting in a hospital bed with my parents nearby. I had just been diagnosed with type one diabetes two days prior and was awaiting to be discharged so I could go watch my beloved Cowboys play and eat some pumpkin pie with family and friends. I was only twelve years old, I was in the middle of the seventh grade, I had no idea who I was or who I was going to be or what I wanted to do with my future, and I definitely had no idea how I was going to survive with my new diagnosis.

When you are that young and diagnosed with a disease like diabetes, a lot of the information and instructions are actually given to your parents; this was my situation. In addition to myself, my parents were also educated on how to count my carbs, make sure I was given the correct amount of insulin so that I didn’t wind back up in the ER, and what to do if I was too high or low. I was twelve, I didn’t know what any of this meant. The only thing I knew was that I would be stabbing myself with a needle several times a day, and I didn’t want to do that. My parents were by my side that day and stuck by as I got older. My parents kept me on track and reminded me daily on what I needed to be doing.

As I grew up and accepted the fact that I would have diabetes for most of my life if not for the rest of it, I kept up to date with the newest technology to help me better control my diabetes, became more comfortable sharing my story with anyone who asked, but I also became more independent — or so I thought. In my later teenage years I wanted my parents help but didn’t at the same time. I wanted to do everything myself but knew it that wasn’t ideal. If it wasn't for my parents and their incessant “nagging” to take care of myself, I don’t know where I would be today.

I said I thought I was independent back then, but I really wasn’t. It wasn’t until I came to college and my parents weren’t with me every day to keep me on track that I realized how much it took to keep it all under control. I wasn’t aware of how much effort it took from my parents to help me through life with my diabetes. I never had to go to the pharmacy before, my mom did that. I never had to wake up in the middle of the night to check my blood sugar, my dad did that. It really seemed as if I didn’t have to do anything myself. I was completely dependent on my parents’ assistance.

Once I started college, that’s when I really became independent. Now I refill my prescriptions. I wake up in the middle of the night to check my blood sugars. I schedule my own doctor’s appointments. I became independent of my diabetes because my parents were no longer here to look over my shoulder or do it all for me but that doesn’t change the fact that my parents are still a phone call away if I need any help at all. My parents are still the supportive people that sat by my hospital bed eight years ago.

College gives everyone their own independence in all sorts of different ways. My college experience gave me mine in a way that completely changed my life. It wasn’t as simple as going to the grocery store or doing my own laundry, but quite literally a potential life or death situation. So mom and dad, thank you for everything you have done and continue to do for me, especially in the last eight years. I cannot thank you enough for teaching me the things I needed to know to become the independent person I am today. Thank you for letting me be independent in every way while away at college but more importantly, thank you for still standing by my side just like you did in that ICU eight years ago.