Chapter 12

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Jenna's POV

We brought Samantha home the morning after we'd rushed her to the hospital.

The first thing I did with her was change the bedding in her room and help her put away the clothes we'd bought.

"We can paint the room, if you want," I said. Right now, it was sort of beige and gold.

"Um. That's okay. For now, I guess," she said. She still wasn't sure she'd be staying with us long. Frankly, we weren't sure either.

"Okay, so, we have bedding all done, fresh clean sheets in the closet, your clothes are put away. What should we do now?"

"I'm," she started. "Um, I'm kinda hungry."

"Oh! Okay, let's go find something to eat. What are you in the mood for?"

"Just a sandwich," she said.

"Okay, I can do that. What kind of sandwich are you in the mood for."

She looked away as if she'd be in trouble for her choice.

"Peanut butter and jam?"

"Okay. Let's test your sugar, see where you're at and do your insulin. The proper amount, right?"

"Right," she said quietly.

We went down to the kitchen and Samantha pulled out her kit. She tested her sugar which read 80.

"Is that good?" I asked.

"Yep. About where it should be when I haven't eaten in a bit. Can I see the jam you have? I have to figure out the carbs for that. Peanut butter and bread I know," she said.

"We have strawberry, raspberry and grape. Which would you prefer?"

She looked at me like I'd told her the only jam we had was made from imported berries from some exotic locale.

"Uh... can I try the grape? I've only ever had raspberry."

I laughed.

"Of course," I said, pulling the jar out of the fridge. As well as the bread and peanut butter from the cupboard.

I watched as Samantha read the label and started calculating. She pulled out the insulin pen, attached a needle to it and dialled it to the dose she needed. I watched carefully. She dialled a few units and then her hand started shaking.

"Is that the right dose?" I asked.

She shook her head and tears started falling.

"My dad never let me take the right amount. I'm scared to turn it to the right dose," she said.

"Oh, sweetie. It's okay. I promise. Go ahead. You'll see. Nothing is going to happen,"

I watched as she took a deep breath and shakily turned the dial a few more units.

"Is that it?"

"No. I need two more units, but I can't get my hand to turn it," she cried.

"Okay. Take your time. I'll get your sandwich ready, and once you have the right dose, you can eat."

I watched carefully as I spread the peanut butter and jam on the bread. Samantha took a deep breath and added two more units.

"Good job. See? The world did not come crashing down," I smiled at her as she injected the insulin into her stomach.

"Now, you take that one at mealtimes, but what about this one?" I asked, pulling a box out of the fridge.

"That's long acting. I take that at bedtime. Twenty units, I think is what I'm supposed to take."

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