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Can't We Get a Jordan?
I don't need a diabetes-sniffing medical alert dog. I just need Jordan.
Jordan, an 18-year-old kid who ran the ice hockey camp Charlie attended last week, was absolutely amazing.
And I'd like to adopt him. If possible.
Every time Charlie skated away from the pack and made his way to the bench, Jordan was close behind, plopping himself heavily down beside Charlie. He watched while Charlie pricked his finger and picked up supplies that would inevitably fall onto the black rubber floor.
When I had trouble understanding Charlie through the thick Plexiglas, Jordan stepped right in and wrote 66 with his finger on the foggy glass and awaited instruction.
"Two," I motioned with my fingers. In another situation; in a not so emergency situation; I may have just been making a friendly gesture. "Peace."
But these were not peaceful times.
While Charlie drained the first juice box, Jordan readied the second, taking it out of the diabetes bag and inserting the straw. Then he sat and waited out the low with Charlie.
"We need you here the whole week this time," I could see hear Jordan saying to Charlie, referring to last year when Charlie's time at camp was cut short by a visit to the ER.
Can't we get a Jordan??? Can't we??? I promise I'll feed him and I'll walk him and I'll love him forever!
Megan was diagnosed in 2009 with Type I. As an RN, she was familiar with the medical side of her diagnosis; learning to be a good patient on the other hand, was and continues to be the challenge of her day to day life. (Read More)