Jazmine 

Beginning of January 2008, I started to get sick. I lost weight, almost fifteen pounds. I was very pale and no matter how much sleep I got, it was getting harder and harder to get up for seminary. For the first time in my life, I struggled to stay awake in class. I had trouble pushing myself through the basic warm-ups in Weight Training, which had always been easy. Track season was creeping up and I was worried. I was losing the strength that I had had, as I watched my max lifts drop. I was no longer as fast as I had been, as I saw my running times increase and I could do nothing about it. Clearly something was wrong, but I tried not to think about it and trudged on, believing that I would eventually make it through what I hoped to be a temporary phase. Unfortunately, it kept getting worse, as my health continued to decline. I felt so weak all the time. I was constantly hungry and thirsty and I could not satisfy my body. I tried to change my eating habits, hoping with more nutritional food, it would give me a boost, but my condition did not change.
Finally a month later in mid-February, I really began to pray. I realize now that the reason I held off so long was because the thought of praying for help was an act of submission, admitting that something was, indeed wrong with me. It scared me. This time of year usually was an exciting time for me because of the start of track season. But for a reason I could not understand, I found myself dreading it. During the week before track started I was told by my Weight Training teacher that I should go see a doctor. He had suspected something was off, but now was sure of it. I was genuinely surprised. He seemed to have picked up on it before I had. By that time, friends had also started to voice their concerns. My parents, having known my struggles, made an appt. to see the doctor. On Feb 27, I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. My blood sugar tested above what the machine could read which meant I was well over 700. For those of you who don’t know, the normal range for the average teen is anywhere between 90 and 130. The doctors were surprised I hadn’t passed out on the track yet.
The next few days went by in a blur and I was told that the chances of me running track were slim. I never ceased to pray as I struggled to understand my new life and to control my disease. I prayed for strength and understanding, and that I would be able to accept this trial.
Brothers and Sisters, I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt, I would not have made it through those hard days and weeks, without prayer. During those first crucial days, when it seemed unbearable, I knelt down and prayed. Every time I did, I was able to get back up and look ahead with more strength.
The Doctors were amazed at my progression and attitude. Within 72 hours my blood sugar had dropped to 126. I remember writing in my journal that everyone had finally stopped pitying me, when they realized I wasn’t going to be discouraged by the diagnosis. Heavenly father was with me and I still prayed continually. Within two weeks after being diagnosed, I was back on the track. It wasn’t an easy season for me. I had to monitor myself very carefully and I called on Heavenly Father many times for extra strength before I ran.