My diabetes diagnosis story continued- the worst part

 Just about 2 months after I was diagnosed my youngest brother, Steven, got sick. My mom was worried about him cause he was throwing up and couldn't hold anything down, just like I was when I was diagnosed with diabetes. So my mom took him to the ER. They kept him overnight. My other 2 brothers and I stayed with a friend that night. In the morning we went to see my mom and steven in the hospital and waited for Steven to be discharged. We waited and waited. Then a police officer appeared in the doorway with a lady. I didn't know what was going on. But my mom was holding Steven tighter. He was only a year and a half old and still nursing. After the lady talked to my mom for a few minutes, my mom handed Steven to our older brother, Tim. Then the police officer stepped into the room and took Tim, carrying Steven, and my other brother, Daniel, and me. We were taken out to a police car in the parking lot. I didn't know what was happening but I didn't want to go. 

They took us to this place called a "Receiving Home." I called it "The Bad Place." We were there for nine very long days. I still didn't know what was going on.

While we were there, we were forced to eat meat that we were not supposed to eat like pork. We didn't eat pork due to our religious beliefs. My brother, Tim, was forced to eat certain dairy products even though he was lactose intolerant. They would make us sit at the table till our plates were clean. Steven would be put in a crib during "quiet time" and left to just scream and cry the whole time. I wasn't allowed to pick him up and hold him, even when he was sick and throwing up. They put him in a high chair and let him scream and cry and throw up on himself, and I couldn't do anything to comfort him. I can still hear those screams even to this day.

One time when they were trying to give Steven a bath he refused to let them wash his hair, they had me come in to wash him. That was the only time I got to act like his big sister while we were there. One of the others boys that was there tried to push my brother, Daniel, down some stairs into the basement. Another boy there threw a toy car and hit me in the head with it. That same boy bit Steven on his bottom, through a cloth diaper, left bite marks on him that lasted at least a year.

At one point when I was refusing to take my insulin, they decided to send me to spend some time with a friend from my moms church. I think I was there for only a day or two. But I remember when I was leaving "The Bad Place" I didn't know when I would see my brothers again. I cried and Daniel cried. But I did return to them. 

When I continued refusing to take my insulin they decided to send us back home to our mom. I remember them giving me a cloth bag of some kind to put my thing into and they told me we're going home. I got so excited. We pulled up in front of our house and my mom came out the front door and came to hug us. She said Steven gave her look like he was asking where she had been. I was just happy we were back home with her. 

A few months after all this, my mom decided to move us to Florida, where her parents lived.

Stay tuned for more.