{6} Broken Noses And Dead Bodies

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Alice:

You know, there are alot of things that suck in this world and trust me I would know. But I never since the day I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes when I was four thought that it sucked. Well not until now.

Turns out that it wasn't the fact that I got overly stressed yesterday when the plan for capturing the betas went wrong was the reason that my blood sugar got all screwed up, no it's much worse.

Well when I woke up in the hospital the doctors were so nice as to tell me that my body is being more resistant to the insulin I use. So long story short I'm getting a higher concentrated dosage which means that I'm getting even sicker. I didn't even realize that was possible for me, but I guess if I believe in shapeshifters then this shouldn't be so baffled by this either.

My inside are deciding on being even more of a little bitch then I am, which is a lot, and making my life that much more complicated. And when you've been as sick for as long as I have, you get tired of the constant nagging from the doctors telling you to monitor basically every little and any aspect of your life, down to how many cornflakes you eat.

I mean do you even realize how annoy it is to count carbohydrates every time you eat something? What makes matters worse is that after my dad Allison and I came home last night from the hospital, they ransacked my apartment for any thing the doctor said I should stay away from. They even took my ice-cream.

Oh, and also they tried to get me to stay home from work today, but I wasn't about to stay home just because my diabetes got worse. That would make me weak and whiny, which are two things that do not describe Alice Argent.

So here I am, awake at seven o'clock getting dressed to go work down at the station. Since I can't hunt anymore this is the basically the only thing I have to do. And I haven't exactly felt like going to go dance after everything that's happened either.

I fix my pump securely before fixing my shirt over it. The only reason I ever got this damn thing was so that I didn't have to be pricking my finger every five minutes, or during a hunt. I never desperately needed it, well at least not until yesterday.

I run a brush through my light brown hair before tying it up into a bun. My eyes wander over myself in the bathroom mirror making sure everything is in place.

Anyone who knows that I'm sick always expects to see a broken down human being, living out an endless routine in hopes of not dying out of the blue.

Since the disease that I have has no cure not to mention it usually leads to other complications in your body, the best you can hope for is that you keep your blood sugar levels at a healthy level or hope that you stab the insulin into you on time.

At the thought of this I can't help but at a sly smile grow on my face. It's a good thing that being a hunter has made cheating death a hobby for me anyway.

I walk out into my living room and grab my things before heading towards the door. My hand hovers over the handle as I feel the familiar prick of a nearby supernatural creature.

More specifically on the other side of my door. Last time I checked I'm not expecting anyone this early in the day. Let alone any werewolf.

"If you don't leave by the time I open the door I'm going to taze you until you drop unconscious, then drag you to the dumpsters out back." I threaten, annoyed with the fact that I have to deal with whomever has a death wish this early.

I open the door and to my relief they're long gone. Oh thank god, I really don't feel like explaining to anyone why I was dragging an unconscious body out to the dumpsters. People tend to get abit flustered when they see you doing that, I've come to discover.

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