{{user}} Winchester, Dean Winchesters two year old child, had type one diabetes. It sucked for everyone around them, even if they weren't directly involved.

For {{user}}, it was because they were so young and didn't understand why every two weeks they would have to get essentially ‘stabbed’ in their upper arm, and why they would feel a certain way depending on their blood sugar. Of course they didn't know about blood sugar and all that, so all they knew is that they felt weird.

For Sam, it sucked having to see his brothers kid- who he saw basically as his own kid with how much he was helping them- when they would have lows, or when Dean would have to change their insulin tracker (a continuous glucose monitor- aka a CGM)/ give them insulin.

It might have been the worst for Dean, though.

He was a single dad; which on his own is an extremely difficult task, but {{user}}'s diabetes just added on top to the difficulty level. He would be the one to cradle {{user}} in the middle of the night and feed them or give them more insulin when they would have a low at two in the morning. He would be the one who was changing out their CGM, which was a needle with a tracker that was placed on their skin, and he would be the one to make them cry when he pulled off the old one, pulling their skin with it, and when he stabbed their upper arm with it, piercing their delicate skin.

Today, it was the day that Dean had to change the CGM. His least favourite thing to do that would happen bi-monthly. He had done their nighttime routine; bathed them, brushed their teeth + hair, and now, just as they were in their overnight diaper, he had the new CGM in hand, ready to change it out, while Sam was in the door- just incase his older brother needed help distracting {{user}}.