Category: Uncategorized

Another school year. This is our FIFTH school year starting with Type 1 diabetes. And let me tell you, it DOES NOT get any easier. Sure when my son was diagnosed just 1 month before starting preschool I had a different set of fears than I do now that he is starting 3rd grade, but the fears are still as strong and very real.

I fear the obvious.

That some adult will drop the ball on helping my son care for his diabetes and his number will go too low and have a seizure. Or that he will go low on the way to the bathroom and he will pass out and it will be a while before someone even notices that he is not where he is supposed to be. Or that he will go low on the bus to or from school and no one will notice that he is passed out until they get to their destination.

That’s not all.

I fear that he will have an uncovered snack or pump failure that no one notices and his number will go sky high and he will get ketones and start on his way to DKA (google it). Or that his number will be marginally high and he will not be able to think clearly during a test or quiz.

Even more.

I fear that the kids that used to ignore my son’s diabetes will now decide that having diabetes is reason enough to be picked on, ostracized, and bullied. Or that my son will start to think that he is indeed different and begins a pattern of resentment and hatred for something that he cannot get rid of. I fear that my son will get tired of checking his sugar before meals and snacks at school and will rebel against the necessary means to keep him alive.

And.

I fear that every time the phone rings with the special ring from school that it is the school nurse calling telling me that my son’s number has dropped so low that he passed out and broke his nose from the fall. Or that he had a seizure in gym class. Or that he just tested himself and his sugar was 50 and he is crying that he wants to come home.

Or.

I fear that he gets a teacher that knows someone with Type 2 diabetes and goes into a short lesson on how if my son would just eat right and exercise he could get rid of his diabetes like her 65 year old overweight Uncle did last year. Or that the teacher would deny my son a classroom treat even though it is clearly stated that he is allowed to have any and all snacks as long as he receives insulin for it.

I could go on. And on. And on.

You get the point.

180 days until summer vacation.

Go to hell. Four years ago you came uninvited into our home. Into my then 4 year old son’s little body. You continue to stick around even though we despise you. You are relentless.

You are absolutely unwelcome, yet you stay, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. You refuse to take a break. You hijack our vacations, our day trips to the beach, our days at amusement parks and our time at the library. You have  a free ride to our community pool even though I tried not to buy you your own badge. I try to deny you, leave you in the car, throw you on the side of the road, but you remain. Relentless.

You sneak in places like the shower and the bathroom. Places where a now 8 year old boy is certainly looking for some privacy. How do you have carte blanche to areas of my son’s life that only he should know about?

You are a night owl. I know this because you seem to work overtime making sure my son’s numbers drop really low or shoot really high while he is sleeping. While he is sleeping for God’s sake. You don’t even have respect for what should be the most peaceful time of a child’s day.

You try to ruin school plays, and recess, and parties for birthdays. You try to make travelling difficult, getting babysitters  a chore, and going to the mall an interesting event. I say you try because, you, diabetes will NEVER ever win.

If I have to tend to you while my son sleeps, or goes to a party, or goes swimming, or takes a shower, for the next 20 years, I will. I will never let you win. My son will continue to live his life to the fullest no matter how hard you try. You can pull out the stops, the highs, the lows, the ketones, whatever and I will be there. You will hate me as much as I hate you, you can believe that. You picked the wrong family to invade.

My son couldn’t care less about you. Yes we manage you to shut you up, but you are just that, something we deal with because we have to. You will never be the center of our lives, you will never be the guest of honor at a party, you will never take over anything and be foremost in any situation. I won’t even ask how you are. I don’t care. You chose to come here now you will take a back seat and shut up as my son goes on to live a happy and healthy life.

So it’s been 4 years. I can honestly say I hate you more as I get to know you. I feared you in the beginning, but you are nothing to be afraid of. In fact, diabetes, you should be very afraid of me. Every trick and turn you make, I will be there. You will not win. Like I already said, you can go to hell.

You, diabetes, are relentless, but I…I am a mother.

Sincerely,

The Mama

Parents’ of children with Type 1 diabetes instinctively know where the title ‘wetting the bed’ is going. When a child with Type 1 diabetes wets the bed it usually means that their blood sugar is too high and their body is trying to excrete the excess sugar through the urine. They wet the bed simply because it is too much too fast. They either can’ t wake up in time, or because it is so out of the norm for them to wet the bed they didn’t even have a notion of what was actually going on.

In our case, prior to my son’s diagnosis he started wetting the bed. He started about 5 days before his actual diagnosis. He wet the bed once a night for a few nights. During the night before his diagnosis he wet the bed no less than 5 times. At diagnosis the next day his sugar was over 1200 (normal being 100) so it is clear to see why his body was expelling so much urine. The amount of sugar in his blood was suffocating his cells and he was dying. His body recognized that something was wrong and tried with all it’s might to make things right.

I’m not sure if you know our diagnosis story. The abbreviated version is my son started wetting the bed and drinking a lot, I started researching diabetes, I demanded a urine test at his 4 year old check up, and the rest is history. Our story is here http://s782639264.onlinehome.us/?p=174 if you want to read it.

The title of this post, however, is not about my son, it is about my daughter. My newly minted 6 year old who does not have Type 1 diabetes. My healthy, beautiful, energetic, sassy 6 year old daughter wet the bed the other night and the only thing I could think of was…diabetes. I skipped over the fact that she took a cough medicine that could have made her extra tired, I skipped over the fact that she could have forgotten to pee before she got into bed that night, I skipped over the fact that she could have been dreaming about the ocean. I skipped all the reasons a mom without any children with diabetes would think of. I went right to it. Right to diabetes. Right to another diagnosis.

She doesn’t have diabetes…for now.

After I cleaned her up, and put her snug in her bed, I did check her sugar. It was perfect. I did breathe a sigh of relief…for that moment.

That one moment in time when my daughter does not have diabetes.

In my heart, and gut, I am waiting for the other diagnosis. I don’t know for sure of course, but along those lines, I don’t know for sure one is never coming either. I am always in a state of waiting. Waiting if she will be diagnosed, or waiting if she won’t. People are diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes well into their 50s so the waiting will never end for me.

Every time she eats too much…I hold my breath.

Every time she pees too much…I wait.

Every time she asks for 2 drinks in a row…I worry.

Diabetes permeates your heart and soul even when you work 24 hours a day pretending that it doesn’t.