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.