…and it seems to be about 35 minutes. That’s the distance that both my son and I consider to be a comfortable distance for me to be away from him. As with most things you really never know something until you are forced to experience it.
Back when my son was first diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, while I never left his side because I was his only main caregiver, I don’t think I had a limit. I fondly recall going to another state about an hour away overnight early on in diagnosis. Yes, I was worried. Yes, I slept with my cellphone. Yes, I did not have the best time of my life, but I did it. We did it.
Then came the night of the dinner party. A big-person, adult-only dinner party. Now as the mom of two children 22 months apart, big-person, adult-only are not very common themes, but nonetheless, my husband and I were indeed acting like big people having dinner and a few drinks. Then came the phone call.
The phone call that ended my night of big-person, adult-only fun. It was my mom on the phone. She was watching my son. I could end this blog post right here, as most of you can formulate your own story of what can happen to a child with Type 1 diabetes that would require a phone call from the sitter to the mom, but I will continue.
My son’s sugar was dropping and even though the proper treatment of glucose was given it was still dropping and dropping fast. I remember the night like it was yesterday even though it was well over 2 years ago.
I left the party and began to drive home the 25 minute ride with my Bluetooth in my ear. The conversation went something like this:
Me: What’s going on?
Them: He was just 55. We are giving him candy but he won’t chew.
Me: Give him something that he can drink.
Them: We are trying to give him soda but he is saying he just can’t drink anymore.
Background from them: I think he’s tired and he wants to go to sleep.
Me. (Screaming) NO! NO! Do not let him go to sleep! Give him anything!!
Them: (Nervous) Ok, we have syrup and we’re putting it in a syringe (to shove in his mouth).
Background: Noise. Whispering.
Me: (Screaming) Is he awake?!?! Is he ok?!?! What is he doing?!?!
Them: (Loudly) Yes, he’s awake still. He’s taking the syrup. Ok. He’s good. Ok. Ok.
Me: (Screaming) Is he still ok?!?!
Meanwhile I am driving through city streets at top speed, slowing down just enough at red lights so they will turn green while I am still moving and revving it through yellow lights so they don’t turn red on me. I am screaming into the phone because they have the phone on speaker so I can barely make out what anyone is saying. Or if they are talking to me, or each other or my son.
Me: Is he still awake?!?!
Them: (Calmer) Yes, he’s awake. He’s drinking now.
We hang up the phone.
I cry. And cry. And cry.
On so many levels that night was so unfair. To absolutely everyone involved. A child should never feel like sleeping (passing out) because his blood sugar has dropped too low and won’t come back up. Grandparents should never feel fear of watching their grandchild pass out because they can’t get his sugar up. A mother should not race through city streets trying to get to her son for fear that this low may be the low that he never wakes up from.
So yes, I have my limits now. And they will remain until, well, I don’t really know how long they will remain, but surely long enough for both of us to feel safe.
This has happened to me, though I was seizing and I was with my 17 and 13 year old brothers. They panicked calling my mum and the ambulance. My mum arrived panicking, shoving juice down my throat; not thinking. I was wheeled into the ambulance and that was the worst day of mum and I’s life. We didn’t know if I had brain damage, if I would ever regain normal brain function. I passed out and remained non-cognitive for 9 hours. That was the luckiest day of my life as well and I cant express how happy my mum was afterwards, she was ecstatic. I ended up going home the next day.
Thank you so much for reading Eugenie. I am so sorry for your daughter’s diagnosis. This is a tough disease to live with especially if you are doing it all alone. Your daughter should be able to eat whatever she wants, she can get insulin to cover any and all carbs so there should be any time when she can’t have seconds or cookies. You could talk to your endo about that. I chose not to call my son, the diabetic, for fear that that will be the only way he sees himself. He is a little boy who has diabetes. He is not the disease that he has. You should visit http://www.type1parents.org they are a group of parents of kids with T1. They supported me for these last four years and I know you will feel the same support if you stop by. I am gsmama over on that site. Hope to see you there and I wish you the best.
Leslie
My 10-year-old daughter was diagnosed with Type 1 nine weeks ago. I have been raising her and her 8-year-old sister on my own since their father and I split while the younger child was still in utero.
I can honestly say, this has been the hardest 2 months of my life – not only in working full-time and being a mother, housekeeper, chef, chauffeur, nurse, laundress, tutor, coach, cheerleader, nanny, and accountant – but having to add full-time pancreas and reluctant in-home diabetes expert to the list… and right as school and extracurriculars were really coming into full swing. Basketball practice, dance class, soccer games…. nevermind that she’s always been an intensely active, tree-climbing, bike-riding tomboy.
I had been entertaining the idea of maybe starting to date again… nine years on my own seemed like long enough. Then this bombshell dropped. I can’t ask a teenager to come sit with my children knowing he/she will have to take blood sugars and draw insulin, and give injections, and know how to handle a high or a low. My mother and sister are both nearby – and both nurses – but I couldn’t ask them to watch my kids every weekend and take care of my little diabetic so I can go out gallavanting around the countryside with some random man.
Even the men I might date – can I ask another human being to sacrifice their time, their lives, their sanity, and their diet for the benefit of my child? I have a rule in my house – if the diabetic can’t have it, neither can anyone else. Meaning, if her meal plan says she gets 4 servings of carbs and 3 servings of protein for dinner, EVERYONE gets 4 servings of carbs and 3 servings of protein for dinner. No one gets seconds. I don’t make enough for seconds so the temptation isn’t there. If I allow her 2 cookies, everyone else is allowed 2 cookies, but no one is allowed 3 cookies. I just don’t think it’s fair to say, “Oh, you’re not diabetic, here… you have all you want. You? No! You ARE diabetic.. you can’t have what everyone else has. Sucks to be you.” I can’t look in those big blue eyes and do that. But is it pretentious of me to expect someone new in my life to follow those rules? I guess the bottom line is it’s easier to stay single. She (and her sister) are the most important relationship of my life. And the dog is always willing to snuggle at night. 🙂
I’m sorry to write a novel. I’m still crying over your post. I can’t imagine the fear of something going wrong and, as the mother, not being there at that exact moment. I check my daughter’s blood sugar at midnight and 3am every single night. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since her diagnosis and I don’t look for that to change anytime soon. Or ever, maybe. She’s handling things like a pro, but here I sit – worried, terrified, and lonely… no one understands, no one even calls to see how things are going. I feel like I’ve aged 20 years in the last 2 months. I feel like it’s me against the world.
And we’ve only just begun.
I cried while I read this…. Our lives will never be the same in D’s in it. Nobody likes the resposibility of watching him, so he is my shadow!! Even his preschool rather send a teather to our house. Ugh best wishes to you and yours!
Thanks for reading Terra. I wish you and your son the best!
Leslie
i have had that happen to my son before as well, it is scary! So glad he is ok!