Our sweetie pies

Our sweetie pies

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

almost a year

It has been almost a year now, since our sweetie in the middle of the picture there, was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. juvenile diabetes. a permanent condition. insulin dependent. an autoimmune disease.

This time last year, our little 3 year old was slowing down. she would often lay down on the floor and rest during play time. She was starting to wet her bed again, even though she had potty trained for quite awhile. She had a lot of trouble peddling her bike on walks. She was beginning to feel light when I carried her. She was getting quieter and quieter.

One day, a friend came over and during my friend's visit, our sweetie ran to tell me that she needed to go to the bathroom three different times and each time had an accident. I told our friend that our sweetie had been having trouble making it to the toilet lately. I thought it was strange but didn't know why. We agreed it would be good for the doctor to check her out. I thought maybe it could be a bladder infection. I had never experienced a bladder infection, but that seemed to make sense.

Valentine's night, I was calling around trying to find a babysitter for my other kids so that I could take our sweetie to her doctor's appointment the next morning. It was to no avail. Unfortunately our nice date night was full of concern as to how I was going to get our daughter to the doctor the next day.

That next morning, after changing our sweetie's bed sheets again, and noticing a rash, my teenage daughter offered to stay home from school that morning so that I could take our sweetie to her appointment. I was relieved.

I felt like a mom that was being proactive and going to find out why our daughter was having so many accidents. I read in a magazine that when anything is out of the ordinary in a child's behaviors, seeking a doctor first, is wise. I thought, whatever the problem, we will start with the medical profession, if its behavioral, we will deal with that next...

and the rest is history.

the doctor took a urine sample, just to be thorough.

She walked in carrying the paperwork and said that she ran the sample just to be thorough but didn't expect to find anything.

Then she looked again.

Her glucose levels were over 600.

She left the room.

Her nurse came in a blood meter, that now I am too familiar with. At the time I was yet, so so innocent.

What's going on? I innocently asked. innocently asked. so innocently asked.

the doctor is calling the endocrynologist.

what's that? I asked.

the diabetes specialist.

what's diabetes? I asked.

the doctor will come back and talk with you, soon.

Basically, in the next 30 minutes, my daughter was not the same daughter I packed into the car that morning on the way to the doctor's office. She no longer had a bladder infection that could be treated with antibiotics and returned to normal. She was now a daughter with an incurable autoimmune disease that had to be rushed by ambulance to faraway hospital and admitted for the next few days and I was to stay in cell phone contact with the doctor the entire drive to make sure my daughter didn't....pass out?, die?,....I don't know. I never asked.

so here we are today. Almost a year later. I still fight tears typing this horrible scene from the doctor's office that I never wanted to be part of.

But here we are. almost one year later.

my heart goes out to all of you knowing all to well what I am writing about.

3 comments:

  1. totally same scenario at the doctor's office for us...:o(...Happy D-versary to you though my friend! Be proud of how far you all have come this year! You are doing an amazing job and you have one brave little one girlie there!

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  2. I have tears reading this because it hits far too close to home. The "innocence" that was lost that day...

    But it also feels good to know that your daughters life was saved that day. Here is to many more happy healthy years!

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  3. This blog is a great source of information for me. Thank you.

    BEST SOLUTIONS ON DIABETES RASH.

    ReplyDelete