The Art of Forgetfulness

 Maddie is a talented girl.  I am often amazed at the things that she knows, and is capable of doing, and doing well, at the age of 12. Among other things, she is smart, witty, and super funny. She has a hint of sarcasm, but fortunately, she only uses it in humorous situations.  Oh, and most importantly, she has an impeccable memory....when it has to do with ANYTHING besides her diabetes.  With that, she is struck with an early onset severe memory disorder. 

"Did you check your blood sugar before lunch?"

"Ooohhhh...I forgot."

"Did you correct for your spaghetti like I asked you to?"

"Oops--I forgot."

"Don't forget to correct for that snack!"

{Hours later} "Uh oh....I forgot."

"Your blood sugar is a little too high right now.  Save that candy for when it comes down."

"Aww man--I forgot!"

I thought this kind of memory loss is supposed to be saved for women after they've had children.  I understand that she hates that she has to always deal with this stupid diabetes, but I would think that it would be automatic by this point.

It's weird--she can't remember anything that has to do with diabetes and carbs and insulin, but she doesn't seem to forget where her iPod is, or how much chore money she's owed, or that last Friday I told her I would get her favorite snack at the grocery store next time I went, or that I told her she could occasionally stay up until 11pm on some school nights (whaaaat?!?) or that 5 weeks ago, I promised her that I'd take her to Aeropostale at 2:30pm next Saturday (really?).....

The Arrival

It's here.  Finally.  It's like Christmas came a little early this year.  After 7 months, 20 days, and 6 hours, I heard the doorbell ring.  There were tons of screams and giggles, (ok, ok...it was just me) as Shawn opened the door. 

There he was.  Dressed in his polyester blue shorts. He was beautiful. Older, yet distinguished, and wise. I loved him. And I loved what he brought me. 

"Howdy, Ma'am." he said.  There it was, in his wrinkly hands. I had to catch my breath when I saw it for the first time.

"Hey there! Where do I sign?" is all I managed to get out.  I couldn't wait for his response. I snatched it and ran for my set of dull knives, grabbing the sharpest one, leaving Shawn to deal with him. My heart was beating so fast.  My breath was quick and shallow.

I slit every piece of tape across that box.  I ripped that sucker open like I was performing emergency surgery.  As my knife was flying around violently, I noticed what it said in the Return Address area.

MEDTRONIC

Oh, the word is such a beautiful one. As I held back my tears of excitement, I saw the tiny box inside, covered in shrink wrap.

MEDTRONIC REVEL

Here it is! Here it is! Here it is!

"MADDIE--GET DOWN HERE!!!!"

Together, she and I scratched at the plastic shrink wrap like 2 little mice trying to get through a piece of sheet rock. Suddenly, she was the competition, seeing who could get the box opened first. 

"Mama, let me see!"

"Maddie- get off of it!" Oh my, I had forgotten who I was, out of sheer excitement.

She put her hand over mine to try to get the box away from me.

"Maddie- STOP!" Yes, I am ashamed--I had lost all self control at this point.

As soon as I finished pushing Maddie to the ground, (totally kidding) I got the box opened.  We heard the angels singing on our behalf. I was completely unaware of what was going on around me. At this point, all that was in existence was Maddie, me, and the brand new, beautiful, blue Revel pump.

We both gasped at the same time.

"Oh, it's so pretty!" she sighed.

"Yes. Yes, it is." I muttered as I held back my tears of joy.

Talent Show

Our church had a talent show--Maddie (age 9) chose to sing "Mighty To Save". The camera shaking is me trying not to ball my eyes out. I was and am SO proud of her!!! She is so much more brave than I am.

4th of July

Maddie was asked by our music minister to sing this on Sunday July 4, 2010. We should always remember to thank those who serve our country.

Celiac

NEGATIVE RESULTS FOR CELIAC DISEASE! Yay!!!

Whew~


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The Dreaded Appointment

Every other month we see our endo, and on the way there, I dread finding out what Maddie's A1C is. This time was no different. Alas, the A1C machine (don't know what it's called) beeped, so I asked. She had gone from 8.5 to 8.7. Although I was glad she wasn't in the 9's, going UP was not the direction that I was hoping to have gone.

I allow Maddie to be a little higher at night, or I don't give her the complete correction, because I have this eminent fear that she will crash during the night, and not wake up. Because whatever the number is, I don't know if it's going up, or down at a rapid pace.  (We do not have the CGM at this point in time.) This is my problem--she's too high during the night and first thing in the morning. And it's all my fault. I've come to grips with this. I take full responsibility.

I HATE DEALING WITH THIS STUPID DISEASE.

In addition to screwing up her A1C, her height and weight has gone from the 50th percentile, to the 25th percentile over the last year. Yeah, I know--I'm such a great mom.....not. My child is shrinking. Well, actually, she's not shrinking, she's just not growing.

I HATE DIABETES!!!

"But she's picky!" and "She isn't hungry much of the time!" and "She eats healthy food MOST of the time, so she's probably not getting enough calories!" These were my ignorant and useless justifications for my reprimanding from the doctor. Basically, she's not eating ENOUGH, therefor, not getting enough insulin. Could this be any more difficult to grasp in my little blonde brain?

Everytime I read other type 1 moms' blogs, I learn something new--like how the humidity can alter blood sugars, or how allergies to pollen can send you through the roof. Will I ever get the hang of this? I mean, come on, people--you would think that after almost 5 years, I would have gotten the hang of this by now.

Nope. Did I mention that I hate this stupid disease?

The "S" Word

As adults, we find ourselves saying words that aren't really a big deal, when coming out of the mouths of adults.

"This outfit looks like crap on me" or "Shut up! That is TOO funny!" or "Trust me, I felt SO stupid!" or "Eww--I HATE anchovies!"

But as you have children, and you continue to say these "bad" words, you realize that out of all the thousands of words your child hears everyday, they will only repeat the things that you DON'T want them to repeat, and words that sound rather inappropriate coming out of a child's mouth.

I'll never forget when Maddie was in her "Terrible Two's" (before she was diagnosed) she picked up on our (incidentally, I place equal blame on my husband) use of these "bad" words, which were only ever used in a casual, non-threatening way.

"I hate my hair! Please tell me if it looks stupid!"

"Can you believe I put on 2 different socks?!? I just realized how stupid it looks. The lighting in this closet is so crappy!"

"I can't get this stupid can opener to work!!!" (Can I get an Amen on that one ladies? Does anyone REALLY have a can opener that actually works??)

Anyhoo, we learned very quickly that stupid, crap, hate, and shut up, although mostly used in jest, and not EVER used to hurt anyone's feelings, or to be mean, were words that we could not say in front of Maddie.

Fast forward 7 years and 2 more children, and still, I feel a sense of sudden regret when I slice my finger open, and let a "crap" slip, or see an advertisement for a pole dancing exercise DVD on TV, and say that it's "stupid" under my breath, only to be reminded by my 5 year old that "Ooooh--mama said a bad word!" knowing good and well that those will be the first 6 words out of his mouth when my husband gets home, or as soon as he walks into my parents' house for a visit.

Embarrassed, I always explain that while it IS a "bad" word, sometimes grown-ups use it, but not in a mean way, and when he is 35, he can use those words as much as he'd like. But not before then.

One morning recently, after we had been up all night checking blood and ketones, and eventually changing her site, Maddie and I, both VERY tired from the night before, were working on her schoolwork. The house was quiet, she was almost through, and she stopped and put her pencil down.

As we both happened to yawn at the same time, she said, "Mama, can I say a bad word?"

"Um....". What is the correct answer to that question?!?

"Just this one time while Reilly and Brendan aren't around."

Stunned, and before I could answer, she screamed, "Diabetes is STUPID, and I HATE it! It's nothing but CRAP!" And then she just looked at me, waiting fir my reaction.

After blurting out all of those obscenities, she still looked tired, but she had a slight sense of relief on her sweet little face. I have to admit, those words do sound far worse coming out of a sweet little 9 year-old, innocent mouth.

She sheepishly waited for me to scowl, or to reprimand her.

After all, she was simply stating the truth about something that we have to fight every day. Something that rules her life and interrupts everything she does. Something that NOT ONE of her friends has to deal with. Something that makes her different. Something that is unfair and tries to defeat her every minute of the day.

So obviously, I smiled wide, and proudly said, "Maddie, I couldn't agree with you more!"


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I'm Starving!!

If you have read my post about homeschooling Maddie, you'll know that I do enjoy eating my words.  Today I was starving!

This time instead of being about homeschooling, it is about insurance, since ironically that was the frustrating topic of my last post.

My husband came home from work a month or two ago and announced that they were getting new insurance at his job.  That always makes me cringe because I'm always fearful that someone somewhere is going to deny Maddie coverage, even though I know that they can't do that on a group plan.  I also cringe because the amount we pay per month for our family to have insurance, (even though Shawn is free) is almost like another house payment.

Today was the first time I went to get Maddie's testing strips since our new insurance went into effect.  They used to cost us $70, just for that one prescription, just for that one month.  Today, I found out that our prescription co-pay is not $70 anymore, it's $10!!  This is where I started eating my words, once again.

This was the conversation in the pharmacy drive-thru between myself and the pharmacist.

"That will be $10."

"WHAAAAAAT?"  This is the part where I had to physically pick up my lower jaw and put it back into place.
 
"I said, that will be $10 for your daughter's testing strips."  She was not nearly as excited as I was at that point. 

"Nuh-uh!"

"Uh-huh."

"No way!"

"Um, yes way, ma'am."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"No, ma'am, I'm not kidding."

"OH.......MY.........GOODNESS......she just said it would be $10," I sometimes yell at my steering wheel.

The poor pharmacist had been hunched over at the microphone for several minutes waiting for me to get my act together, and my kids were scared, silent and wide-eyed in the back of the van watching my entire "freak-out" episode.

"Ma'am, I have customers waiting inside the store.  Are you going to pay for this today?"

See, for this pharmacist, it was just an everyday, run of the mill, prescription refill.  But for me, it was an answer to prayer in a desperate time of need.

.....The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.  James 5:16 

Reply

I just wanted to write a quick post to reply to a comment that someone made on one of my older posts.  I don't know the commentor, but I am very glad that she found my blog and read it.  That really means a lot to me.  The more we know about the stuggles people have with diabetes, the closer we'll be to finding a cure.

I think she misunderstood the title of my blog, which is "A Beautiful Diabetic".  She wrote:   

"It is sad that you identify your daughter as diabetic.
It should be....My Beautiful daughter is Maddie. She is 9 and she's smart, talented, full of life, and hilarious, all rolled up into one precious little body. o yeah she is diabetic.
Diabetic is not who she is."

You're right--a diabetic is not who she is.  And just so you know, I don't really 'identify' her as diabetic.  The reason I called my blog "A Beautiful Diabetic" is because I want people to know about this disease, and how it affects children and families on a realistic daily basis.

I could have called it ":My Beautiful Maddie" and that would have been a wonderful title, but for me, I want to reach out to that one mother, who sits in despair at her computer, googling diabetes because her child was just diagnosed.  I want her to know that my diabetic child lives a normal, fun-filled, yet sometimes treacherous life.  This disease is a fight that we are going to win, and that is the point of my blog.

Another reason for writing my blog, mostly about diabetes, is because there is a huge community out there of families with children who have the disease.  Personally, I value those other moms who have that in common with me, and who also have blogs about their diabetic kids.  I look to them for support, and questions when necessary.

But, thank you, friend, for caring enough to leave a comment on my blog.  I sincerely appreciate your input.  But don't be sad~  I don't identify Maddie as a diabetic.  It's just a creative title that is intended to catch the eye of someone who is struggling with the same thing. 

Oprah

I am not an Oprah fan, I don't agree with most of her points of view concerning faith and God, nor do I make it a point to watch her show.  I do, however, think that sometimes she has some really good topics on her show that are very informative to us as women and mothers, but also some good health information.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a preview for a show about a family with a schizophrenic child.  I was going to be sure to watch this one!!  I think a lot of times we think, "Oh, whoa is me...." and we think we have big problems.  This particular show really put it in perspective for me.

Janny is a pretty little girl, with beautiful curly blond hair, around 8 or 9 years old, (Maddie's age).  She  started showing signs of hallucinations at around 6 months of age.  As she got older, she got worse, and her condition progressed into schizophrenia, which is very rare in children.  Now she has what seems like imaginary friends, but is really other personalities that talk to her and tell her to do bad things, and she stays angry most of the time, if not constantly violent.  At the age of 5, Janny was asking her parents things like how to break your neck, or what it the easiest way to die.    

But here is where I realized that maybe having a diabetic child isn't as bad as having a child with another disability, like say, a mental disability such as this one: 

Janny's mom is a stay at home mom, and her dad is an English professor at a local college.  They also have a son that is under 2 years old.  The family lives in an apartment complex.  Janny has one apartment, and the baby brother has another apartment.  They can't live in the same house, or even be around each other, for fear that Janny will kill her brother.  Janny can't have sharp objects or any cleaning solutions in her apartment, for fear of hurting herself.  One parent sleeps with the baby brother in his apartment one night, while the other monitors Janny as she sleeps, then they take turns the next night.  All day long, Janny is monitored, while someone else stays with the brother.  The only friend she has is a little girl she met in the mental hospital who suffers from paranoid schizophrenia.  The two girls seem to understand each other, and that is what they have in common. 

This story just made me sad, and although I loath it, and diabetes does affect Maddie emotionally and sometimes behaviorally, I sometimes don't realize how lucky I am to have a child with diabetes.

Being a Mom

My initial intention was to write a blog for moms whose kids had been recently diagnosed with diabetes.  My thought was to let them know that even thought it's devastating to find out that your child has a chronic disease, it's probably the best one to have.  You see, it's not cancer (thank goodness) or a tumor or a disability that will make her look very different.  Diabetes is something that can be easily hidden, easily regulated, and pretty easily monitored.

I also wanted those "newly diagnosed" moms to read about a normal family with normal kids, who live a normal life, but that live it with diabetes.  See, I don't claim to know much about politics, or the financial world, or business, or even sports.  I don't watch the evening news, or really care about watching it.  I don't have a medical degree, or ever thought about getting one.  My talents lie only in being creative.  I don't claim to know much about the cardiovascular system, or the nervous system, or the endocrine system, or any other systems.

But, I can tell you that I know almost all there is to know about taking care of a child that has diabetes.  I know what to do if her blood sugar gets too low.  I know what to do if it gets too high.  I know how to give shots.  I know how to change an infusion set.  I know what to feed, and what not to feed a diabetic.  I know how big "one serving" of pasta is.  I know how many carbs are in a half cup of white rice.  I know what's going to happen if she's too active.  I know what to do if she's been sitting still for a long time.  I know what to do if she gets upset.  I know what to do when her adrenaline kicks in.  I know what to do when she's sick.  I know what to do if she has ketones in her urine.  You give me a diabetes scenario, and I can tell you what to do with it.  

My sister always says that I know way more than she does about diabetes, even though she's had it for over 13 years.  I think I know why.  It's not me that has the disease.  It's my child.  I didn't set out to learn about diabetes.  I did it because I had to.  It's my responsibility to take care of Maddie, so I have to know all of that stuff.  If I were the one with this disease, I probably wouldn't know as much about it. 

As moms, we don't let our kids out of our sight, unless we know that they're going to be safe.  That's our job.  It's why we're moms.  I went to college at a huge university for 4 years and got a Bachelor of Arts degree.  No employer or cushy job in the world is as sweet as being a mom.  I'm going to give it my all.  And that includes taking care of a child with diabetes.

10 Things I Want My Friends To Know

Here's another good one from www.juvenation.org:

10 Things I Want My Friends To Know

1. When I'm testing my blood sugar or giving myself insulin, please don't get grossed out or make a big deal about it.
2. Please stop telling me I can't eat something because there's sugar in it!  I can eat all the same things as you can, just in smaller portions and with a dose of insulin.
3. Just because I've had diabetes for a long time doesn't mean I'll ever get used to it.  Most days I'm fine, but some days my diabetes can still get the best of me.
4. I'm not going to die every time I check my blood sugar or experience a low.
5. You don't need to announce to everyone that I have diabetes.  I'll tell them if I want to.
6. Having diabetes is like a full-time job and can be exhausting, so please be patient with me.
7. Just because I have diabetes doesn't mean that I can't play sports and do all the things that everyone else does.
8. It's OK to ask me questions about my diabetes.  I want to help you understand what it's like.
9. I didn't do anything to cause my type 1 diabetes, and there's still no cure.
10. Diabetes doesn't define who I am, it's just something I have.

The funny thing about Maddie and her friends is that a lot of her friends feel like they have to look out for her or protect her from harm.  She really thinks it's sweet.  She loves her friends!!

Funny, Yet So True

I read this article on a great website: www.juvenation.org

It is funny, but at the same time, it shows how little people know about diabetes. According to www.JDRF.org as many as 3 million Americans may have Type 1 Diabetes, and each year more than 15,000 children are diagnosed with diabetes in the U.S. That's 40 children per day. Scary....

Anyhoo, Maddie and I read this together, and we had a couple of good laughs....

STUPID THINGS PEOPLE SAY
A constant source of frustration for people with type 1 diabetes is annoying questions or comments from well-meaning but ill-informed people. Here are some of our favorites:

"Does it hurt?"
Of course poking myself with a needle hurts sometimes, and you never really get used to it no matter how long you have had diabetes.

"You can't eat that--You have diabetes!"
I know what I can and can't eat! Limiting sweets can help me keep my blood sugar under control, but as long as I adjust my insulin, I can eat them just like people without diabetes.

"Do you think you should eat something?"
I appreciate your concern, but I've been living with type 1 diabetes for some time now. Unless I've already asked you to watch me for specific symptoms and remind me to eat, I can decide when and what to eat on my own.

"Did you get diabetes because you at too much sugar?"
Eating too much sugar is not a cause of type 1 diabetes. I didn't do anything to cause my diabetes.

"I know all about diabetes, so here's what you need to do...."
Just because you're older than me or have more education doesn't mean you know more than I do about diabetes. I've been living with this disease for many years, so don't you think I know more about it than you?

"You're so skinny, how could you have diabetes?"
Obesity can be a trigger for Type 2 Diabetes, but it has NOTHING to do with type 1.

**my personal favorite**
"I have type 2 diabetes, so I know how you feel."
No, you don't. People with type 2 diabetes may be able to control their disease with diet and exercise alone, or with oral medication. Type 1 diabetics have to inject insulin constantly.

"Insulin can cure diabetes, right?"
Taking insulin keeps people with type 1 diabetes alive, but dies not cure the disease. While progress has been made, there still is no cure for diabetes.

"How come your blood sugar is always too hight or too low? Are you doing something wrong?"
Many factors can easily cause my blood sugars to swing out of control no matter how well I follow my meal plan and insulin schedule. It does not mean I've done something wrong.

Can't you get rid of your diabetes if you just exercise and eat right?"
If I could, don't you think I would have done that by now? Type 1 Diabetes is not caused by a poor diet, obesity, or lack of exercise. Those are factors associated with type 2 diabetes. Exercise and a good diet can help me to better control my type 1 diabetes, but they do not make it go away.


Being that Maddie is a child, with friends who are also children, she gets these questions and ones similar, all the time. She knows that she just needs to explain that her pancreas doesn't work, so her pump takes the place of it. God gives certain people patience for a reason. Maddie has become a very patient little girl.

That Summer

That was a long hard summer. I had a child that I had to give shots to 8 times a day. I had to prick her finger 10 or so times per day. I had to watch what she put in her mouth. I had to make sure she wasn’t shaking from getting too low. I had to check her urine for ketones. I had to check her blood every 2 or 3 hours during the night. I had to tell her she couldn’t have the foods that she was used to eating. I couldn’t let her out of my sight for more than an hour or two. I had a toddler that had already begun to enter the “terrible two’s”. My husband went away for week long trips, 3 times. I had to start preparing Maddie for kindergarten…... Oh yeah, and I unexpectedly got pregnant. Nice…..

Diabetes 101

It was a Wednesday afternoon. When we walked in, the nurse took us to a conference room. Whew--no examination room, no paper liner on the table, no tiny sink or stool with wheels. Just a table and 4 chairs. It wasn't anything intimidating for a 5 year old. And there we sat from 2 p.m. until it got dark outside. I don't even know when we left. All I knew was that my mom had my 2 year old and we had a sick daughter.

We learned A LOT about diabetes that afternoon. We learned about cells, blood, sugars, the pancreas, how to give shots, how to check glucose, what to do when, and what to do where. It was information overload. I remember thinking that this was more information than I had taken in during all 4 years of college.

Then it was time. The doctor wanted ME to give my child a shot. He wanted ME to stick a needle in her smooth tanned skin. I washed my hands. I prepared the insulin. I screwed on the needle. I wiped down her skin with alcohol.

Now, we don't have cats, but I've heard that it is almost impossible to get a cat into a toilet. Why anyone would want to put a cat down into a toilet bowl is beyond me, but nonetheless, I've heard it's tough. Supposedly the cat clings onto the side for dear life, all the while scratching, biting, hissing, and screaming. Clinging to your arm, so as to not get wet from the water.

Administering this shot, was like trying to get a cat in the toilet. Once I held up that needle, we had to catch Maddie. Once we had her in our grasp, we had to physically hold down her arms and legs. We had to hold her still, because she was NOT going to let us near her with a needle in our hands. After the even-keeled doctor and nurse tried for about 10 minutes to talk her into letting us stick her, Shawn stepped in and held her. When she wouldn't allow him to hold her down, the doctor, who is probably 5 feet tall and in his 60's, grabbed Maddie, while the nurse held her arms and sat on her legs.

I had a tiny window of opportunity to stick her teeny little tummy with this stupid needle. I just went for it. I held my breath, pinched up her skin, and let her have it. I was sweating, my eyes were burning, the lump in my throat was painful, I was nauseous, and I was shaking. Shawn was as white as a ghost and plastered up against the wall in the corner.

The sound that came out of that child's mouth was like nothing that I had ever heard before. Not only was she being held down by 2 total strangers, but she was getting a shot in her stomach, and it was being administered by her mother. The person that promised that she would never let anything happen to her. The person who loved and hugged and kissed her. The one that held her and rubbed her head when she was upset. The one that picked her up when she skinned her knee and carried her inside. The one that sat up all night when she was sick. Hopefully she would forgive me for this.

When it was over, I was relieved, Maddie was an angry mess, the doctor and nurse were stunned, and Shawn was still quiet and pale. What a relief that it was over!! Now, I only had to do that exact same thing 6-8 times a day for the rest of her life. Oh, and by the way, I only have to check her blood sugar 12 times a day until we get this under control.

As we were leaving the dark and vacant doctors office late on that Wednesday evening, the doctor announced, "I'll see you at 9 in the morning. Be prepared to stay until at least 6 p.m. Oh, and you'll come in all day on Friday, too."

We had a trip to the beach planned for that weekend. Shawn was going on a missions trip the week after that. What in the world were we going to do? I don't know if I can handle this. I guess I don't have much of a choice.

A Miracle on June 28th, 2006

Fortunately for us, there was a new pediatric endocrinologist in town. He was well known for having had articles published in medical journals, for being one of very few pediatric endocrinologists in the state, and he was the first endocrinologist to have a diabetic patient healthily go through fertility treatments, pregnancy, and a healthy birth in the 1970’s.

However, he was booked solid. Not taking new patients.

Somehow, our pediatrician worked a miracle over the phone. Not only would he see us, but he would see us that day. He would tell us what to do. He would tell us what we needed to know. He would help us get our baby girl healthy again.

I had no idea what was in store for us over the next 3 days.

The Phone Call

After the doctor’s loud phone call in his office, he came back into the room. He had made arrangements with a specialist that wasn’t taking new patients. Except for Maddie. She was an exception. I was given directions, a name, a suite number, and a time.

It was a dizzying walk down the hallway back into the waiting room. I remember opening the door and seeing Reilly playing with the toys, and my mom sitting on the chair, smiling. She was ready to go and get on with hanging out with her grandchildren.

I know I wasn’t crying outright, because I was trying to be strong for Maddie, and I didn’t want her to think it was a big deal. I didn’t want her to be scared. I do know that I had tears in my eyes, and the moment I looked at my mom, who was smiling, and she saw my tears, I had to actually say it.

“What did he say?!?”

I didn’t want to say it. If I said it, then I’d be putting it out there, and I’m not ready to do that. If I nod my head, will my mom know what I mean? Will she think everything is fine? Or will she get my hint? What is Maddie going to think?

Get it together, Marcie. Maddie is listening. Get it together, girl. If you break down, she’ll freak out, and you don’t need her to do that right now. Clear your throat. Swallow. Take a deep breath.

“She has diabetes,” I spoke very softly so maybe, just maybe, Maddie wouldn’t hear me.

“WHAT?”

“She has diabetes. We have to go see a pediatric endocrinologist at 2:00.”

My mom didn’t say much after that. I didn’t say much either. I do remember her calling my dad to tell him to pray. We had to figure out how to spend the next couple of hours with a toddler and a hungry 5 year old, that apparently had diabetes.

I don’t remember dialing the phone, but I had to somehow inform my husband that our sweet baby girl, the light of our lives, our first born child, the owner of our hearts, has diabetes.

“Hello?” Shawn is always very chipper at school. I think it’s because he’s doing exactly what he is meant to be doing. He loves it, and I think he’s really good at it.

“Hey.” I, however, was not so chipper.

“Hey! What’s up?”

I was mumbling softly, trying not to get upset, or let Maddie hear my conversation. “Maddie has diabetes.”

“What? I didn’t hear you. Maddie what?”

“She has diabetes.”

“SHE HAS DIABETES?”

“Yes. Mom and I are on our way to get them something to eat, then we have a 2:00 appointment with a doctor. You should probably come.”

“Where is the appointment?”

I gave him directions and he hung up. I could tell he was trying not to cry.

Panic

Have you ever not totally known what was going on, but you could tell that it wasn’t good by the face on the person in charge? To look at a man, that had inspected every square inch of my child’s body, and see his face go pale, and his eyes bug out, is never good. All he said was, “She’s over 600,” and he left the room.

“What’s he doing?” I had such a confused look on my face.

“She’s definitely got diabetes. She’s higher than I’ve ever seen a child be.”

Susan was speaking quietly, as if she didn’t want Maddie to hear her, or as if it wasn’t going to sting my innermost being to hear her blurt out something so dreadful about my child. She cleaned up from checking Maddie’s blood sugar and left the room.

You know, when you are trying not to cry, and you get that lump in your throat, then it kind of burns your nose, and your eyes well up? You know that feeling? Or when you get in some kind of accident and right as it’s happening, you’re thinking, “Great--wouldn’t you know this would happen to me.” Or what about when something happens, and you know that you can do nothing to change the situation or influence the outcome?

I could hear him in his office through the walls. He was talking too loudly. But I could only make out phrases like, “immediately,” “serious,” and “she’s only 5 years old.” I had forgotten that Maddie was actually sitting there on the bench next to me, or that my mom was in the waiting room with my 18 month old. I just remember staring at the tiles on the floor, wondering what I had done wrong for my beautiful daughter to be sick.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” That’s usually a question that any mother shouldn’t want to answer. What should I tell her? How do I tell her what diabetes is, when I don’t even know what it is? Is it going to go away? How can I fix it? Does she have to go to the hospital? What’s going to happen to my little girl’s life???

“I don’t know, Maddie.”

The Date Was June 28, 2006

The first week of June in 2006, our family went to Disney World. Yes, we went in June. Yes, it was 150 degrees outside in the sun all day. And yes, we went to the parks as soon as they opened, and we were there until the parks closed. Maddie was 5 and Reilly was 18 months old. We had lots of snacks, and we ate every meal at the park restaurants, and at the different fast food stands. The kids had every slushy flavor that existed, every cotton candy color that they sold, and ate at every snack food stand that they saw. We were just living it up. That was our vacation, and we hadn't been on one like that ever, and probably won't again for a long time.

For quite some time before that trip, I had noticed that Maddie had terrible dark circles under her eyes. I just thought it was from being tired, or maybe her glasses prescription had changed and she was straining her eyes, or maybe she needed to drink more milk, or eat more vegetables.

She had also started wetting the bed every night. Here is my daughter, who at 2, decided that she wanted to use the potty, and never, I repeat, NEVER, wet her pants again. No pull-ups, no accidents, and no changing the sheets in the middle of the night. This girl had a camel bladder. I went twice as many times as she went during the day.

Maddie had begun to use the bathroom all the time during the day. She would go every 15 minutes. She would go as soon as she woke up. She would go whenever and wherever she was. When she went, it was as if she hadn't been in hours. She also began drinking everything in sight. If you had any beverage, she would walk up to it and down it in a matter of seconds. She would drink the whole glass if you didn't take it away from her. She didn't even care whose it was. If it was liquid, she would drink it.

Instead of buying her summer clothes that spring, I went digging through her old clothes because not only was she not fitting into her shorts that were 4's and 5's, but some of her 3's were falling off of her waist. She had started wearing size 2 and 3 shorts (normally a 2 and 3 year old size) with her size 4 and 5 tops.

All of these things mentioned were strange things that I had noticed over the spring months, but I never put them all together. I just thought she was acting weird, or she was just going through a growth spurt and maybe she was leaving her "baby-ness" behind and turning into a "big kid". I started getting a bad feeling about all of these things when we got home from our vacation because it seemed as if everything was magnified from that point on. All of these "symptoms" seemed to get worse. I realized I had to do something about it, or at least talk to a doctor.

I remember June 27th, 2006, sitting in my driveway, calling my sister, who at the time, was the only diabetic person I knew. She told me things like, "She doesn't have diabetes--you're crazy" and "save your copay, and I'll check her blood sugar next time I'm in town" but something inside of me was making me feel uneasy about the way Maddie looked and the way she was acting. So I hung up with my sister, and still sitting in the driveway, I called the pediatrician and asked to speak with the nurse.

As of right now, 3 years later, I can remember sitting in the driver’s seat, the car running, it was 5:00, and Maddie and Reilly were both asleep in the back seat. The nurse’s name was Susan, and all I remember is her saying, “Well, if you think she has diabetes, we need to get her in first thing in the morning.” There was no appointment made, there were no instructions, just get up, and bring her in! So, as directed, the next morning, my mom and I took Maddie up to the pediatrician’s office. Mom waited in the waiting room, and Maddie and I went down the hall, where we had gone so many times before. All the way, I’m telling Maddie that it’s going to be fine, but they would have to prick her finger, but I would get her a prize if she didn’t cry. At this point, my main concern was whether or not she would let the nurse have her finger.

That was the longest walk down that hallway that I can ever remember.