Pulling an All-Nighter

Maddie has been looking forward to her first soccer practice for weeks. Thursday April 1st was the sought after day. She's had her practice clothes out for weeks, which by the way, are coordinated with her socks, shin guards, and pink striped cleats. Incidentally, she also had decided that she would wear 2 low pony tails behind her ears, instead of the conventional 1 pony tail on the back of the head.

The pink and purple soccer ball from Justice has been in her hot pink adidas bag for a few days now, and the hot pink water bottle was washed and ready to go. I had informed Maddie and her brother to fill their water bottles and put them in the freezer a few hours before time to go. It was 80 degrees here today, so I knew they would need them frozen, in order for them to be cold at practice.

Well, 5:30 came and my 2 soccer players went, and the water bottles remained in the freezer. In my defense, there's only so much one person can handle at once, and I was furiously trying to feed them before they hit the road.

So, of course, I had forgotten to give the kids their water. Fortunately there was a Sheetz on the way to the field, so my husband stopped off and got each of them a big cold Aquafina.

Upon arriving at the field, both kids jumped out of the car, as if it were Christmas morning, and ran to the field. My husband, who was coerced into coaching the 5 year-olds, followed close behind, carrying all of his stuff.

Lo and behold, there was one important thing left in the car--Maddie's water. Not that of my husband, or my 5 year-old rough and tough soccer dude, but alas, it was Maddie's water.

Now, we all know the horrible cycle of dehydration for those of us who don't have diabetes, but for a diabetic, it's sooooo much worse. Dehydration leads to high blood sugars, ketones, and all kinds of other lovely things. The last time Maddie was severely dehydrated, we were instructed to take her to the ER, where she was hooked up to an IV all day. I will give anything in order to avoid that traumatic experience again.

When Maddie returned from practice, she was in the 500's. Because she had been active for an hour prior to that check, I took off 100, and corrected her for 400. I do take her pump off when she plays sports, because let's face it--I don't want to purchase another $7,000 pump, when I am barely able to pay for this one. She will usually go high because of adrenaline, but I can't always count on that, so I like her to be on the high side when she's going to be active.

Anyhoo, knowing there was no basil for an hour or so, I was expecting her to be high when she got home, but also expected her to go low quickly, once her adrenaline stopped, and she was able to cool down. All of this time, no one, except for Maddie was aware that she had had NO water the entire practice.

An hour after the initial post-practice check, she was in the high 400's, so I corrected her again, this time for the whole amount, but I set the pump alarm to go off in 1 hour so I could recheck and see where she was, thinking that she would be very low.

She got in the shower, messed around in her room for a bit, and when the hour was up, I checked her again. Still in the 400's. So I changed her site. No big deal. Then it was bedtime, and off to bed she went, with her meter in tow. I would be checking her again before I hit the hay.

At about 11:00, she came down the steps complaining that she was freezing and almost violently shivering. OK, this is one thing I had not seen her ever do, unless she was scared by a thunderstorm, or unless the heat was broken in our house. I checked her, and she had gone down to near her normal range. She felt warm, so I checked her temperature, and she was around 100, but that was while shivering, so I'm not really sure if that was even accurate.

We gave her Tylenol, a bottle of water in order to check ketones at a later time, wrapped her up in my Snuggie (leopard print--love it!!) and my husband carried her off to our bed, to snuggle her up and try to get her warm.

A while later, I checked on them, and she was wide awake watching Cory in the House, and Shawn was snoring like a jack hammer, as usual. She was still sipping on her water, and had checked her ketones, which turned out to be "small". I figured this was partly because of the whole water bottle situation that had gone down earlier in the evening.

I checked her temperature once again, and she was 104!!! She's my first of 3 children, and I've been fortunate enough to have healthy kids (other than diabetes), who catch the occasional bug, or cold, or every now and then get an ear infection, but I've NEVER had a child with a fever of 104. That's as high as my thermometer goes, and I didn't think it ever really went that high.

So after a call to the Endo at 1:30 a.m., who was out of town, then a call to the pediatrician, who wants to see her in the morning, we put her in a luke-warm bath, and put cooler pajamas on her.

Now, here I sit at my computer, which will be my companion for a while tonight, as I sit and wait for my opportunities to check her blood sugar every 2 hours, ketones as often as she has to use the bathroom, temperature, and administer Tylenol/Ibuprofen every 3 hours, and try to convince her to drink, drink, drink at any opportunity that she wakes up.

I'd rather not try to sleep, for fear that I will inadvertently turn off the alarm, not realizing that it's going off for a reason. Plus, I'm able to stay awake, with adequate TV shows and movies DVR'd, and Thursday night happens to be a good TV night. Not to mention that my only sleeping option is in Reilly's bunk bed, in which I will either be kicked in the face all night, or sleep with transformers, who happened to have gathered on the top bunk. Maddie's bed, which, while it is very comfortable, it is a day bed/trundle, and I happen to like to stick my feet out sometimes, and you know how day beds are--they're all tucked in. I know, I know.....it's really late, and I'm getting a little loopy.....

Anyhoo, I'm hoping the fever will go away, or go down to a normal 100 or so, and that there will be NO ketones, and normal blood sugars. Maybe this is, in fact, strep, as the pediatrician suggested, or maybe she's just really dehydrated, which is my intuition. You know what they say--a mother always knows, and my mom was always right about everything. At least that's what I've learned at the ripe old age of 35. We'll see....

The Wretched Bug

 **GROSS-OUT ALERT**

A few weeks back, (it's a blur because my last 2 months have been filled with so many sick-kid days, that I can't remember quite when it was) Maddie somehow picked up the "top end" stomach bug, opposed to the "bottom end".  Both equally gross, but having a drama queen for a child, makes the top end just a tad bit more disgusting.

You see, Maddie thinks that she is suffocating when she's throwing up, so she tends to shake her head back and forth as she's vomiting.  (Picture a dog getting out of the water, and before you can get to him to dry him off with the designated "dog towel", he does that doggy-water-shake-off thing and gets water EVERYWHERE.)  She also forgets to put the seat up, which leaves more square inches to contaminate.  But honestly, the seat really isn't a big deal, when you're sanitizing the entire toilet, floor, bathroom counter AND cabinets, in addition to all 4 bathroom walls.   

Now, not only do I try desperately to get her to the bathroom in time, get the seat up, keep out of the line of fire, keep my 3 and 5 year-old boys from watching in awe, but I'm also trying to hold back her loooong hair, as any good mom should.  *For the record, men just don't understand the importance of the holding-back of the hair.  My poor husband, who has been married to and living with me for almost 14 years, will stand OUTSIDE the bathroom door, when I happen to catch a bug, and yell, "You okay in there?"  Um, nooo!!  (To be read sarcastically, while rolling your eyes).

Anyway, this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of this fiasco.

I don't remember any exact numbers, but the night before, Maddie was a little high.  I corrected her, and she was just as high the next morning.  But, before I could suggest a site change, which is protocol for 2 high blood sugar readings in a row, after correction, that's when it all hit the fan.  Or the kitchen floor, if you want to be realistic.

Did you ever see "Cheaper By The Dozen" with Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt?  You know the part in the beginning when someone throws up, and it's a domino effect from then on for the next 10 minutes or so?  Well, for some reason, Shawn and Reilly (husband and 5 year-old) were standing right beside her, so as "it" was hitting the kitchen floor, (tile) it was splattering all over the legs of everyone and everything within 6 feet of her.  Fortunately, Brendan (3 year-old) was not nearby, but unfortunately, he didn't know what was going on, so while we were all frozen in fear and astonishment, he ran directly through it, and slid across the floor, smearing it all over the kitchen, laughing all the way.

In our attempt to get her to the bathroom, we were both slipping and sliding around, me barefooted, Shawn in his NEW WHITE tennis shoes, all while she was still vomiting and doing the head-shake thing.  Then we were torn--do we help the vomiting diabetic child, do we clean up the 150 square foot mess in the place where we eat, or do we clean off our legs, feet, hands, and everything else that got hit? 

As Shawn and I locked eyes, I could tell what he was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing.  Which job is worse?  To this day, I don't know the answer to that question, but as I dashed off, with a smirk on my face, to get the Swiffer Wet Jet in the garage (knowing good and well that Shawn had no idea where it was), I was yelling, "YOU BETTER HOLD HER HAIR BACK!!!"

Germs, Stools, and Flu Shots

Today was Reilly's 5 year-old check up.  No biggie, right?  Oh, it was a biggie.  Having Maddie around all the time means she gets the privilege of accompanying me everywhere I go.  Being that Brendan is 2, he also gets to enjoy that privilege.  My mom has the privelege of being able to help me out when I need it, and today, I needed it.

It was a perfect plan in my head.  Pick up Reilly at 12, get the kids lunch, eat in the car, meet my mom at the doctor's office, Mom, Maddie and Brendan watch a movie in the car with the windows down (it was a beautiful day) while Reilly and I run in and see the doctor.

At about 11:55, as I was on my way to the school, my phone rings.  It was Shawn telling me to see if I could get Maddie and Brendan in to get flu shots while I was at the doctor's office, so we wouldn't have to make 2 trips.  Yeah, easy for him to say--he was sitting in a quiet room with a bunch of well behaved teenagers who were not angst ridden about getting shots in their arms.  So, I agreed, called the doctor's office to see if I was able to do it, and hence began the whining and complaining.  The nurse said that they didn't get the nasal mist this year.  Just the shots.  That's just great. 

I have to admit, I'm a worrier.  I also have severe anxiety when it comes to knowing I'm going to endure something painful or uncomfortable.  For instance, I find it almost impossible to get a glaucoma test.  I can't stick my head in a contraption knowing good and well that this contraption is going to blow air on my eye balls.  I just can't do it.  If I keep my head in it, then I inevitably close my eyes at the exact moment the air puff blows.  It's the suspence of knowing that it's going to happen.  I also can't stand the eye ball numbing drops.  Because I know that I can't feel my eye balls, and that bothers me.  But, alas, I can endure a flu shot.  So, Maddie has this worry/anxiety thing that she picked up from her mother.  I just choose to worry about more important things, like puffs of air....

Anyhoo, for the next hour and a half, I had to listen to things like, "Do they have to give the shot to me?" and "You're going to have to pay money for me to get the shot, and I don't want you spending your money on me." and "I just really feel like I'm not going to get the flu, so can I just skip the shot?"  All of this coming from the person who has taken thousands of shots, thousands of finger pricks, and hundreds of needles and tiny tubes in her back side. 

Normally I'm not a germ-o-phobe, but the swine flu scare has sent me into sort of a panic because it could be much more dangerous for a child with a chronic illness, than an otherwise healthy child.  I spent the 15 minutes in the waiting room with Reilly applying the provided hand sanitizer and kindly reminding him not to touch anything or put his hands near his face.

Everything was going smoothly until they called Reilly's name to "come on back" and told me that the other 2 kids should come back, too.  It wasn't going to take long for his check up, then they would all get the shots.  The nurse took Reilly to weigh him, and I ran out to the car to get Mom, Maddie and Brendan.  I could tell it wasn't going to be pretty when Maddie walked down the hall with tears in her eyes.

All 5 of us get escorted into a tiny and very warm examination room.  As usual, immediately 3 things start to happen simultaneously.  Reilly, who is sitting on the table in his Spiderman boxer briefs, starts talking about something, in which to demonstrate meant he had to put his entire hands in his mouth, and when asked not to do that, immediately rubs his eyes with the previous saliva/germ covered hands.  Maddie is quietly crying in anticipation on the floor, with her blood sugar soaring by this point.  Brendan is running full speed back and forth in this 5x8 square foot room, in which there are 2 chairs, a stool, a desk, the paper covered examination table, and five people.

So being the worn out and frazzled mother that I am, I first asked him to stop (knowing full and well that he wouldn't have any part of that) then I put him in "time out" which consisted of the high stool that I knew he couldn't get down from.  Now at this point I am sweating, both from the heat of the room, and from the disposition of all 3 of my kids.  The sweet nurse sticks her head into our room and says, "I'm just putting the SIX  NEEDLES for the kids' SHOTS in the bin on the door.  I didn't want you to think someone was knocking on the door."  Yeah, thanks.  Way to bring it up.  Now everyone has a precise mental picture. 

You can always tell when the doctor is about to come into your room because you can hear the papers being shifted around as they look through your chart really quickly to know what's going on with you.  As I heard Reilly's papers being shifted, the door knob was turning, and I look over at Brendan and he is in mid air.  He lands on his head with the loudest "bonk" sound that you can imagine.  He didn't land on the side of his head, or his shoulder and head.  He landed flat on the back of his head.  And right as the doctor was opening the door.

So now I have 2 crying kids, and 1 in his underwear, and we haven't even started the check up yet.  A few minutes later, Brendan stops crying only to have a noticable goose egg on his head, but Maddie was still in a fetal position crying, this time on my Mom's lap.  I'm never in the right state of mind to ask questions of the doctor at my kids' check ups.  I'm always trying to keep people from crying, and I'm always sweating from the stress of having a doctor talk to me about my child, but not really listening because someone is inevitably acting up.

When it was shot time, Maddie went first, and started hyperventalating.  When the doctor got her calmed down, she gave her the shot.  It was somewhat remeniscent of the first time I gave Maddie a shot of insulin, but not quite as ear-piercing.  Of course, she looked right at the needle and started screaming, not to cease for probably a minute or two.  Fortunately, my mom had a good grip on her.  I had visions of the letters "HI" on her meter.  Stress and anxiety causes her blood sugar to go sky high, and this was definitely stress and anxiety for her, and for me. 

Unfortunately, Reilly received his kindergarten shots, so he got 4 shots instead of 1.  I heard him say things that I hadn't ever heard him say before.  "Get me away from her!" and "This has got to stop now!" and "I can't believe you're letting her do this to me!"  It was quite unsettling for me.  The worst part is having to hold them down so they can't move, except for turning their heads to see the 4 inch long needles.

Then it was Brendan's turn.  He was sleepy, and sweaty, and had a huge bump on his head.  I set him up on the table and she gave him his flu shot.  He didn't wince, he didn't cry, and he didn't even change his sweet expression from a blank look.  He just sat there and got his shot, and watched the whole time.  I think God gave me him to help my calm my anxious nerves and give me a periodic breath of fresh air in my stress filled life.

When we got out to the car, Maddie checked her blood and she was in the 500's.  That figures.....but at least she won't get the flu!  

   

The What Ifs

If you are a mother, and you’ve ever been told that something was wrong with your child, you probably wondered, “What did I do, or not do, for this to happen??”  As far as type 1 diabetes is concerned, there are many different scenarios on how one “gets” it. 

You can’t “catch” it.  You can’t pick it up from touching a bathroom toilet, you can’t get it from someone sneezing behind you at the movies, and you can’t get it from not washing your hands after you’ve handled raw chicken.  I think life would be a lot easier if we could prevent our kids from getting it. 

Our endocrinologist says that Maddie was predisposed to having diabetes, but that also at some point in time, she got a virus that attacked her immune system, which led to her body attacking her pancreas, then her thyroid (Hashimoto’s Disease), thus reeking auto-immune disease havoc inside her little body.

Hereditarily speaking, (do you like how I just now threw that in there??) there is diabetes in my family.  My sister was diagnosed with type 1 in her late 20’s.  I also remember my grandfather taking insulin and keeping track of his blood sugar, but my mom and sister are starting to think that maybe he had type 2.  Who knows…..  So, evidently, Maddie was set up from the start to someday have diabetes.  It’s in her DNA.  

But, as far as this whole virus thing, well, there were a few years in there (before I had my boys) when life wasn’t so chaotic, and I actually had time to be a neat and organized  mom.  There were several times when she was 2 or 3 years old, that I remember Maddie having a fever for a couple of days.  I remember being baffled because she didn’t have a sore throat, her ears didn’t hurt, she wasn’t throwing up, and there was no rash anywhere on her body.  She was acting fine, she was just burning up.

There would be the “chicken pox scare of VBS 2003” or the “fifths disease scare of toddler 2’s Sunday school 2001”.  I would periodically get the emails and phone calls from my friends saying that “so-and-so’s child has a rash” or “such-and-such is broken out all over his hands, feet, and mouth”, and my personal favorite, “such-and-such spent all night cleaning up throw up from so-and-so’s stomach bug”.  Fortunately, somehow, Maddie steered clear of all of those icky air born illnesses. 

There was a time when I may have slightly bragged about Maddie not ever really getting very sick.  She had the occasional ear infection, or runny nose, but she was never down for more than half a day or so.  And when she was, as a good first-time-mom, I always rushed her to the doctor to get medicine, not only so that she wouldn’t feel miserable, but also because I valued my sleep and didn’t want to mess up the great schedule that she was on. 

But I can’t help but think that one of those mysterious fevers when she was very little may have been “the one” that did all the auto-immune damage.  The pediatrician would say, “Marcie, it’s just a fever.  She checks out okay, so just treat it with over the counter medicine.”  So I did.  Children’s Tylenol and Children’s Ibuprofen were my best friends.

When she was diagnosed at 5, the endocrinologist said that judging from her terrible A1C score, (14.2~yikes!!) she probably had had diabetes (undiagnosed) for about 2 years or so.  My response was “Whaaaaaat?” 

Yep, that’s right.  For TWO whole years, my child lived with an undiagnosed chronic illness, without my knowledge, as I fed her all of the foods that she is NOT supposed to indulge in without some sort of insulin injection.  Nice, huh? 

I try to concentrate every day on how healthy Maddie is today, and how blessed we are to have her on her pump.  How she has more energy than myself and Shawn put together, how sweet, beautiful, and smart she is, and how she has so many friends that love being around her.  I can’t help but wonder about all of the “what ifs” but I guess I’ll never know….. 

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!!

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 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.