My son was diagnosed with Type 1 last July, while we were on vacation in Florida. After reading the stories of others, I consider ourselves lucky. No DKA and we only spent two nights in the hospital.
When he was discharged, I remember driving away from the hospital with an overwhelming sense of panic. I felt so helpless. Only two days spent learning how to keep him alive. It didn’t seem like enough time. All of the information was spinning around in my head. I could only think to myself “How are we going to do this?” Of course, I didn’t say that out loud. I didn’t want to scare him. I didn’t want him to feel the fear I was feeling.
It didn’t even matter that my husband of 9 years had Type 1. I felt like I knew nothing.
He was starving. He begged for something besides hospital food, but I wouldn’t even consider fast food drive through because I didn’t know the exact carb counts of the food. (duh, you can look them up)
He fell asleep on the hour drive to my mother-in-law’s house and instant alarms went off in my head….Is he high? Is he low? Should I climb into the back seat of the rental car and check his sugar? I felt so out of control.
On the radio, a song played and she was singing my thoughts…
“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now, a wish right now.”
I would have given anything at that moment for one wish….
It’s been nearly 10 months since his diagnosis. Now, things seem normal. We are calm. We know what to do and when to do it.
Today, he had his quarterly endo appointment. The hour drive in bumper to bumper traffic stunk, but the 6.4 A1C result was worth it. When I heard the number, I smiled.
A lot of days I feel like a failure. I fault myself for the highs and lows. I blame myself for miscounting carbs or underestimating the impact of exercise.
But today……today was good…..I’m still smiling!