Through a Dark and Terrifying Door

Today I walked through a dark and terrifying door. I took my five-year-old to the pediatrician's office for what seemed to be a simple urinary tract infection. He had been listless, pale, and urinating a lot. He was running a low-grade fever, and his skin seemed unusually dry. His other symptoms, eating and drinking more than usual, I chalked up to nothing more severe than a summertime growth spurt.

While we waited in the tiny room in the doctor's office, I mentally planned the rest of the evening. What to feed the kids for dinner, when to make jam with the 18lbs of blueberries in the fridge, which load of laundry to put in the washing machine next. I read the kids (yes, I had all three with me) a couple of stories. I commiserated via text message with my friend who's husband just threw his back out and can't work. I expected to get a prescription for antibiotics, and run to the local grocery store for the prescription and some cranberry juice. I expected.

I don't imagine I'm the only one in the world who has ever felt this way- blown away and reeling, clutching at each firm thing in the world while still expecting it to dissolve.

Well, our pediatrician walked through the door, and told me that Z didn't have an infection, but that she needed to prick Z's finger. As soon as she told me that, it was as though the kaleidescope of symptoms spun and snapped into place. Even as I asked the question, "You think it might be diabetes?" I knew. How could I have missed it? It was so obvious!

His blood sugar was so high it defied the meter to calculate it. His ketones were moderate to large (I think I know what that means now). Our pediatrician debated whether we needed to have an ambulance transport him to Seattle Children's or if we could make the lengthy drive in our car. We determined that the car was fine. She called Children's, I called friends. Within minutes I had a friend's husband at the pediatrician's office picking up Z's little sisters. What a relief.

Three hours (and 8 toilet trips) after his initial diagnosis, Z was admitted to Seattle Children's via the ER. His blood sugar was 413. He was started on IV insulin and saline almost immediately. We were moved to the Endocrinology department around 10pm, and Z has his own room where he is watching something Disney with the volume turned down, and drowsing in between blood sugar checks. They have to check hourly, but every other hour they draw from an extra IV in one of his arms so he doesn't wake up.

I am exhausted. I am stressed. My husband is on the way home from what was supposed to be a 50 mile hike with the boy scouts. My girls are with babysitters. My phone is dying, I have no charger, and it is too late to call anyone. I feel so alone.