About this time last year, Henry was taking a bath when he threw up. Matt began checking for ketones and calculating how much insulin he could or couldn’t give to a kid with a tummy bug, while I ran out to the grocery to purchase lots of soda, popsicles, and jell-o with sugar.
Tummy bugs are tricky with T1D. Ketones develop with sickness and when there’s not enough insulin to break down the glucose. In someone with T1D, what clears ketones is insulin and massive hydration, but when someone with T1D is vomiting, the person can’t keep the fluids down so that insulin can be administered safely. As ketones and dehydration increase, probably coupled with a low blood sugar, the likelihood of DKA
(diabetic ketoacidosis) increases. Usually, tummy bugs send Henry to the hospital. Sometimes we ride it out in the ER with an IV and sugar drip, and sometimes he’s admitted to the pediatric unit.
A year ago I was standing in line, anxious and worried, about to purchase a bunch of sugar. As the cashier was ringing my items she asked, “Are you planning a party?”
Hurried and harried, I replied, “Yeah, something like that.”
She then asked me if I’d like to donate a dollar to the JDRF and pointed toward a stack of papers in the shape of sneaker. Our local grocery store participates in the JDRF sell a sneaker campaign, where a person can add $1 to his or her total and the money goes to the JDRF. The total irony of that insane d-moment sunk in, and I inhaled to stop any feeling from overwhelming me.
I said yes, and signed Henry’s mom dx’d 3/6/14 then ran to my car, hoping to get all this sugar home in time to help. A few hours later found us in the ER, and Henry recovered quickly.
There are significant dates, diaversaries (diagnosis + anniversaries), and yearly campaigns, that mark the emotional passage of time that comes from living with a chronic condition. Last week I was standing in the grocery store, purchasing food for dinner, Henry was healthy, playing in the snow at his preschool, a young boy had just passed away from complications resulting from T1D, DKA, and a tummy bug. The clerk asked if I’d like to donate a dollar to the JDRF.
I said yes, and signed Henry’s mom dx’d 3/6/14 then walked to my car, thinking about Andrew’s family, about Henry a year ago, about the relentlessness of time across a chronic condition.
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