The preschool our son attends is wonderful. His primary teachers have Dexcom Share on their phones, and we usually text several times a day about carbs or insulin dosing. Here’s a text we got a few days ago.
Yes, his teacher picked out a dried blueberry, raisin, cherry, craisin, and part of an apricot, weighed them, took a picture, sent a text, waited for an answer, and delivered insulin to our kid. In a preschool classroom. This is to say nothing of the Bakery Unit they had last month, which was also handled with care and attention.
This morning, Henry graduated from preschool. I have all the normal parent feelings of time passing too quickly, pride, and fear as my child grows bigger into a much bigger world. But, I also have caregiver-parent feelings, which are messier, more full of fear and dread. I try not to let those caregiver-parent feelings invade these happy milestone moments, like leaving preschool and starting kindergarten. However, milestone moments are inherently reflective. So, the thoughts of my son’s short, but complicated history, coupled with a future inextricably linked to a chronic disease, sometimes share space with joy. If I’m not saying this clearly, Pixar did: think of Sadness and Joy from Inside Out.
He’s five and has lived a life of more medical intervention than me, and most other people my age. His medical history (not all related to diabetes) is a long list of specialists: pediatric neurologist, neonatologist, ENT, immunologist, pediatric endocrinologist, infectious disease specialist, E.R. physicians, multiple anesthesiologists, and several primary care physicians. I stood beside his isolette in the NICU for weeks after his birth and climbed into five separate hospital beds with him over the past five years, and I know I’ll need to be prepared to climb in again.
I’ve seen my son, and he’s seen me, in really scary basins and valleys, so we’ve learned the value of looking at something else: a tenacious mountain goat climbing a rock face, a cool cat handing a diploma to a kid who is going to rock kindergarten.