What the hell just happened?

  My son, Ryan, was diagnosed with type one diabetes five days ago.

  Just writing that out is hard to do right now.

  I'm not in denial. I know what is going on and what has to be done now to keep him healthy (for the most part). But damn...What the hell just happened?
  "It's just allergies. That's what is wrong with him," I said a week ago. I took him to an urgent care type place last Saturday and they sent him home with antibiotics for a sinus infection. By Monday (which was Labor Day) I knew it was something more but never, never, never in my wildest imagination could I have guessed that my child was diabetic.

That was something that happened to other people's kids.

At 3:00AM on Tuesday morning I called his dr's office and spoke to the on call nurse. I told her what was happening and asked if I should go to the ER or wait until morning to make a regular dr appointment. She suggested I should just wait. So that's what I did...even though something in my gut told me to go to the hospital.
  A medical professional was telling me to just make an appointment, to wait. I have a tendency to over react and I have high anxiety that I take medication for daily so sometimes I depend on other people to keep me on track and tell me HEY, WEIRDO STOP FREAKING OUT!

I might not ever forgive myself for ignoring that instinct...that ingrained mother thing that was telling me that this was way worse than any infection.

My pediatrician's office opens at 7:30 I was there by 7:50.
After he had blood drawn for labs we went home to await results.

He was miserable, so very thin, and extremely lethargic. When I close my eyes at night that is what I see. My poor child, eyes dull and sunken in, rib cage and pelvic bones jutting out, pale gray tone to his skin...and I have to open my eyes again to rid myself of the image. It might be there forever...at this point I don't know. I hope not. I don't want to be haunted.

The call came around 11:30AM.

 "He is diabetic. You need to go to the ER. Pack a bag and go now."

I couldn't believe it. I was expecting, at worst, dehydration and a 24 hour hospital stay to administer fluids.

  I'm not even sure what I said on the phone to that nurse. I know I cried. I know I immediately went into full on panic mode. I know I threw random things into a bag, told my husband, who was thankfully home early from work, what was going on as best as I could, and we somehow got Ryan into the car.

We were advised by Ryan's Dr to go to LSU medical center. Yeah, it's in a horrible part of town and the ER overloaded with people that have issues ranging from stab wounds to the flu but that was where I was told the best doctor for this was located. They have a pediatric endocrinologist.

Fine.

I wanted to be at the best place for my son regardless of the sketchy locale.
  Then I carried Ryan into the LSU ER. It was something out of a nightmare. There was a woman wearing a shower cap ranting about her time in jail and about someone throwing a "cup of shit" on someone else. Her words not mine.

 I was terrified already because Ryan was so sickly and that awful waiting room only made my fear double. I wanted to take him and run but I knew he was so very sick and if I could just get through the next few minutes everything would be better.

His Dr had already called ahead so we got in within a half hour...lightning speed for a place like that. That was when we found out that his sugar was over 600. Meters only go up to 600...so we didn't know how high it actually was until we got into an ER room and saw the first of many nurses.

His blood sugar level was 900 and he was in diabetic ketoacidosis.
 (Diabetic ketoacidosis - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

They started giving him fluids and an insulin drip. This was of course after having to hold him down so they could put in the two IVs and listening to him scream and cry out in pain and fear.

My heart is broken into a million tiny shards from this week and it will take years for it to heal. There is nothing worse for a mother than watching your child suffer and be in pain. I would have thrown myself in front of a train without thinking if it meant he could avoid all of this... from the diagnosis itself to the countless pricks and pokes that he has had and will have to continue to endure.

We ended up having to be moved to another hospital due to the PICU being overcrowded at LSU. I rode with Ryan in the ambulance over to Willis Knighton-South.
I tried to make it an adventure when all the while I was dying on the inside a thousand times over.

  He requested music on the ride so I found CCR, Down on the Corner, on my phone and played it for him. In my opinion, that is one of the happiest songs that has ever been written. It's hard to feel sad when it's playing. It did conjure a small smile out of Ryan though it was weak and brief.

  We stayed at WK from Tuesday night to this morning, Saturday. It was a much better location than LSU and I felt comfortable with the nurses and doctors.
  The first thing the PICU Dr said to me after introducing himself was, "I know this seems overwhelming and I know you feel like this is too big for you but it will be ok. You will be ok. And we will get him better."

 Needless to say I had been crying off and on all day and was a total and complete wreck. I was crying as he told me this and could only nod my head in response.

  Over the first few hours information was dumped on our heads at such a rapid speed that I felt like I could drown in it. Blood sugar numbers, diabetic ketoacidosis, insulin drips and on and on.

  I know I have only mentioned my husband once but he was there, along with my mom, dad, and my grandfather (Paw-Paw) the entire time this was happening. I was, and perhaps still am, so lost in my own head over all of this that I might make it seem that I am dealing with this alone.

I'm not...
Not even close...but in that moment I felt that way. Alone in a crowded room watching my child lay in a hospital bed with tubes and wires running everywhere, begging us for something to drink (high blood sugar causes extreme thirst) and only being allowed to give him ice chips.

The first 24 hours were some of the most terrifying in all of my life. This includes the time Ryan spent in the NICU after being born 2 months early...or maybe that was just so long ago that I'm not remembering the fear the same way. Not remembering things like that can be a blessing. I hope it happens again one day with all of this. I hope I don't feel the things I feel right now forever.

As the days passed, Ryan got better. His sugars lowered and he started to look like himself again. He finally started laughing and smiling. Every time he smiles a tiny sliver of my heart mends itself back together.

The blood sugar testing sucks. The insulin injections suck more. I don't know another way to put it. What six year old likes shots? Especially when they happen 4 times a day on top of finger pricks.
  Learning how to administer the injections, how many units to give, the way he has to eat, and watching the clock for injection times, snack times, meal times...is exhausting.

I am tired in every way that a person can be tired. Mentally, physically, emotionally...right down to my soul...Tired.

We are home now, thank God, but the anxiety, worry, fear, exhaustion...all of that came with us.

The shots didn't get to stay at the hospital either, much to Ryan's dismay. We are trying to teach him about what is going on, how things have to be from now on, but...he's six. All he knows is that it's wildly unfair that he has to have shots before he can eat.

He tells us constantly that he wants it to go back to the way it was before the shots. He wants to eat whatever he wants and drink apple juice as much as he wants. He cries and screams when we give him injections and check his blood sugar. He cries when he thinks about the injections.

I cry about all of that too. Most of the time, at least in the last couple days, I've been able to do it when he can't see me. I'll leave the room and sob for a few minutes, dry my face off, take some breaths and go back to him.

This is so hard. 

People keep telling us that it gets easier and one day all of this will be normal routine. I'm sure they are right. But One Day is so far out of my line of sight right now that I can't even entertain the thought.

One Day they will have a cure for this. One Day we will be able to transplant pancreatic cells and eliminate diabetes all together.

One Day.

Right...Ok. But today, right now...I have to deal with this and it's awful.

In a future post I will have to talk about all the people that have helped us during this nightmare. There are many. From well wishes and prayers on FB to hospital visits and more. We are blessed to be surrounded by people that love and care for us.

But for now I think I'll put this post to bed. It's be a long, long day and there is no such thing as getting sleep in a hospital so I'm putting myself to bed too.

I have to get up at 2am to check Ryan's sugar again. Maybe I'll get lucky and he wont wake up.