Usually I see the light, sometimes though the dark

Ya know, the mind is a funny thing.  It sometimes does some weird things, things to protect itself I guess; things done without a conscious thought.  I came across a couple videos this past weekend and posted them in the "About Diabetes" section of the "Top Vids" tab.  They really got me thinking.

I came to the conclusion that I've become somewhat de-sensitized to D.  I know I've never lost sight of the fact that we need to keep Jonathan in his "Goldilocks Zone" and that's really important - life and death important, but after watching those two videos I realized that things aren't as great as they seem to be.  Yeah, Jonathan has had some respectable numbers and is trucking along quite well, but some how in dealing with the day to day I feel like I've lost sight of the bigger picture - he has a disease that he may very well have for the rest of his life and to make matters worse, it could be that very disease that will be his end.

I certainly hope, and I pray every night that it won't be the case, but that dark reality does loom over us.  I guess the thin silver lining of that cloud is that it reinforces my drive to do everything I can to help make a difference.  I can't think of anything I wouldn't do for my son (or daughter for that matter) - if it were as simple as swapping pancreas' this would already be over for him.

Aside from what the doctors have been able to tell us about theories and what we've read on our own, I have no idea how or why Jonathan got Type 1 Diabetes.  I know he certainly didn't do anything to deserve it - and neither sis anyone else that has it.  I can't define it any way other than it's a horrible truth that we didn't miss out on.  I know it's reasonably possible that Jonathan will live a long and healthy life and staying on the straight and narrow could dodge the pitfalls of this disease, but it's going to be a long and sometimes really hard road.  If, God willing, he makes to the same point that his great-grandfather is at right now, he's 1/113th of the way [(91years old - 4at Dx)*12 months / 9.25 months since Dx].

If any of my Facebook friends have looked closely at my profile, they will have noticed the one thing that I believe more than anything else about family: "Our children are our greatest legacy we leave to this world. It is not only our privilege, but our responsibility to ensure their future success."  When I wrote that, I had no idea where we would be today, I certainly hadn't guessed that he'd have D dogging him through life.

I try to stay positive that things will be alright.  I try to stay optimistic that "the cure is five years away" will soon read "four" and then "three" and eventually "now".  I try to keep a brave face when he's looking, even though deep down inside I know that it's far more dangerous than he realizes.  I want him to grow up and not be held back by this burden.  Although he's young and will likely change his mind several dozen times, I hope he does see his current dream through and become a doctor.  I think if he were the one to eventually find a cure (yes even insulin was born in Canada) I would probably explode, but I hope someone beats him to it.

At the end of the day, it is what it is.  Even if I could go back in time, I'd have no idea how to change it.  It makes me wonder if parents of children with diseases and other issues aside from diabetes feel the exact same way.  I honestly can't think of another disease that requires so much monitoring and so much therapy and has every day tip-toeing on a tightrope.  I've managed to somehow convince myself of an illusion that everything is OK and we're really in a good spot all in all, but the reality is that we walk a narrow winding road and the edge is closer than it appears.  Maybe when I wake up tomorrow that line will be a little blurrier again.

A little bit about the last few days and a reminder to me of how lucky I am

Well, it's been almost a week since the accident.  It's been a crazy week.  Jonathan's day time numbers have been good, but he goes high at night inexplicably.  We had to replace the Malibu, so we got the Caravan we were planning on getting in a couple years and we pick it up Friday - and not a moment too soon for my PT Cruiser loaner hating wife.  Jonathan is doing well otherwise however he did not enjoy our little game of "remove the stitches" at the doctors office yesterday.

This past Saturday was a beautiful day and we finally pulled off our JDRF car wash - I have the bright red sun burn to prove it.  We did alright.  We had a fair bit of traffic however, we actually pulled in more donations three weeks earlier in the rain; mostly thanks to family.

I've been spending the last few evenings plugging away at my calling list for the walk.  I was a little hesitant about calling complete strangers to get them registered for the walk and feared I'd be treated like a telemarketer but out of about 60 or so calls, only one person seemed mildly upset that I rang his phone.  It's actually been a great experience.  Most everyone has been really nice and some have chatted up a storm.  It was kind of like the DOC, but talking instead of typing.  There were a few moms and dads that I spoke with for upwards of a half an hour, but there was one that really got to me.  The last call on the last list was to a mother of a 4 year old boy that was diagnosed about a year ago.  She has not previously participated in a walk but had contacted our local JDRF office about other matters.  She told me that she really wants to bring her son out and have a great experience with him, but she is still having a really hard time dealing with his diagnosis, emotionally.  I could tell from the sound in her voice that she was on the verge of crying the whole time and it reminded me of the fine line that I walk.  I can get pretty worked up rather easily and I tip-toe around a precipice when it comes to the kids and "bad stuff".

Honestly, judging from the name on the list, I was expecting an eastern European lady that I had a 50/50 chance of understanding, but instead when she was handed the phone I heard a soft sweet voice that came through crystal clear.  I was totally not expecting to hear what she had to tell me, but it was quite evident that this poor lady had been mourning her son's diagnosis for the last year and from all indications has been facing this alone.  It made me realize, or re-realize just how lucky we've been.  Our supporters number now in the dozens, more than a dozen dozens, in fact if I counted every person that has at least shared an encouraging word or offered of themselves to help improve our lives I'd be here a long time counting.  But it seems that this mother has had virtually no one.

I did the only thing I could do.  I gave her my phone number and told her she could call me anytime.  Her son is a little younger than Jonathan and I suggested that we get them together to play and share a meal so that they both know that they are not alone.  And I offered to have our community outreach coordinator call her and let her know about events in our area that type 1 families would be gathering at.  That's about all I could do.  It's saddening to be so clearly reminded that not everyone is as blessed as we are to have an awesome support network, but at the same time it reminds me how thankful I am for the DOC and all our supporters.  Thank you everyone!

The worst day of my life since the worst day of my life

Update: May 26th, 17:45ish: Well, I guess it's been quite obvious what my mind has been on the last 4 days.  I intend for this to be my last update to this post; close out the file as it were.  We finally got pictures of the car today.  There is no doubt about it, that truck was pointed directly in Jonathan's path.  I am thankful beyond words for how minor his injuries were compared to "what could have been".  When I started this blog and said that there is surely more to come, I had no idea what was coming, but I thank God for watching over Jonathan and his mother and sister and I thank all of you for your kindness and support!

Update: May 25th 17:45ish:  I know that re-posting the same post with updates may seem somewhat unorthodox, but I've got two good reasons: 1)  I wanted to keep the whole thing together, and 2) It's my blog, lol.

Jonathan had his bandages removed today (what looks like a 5" stair-case shaped cut is actually 14 individual lacerations from the glass).  As a result of a bit of a scare this morning we were back at the ER.  During breakfast, Jonathan announced that he was "seeing sparklies".  This passed quickly but shortly thereafter he was fidgeting with the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes, and saying "something's happening".  So, back to the ER it was.

Unbelievably, he was in a bed in a little under 10 minutes (they don't screw with kids here) and he had a student doctor check him out, then a nurse, then another nurse, then the ER doctor.  He was back to his usual self by now and a bit hungry from missing morning snack.  All his reflexes were in check, muscle control normal, eyes all good, and so on and so forth.  The ER doctor said she would order another cat scan if I really wanted to, but I also had to consider that this would expose him to more radiation and is very likely going to come out the same as the one the day before.  We agreed however that if he were to "see sparklies" again or have a headache, we should come right back in and they'd do the scan.


So far so good the rest of the day.  He's still happy and playful.  The sight of his cuts really upset him so we're trying to keep him away from mirrors.  We will be keeping a close eye on him and he will be staying home from school tomorrow with mom.


I don't have any pictures of the car yet, but we've been told it's a write-off... I guess that mini-van is coming sooner than planned.  Honestly, I really don't care about the car, or having a second car payment.  Even though the picture looks nasty (the one without the gauze is a little more dried blood and stuff I thought I'd spare the world), it was very minor compared to what could have been without a car seat or seat belt.  I have no doubt in my mind that infant-toddler-booster seat saved him a lot of pain and anguish; great investment.  It's toast now, but I'm going to drop the bucks on a full back, bolstered booster seat and I'm not even going to bat an eyelash.


Thank you to all for your kind words and prayers.  This really is a great group there!!!

Update: May 24th 12:30: He was discharged from the hospital about an hour and a half ago.  He is to be fully supervised for the next 48 hours and is to see out family doctor ASAP after today (holiday here).  He will likely be back at school on Thursday.  Mom and sister are fine; they sustained no injuries except a couple faint scratches from flying glass.  Jonathan is not happy that we're not taking him outside to play on this beautiful day, but maybe tomorrow we'll go for a walk around the block.  The stitches that aren't dissolving will likely be pulled out next Monday.  I am very very thankful that it wasn't worse... it could have been a lot worse! 


Update: May 24th 05:40: He ate at about 8pm and we watched some TV. He's slept through the night. We "woke him up" once to check him, but he was his usual self and did not want to wake up (he showed normal responses though). His BG went up a bit while on the IV but came back down on their own (8.8 @ 4am). He's still sleeping but hopefully it will be business as usual in a few hours.

Original post, May 23rd, evening:
This is one of the ones that I wish I never had occasion to post. The phone call no parent ever wants to get. The one to tell you that your family is surrounded by EMTs, Firefighters, and Police.

A mere four blocks from home, my wife's car (02 Chevy Malibu) was struck during a left hand turn by a full-size pickup truck. The rear passenger door was pushed in a good foot to a foot and a half and the windows shattered. The car was thrown back about 20 feet.

The good news is, he's ok. He took some glass in the side of the head and there was a fair amount of blood, but the glass has been removed and there seems to be no other trauma and nothing detectable near the eye. The cat scan showed nothing wrong and he's had chest and neck x-rays (yet to be developed).

He's a little groggy still from the sedative they gave him but he's in good spirits. The ER staff is absolutely floored at how good he's been about the whole thing. I wasn't with him when it happened, but I saw him on the gurney next to the car (lost it for the first time) and he was just laying there looking at me, said hi and smiled. I saw him in the ER (lost it for the fourth time) and he was just chillin. When he went for the cat scan they said he was remarkably well behaved.

Amazingly this seemed to have no impact what so ever on his blood sugar. I thought for sure he'd be stressed out to no end and his BG through the roof, but he was at 3.6 at about 4pm and after being on an IV for an hour that had doubled. He's dipped less than 1 an hour since is Lantus injection, but I'll be keeping an eye on him all night - both his BG and waking him up from time to time.

He wants to play, but I think we'll just sit back and watch some TV and hang out. This has been the worst day since D-day, I don't want any more of these.