Sick days have come and gone throughout the course of this past year and a half of managing my son’s Type 1 Diabetes, all without incident. This week, everything changed. The dreaded return to the hospital inched closer and closer.
Carter started a fever on Wednesday afternoon, an afternoon where we happened to be on our second day of a mini vacation and 300 miles away from home. I monitored his symptoms and fever, and Thursday morning his ketone strip showed he had large ketones. Carter hasn’t had ketones since his diagnosis in November 2013.
At first I panicked, then I called Carter’s Endocrinologist. We walked through the care I needed to provide, and we headed home. By Thursday night I had reduced his ketones from large to moderate. By Friday morning his ketones were back up to large. It was then that I decided to take him to the Children’s Hospital.
Since this was the hospital he was diagnosed at, walking in after almost two years was rough. I felt a twinge if PTSD as we entered the hospital. Being in the ER was new, but when we were admitted, walking onto the peds floor, the smell of it took me back to November 2013, Carter’s diagnosis. I was overwhelmed with heartache.
Being a parent, especially one to a child with a disability, carries an extra heavy weight with it. The decisions we have to make aren’t always the easiest ones, often times they involve admitting our child to the hospital where we know there will be pain and suffering in order to catch up to survival.
Watching my now 3-year-old struggle with fear while we sat waiting for the IV to be put in was horrible. I wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and walk out of the hospital and go home. I knew that wasn’t an option. I knew if my son had any chance of getting over this virus without entering into Diabetic Ketoacidosis remaining and getting an IV was the only solution.
Being in the hospital with the year and a half’s worth of knowledge we reluctantly have learned made this stay extra frustrating and difficult. Knowing the specific things that worked for Carter within his care and having pushback from the nurses who weren’t familiar with managing Type 1 Diabetes in such a young child was unbelievably frustrating. Yet it reminded me that no matter the situation, even with medical staff, I am always my son’s best advocate.
Reliving what we went through at diagnosis, thankfully on a smaller scale, brought back so many old feelings, and unwrapped scares I thought I had successfully allowed to heal. I started to get angry, but decided to pour that anger and sadness into fighting harder for a cure.
Although our latest overnight stay at the hospital was difficult emotionally and physically draining, it was necessary for Carter to get well. It also allowed us as a family, included Carter to grow when it comes to managing Type 1 Diabetes in him. We are now all acutely aware of new ways to assist in reducing a hospital stay, and were reminded how quickly things can change when it comes to life with Type 1 Diabetes.