"Your son has diabetes"

The morning of Sunday, March 1, 2015, my son, Nathan, wouldn't stop vomiting. I had spent all night getting up repeatedly, helping him clean up vomit. He said he had a headache, but didn't have a fever. After each incident, he asked for more water, which he couldn't keep down. When we got up that morning, I told my husband I was taking Nate to the ER. I was worried he would be dehydrated.

9:30 - We arrived at the ER and checked in. Within 30 minutes, he was throwing up in the waiting room.

10:30 - We were moved to our own room. The doctor told us it was probably a migraine, but he wanted to do some routine tests.

12:00 - The doctor came back to us in the waiting room. He informed us that Nate's sugars were very high, and followed that statement with, "He has diabetes." His Blood Sugar was 383.

At this point, those three words felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach. Thankfully, my mom was with us, and her husband has diabetes (type 2). She immediately started asking questions while I left the room to call my husband. I couldn't help myself, but the way I initially told Mike (hubby) was via text. I didn't know what to do. I told him "he has diabetes. You need to come down here." At the time, he was at home with our daughter. The shock came on rather slowly. I knew I needed to keep it together for Nate, but at the same time I wanted to break down and cry.

15:45 - At this point, I was in the ambulance with Nate being transported to the Pediatric ICU 40 minutes away. Looking back it was a good amount of time, but at that moment, I had no idea how much time had passed. I was in a fog, just trying to calm my son who was being poked and prodded left and right. He had an IV hooked up to saline and insulin. He was extremely dehydrated. And he was told he couldn't eat or drink. All he kept asking for was food and water. He hadn't eaten since the night before and that was all gone after hours of vomiting.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was practically running behind the paramedics as they very quickly transported him to the 6th floor PICU. Nate was in good spirits (he's amazing), but I was falling apart. Every time a new person - nurse, doctor, my husband, anyone - came into the room, I cried. Why was this happening to us? Was this my fault? Am I being punished? He's so innocent. He doesn't deserve this. I couldn't stop questioning what was happening. His Blood Sugar was 404.

16:30 - I got my first food for the day. The nurse kicked me out of the room and told me that if I didn't get something to eat, I'd end up in the ER too and that wouldn't help Nathan. Alone, I found the cafeteria and ate with tears streaming down my face. Why do I get to eat while he's being told he can't eat until tomorrow.

Finally, my husband arrived at the hospital. While I was with Nate, Mike was getting our house, animals, and daughter taken care of. Thank God our parents live near us. They really stepped up and helped us immensely. I'm not sure what we would have done without them nearby.

18:30 - We were finally settled in and being told that Nate was going to be taken care of. A whole team of people were going to talk to us the next day and "educate" us on diabetes. In the meantime, we needed to get rest.

REST! How was I going to rest with my baby hooked up to machines and tubes? He would cry out wanting food and drink. I wanted to give him anything he asked for, and I couldn't. So, how do I rest? On top of that, Mike and I were told that if we were both staying the night, we would either share a twin pull out or one of us would have to sleep in the waiting room. This was our decision...

It was a tight squeeze, but we made it.

Monday morning, we woke to find his sugars were in the 200s. The doctors took him off the insulin drip and disconnected him from all the machines. We were ready to start learning. First, came the diabetes educators. For three hours, we went over what diabetes is, the difference between types 1 and 2, how to treat diabetes, and how our lives were going to change. When she left, we ate lunch and waited for step 2.

While we waited, we learned how to count the number of units of insulin Nate needed. We watched him get his first insulin injection in his stomach and we learned how to check our own blood sugars. I NEVER thought I'd ever have to do any of this. Preparing to prick my own finger, I was scared. I had no idea how my boy was going to get through this first step, but he did. We all did.

After lunch the nutritionist/dietitian came. For an hour we learned about counting carbohydrates to determine the amount of insulin Nate would get at each meal. Planning our meals is going to be a HUGE change. We are used to eating when hungry and grazing throughout the day. Now, every meal, every snack, every drink, will be intentional and planned.

After the nutritionist, I got to give Nathan his second shot. The day before I would have passed out from needles. Now, I'm an expert at drawing insulin from a vial, getting the air bubbles out of the syringe, and administering a shot in my son's stomach. It's really surreal.

Later in the day, the team continued. We saw case managers, social workers, and finally the endocrinologists. Each time, a new person came, I cried a little less. The care at Sutter was UNBELIEVABLY AMAZING! Every single person showed nothing but care and concern.

All the while, Nathan showed incredible strength. He was so brave and asked such wise questions. I have never been more proud.

By the night time, we were able to smile and laugh and relax. We were gaining a little bit of ground in the world of control.

Tuesday afternoon, we were discharged and sent home. Now we get to start a whole new normal. One that requires more steps than I can fathom. With every answer, comes another question.

Feeding Nate is scary. Giving him shots is scary. I don't want to hurt him, but I have to trust myself. He can't go back to school without a medical health plan and 504 in place. So Friday, we get to meet with people from his school and make a plan. They need to know what to do if something goes wrong. That idea scares me. If I'm nervous about taking care of him, how do I relinquish that control to someone else every day at lunch? I don't have a choice.

So now, my son's life and our family is forever changed. There's no turning back. Mike says our new family motto is "Keep Moving Forward" from Meet the Robinsons. We can't dwell on the past, so we need to embrace our new normal and evolve. It's scary as all Hell, but I have faith we will be ok. But just in case, say a little prayer for us and wish us luck.