Thursday, November 10, 2011

Three Years

3 years
36 months
1095 days
26,280 hours
1,576,000 minutes
94,608,000 seconds that we have lived with diabetes...not turned our back on it...not let it out of our thoughts for even one of those seconds.

8,760 finger pokes
325 site changes
125 sensor insertions
1,248 4oz juice boxes consumed to treat a low
36 vials of insulin
1 opened, but unused (thank GOD) glucagon kit
30% more grey hair for me and Sugar Daddy
$17,000.00 in medical bills, devices and prescriptions (and worth EVERY penny!)
Countless tears...and even more hugs and kisses.

We have kept our son happy and healthy in spite of it.
Kept our son ALIVE in spite of it.
Three years also means 1095 mornings that we have woken up with our first thoughts leading us to listen intently to the sounds coming over the monitor.  To listen for his sweet sleep filled breaths or his rustling as he himself comes awake.  1095 sighs of relief that we made it through another night. 

Last night, right before bed, I checked his sugar as I always do.  This is what I saw:

It took my breath away.  No, that does not describe it well enough.  It knocked the breath out of me.  Like a hard punch to the gut.  I scooped him in my arms and carried him to the pantry where we keep the juice because I was unwilling to let him out of my site for even one second after that number made its appearance.  Three years later I still have that reaction.  It took almost an hour for my hands to stop shaking.  It took almost two hours for my stomach to stop aching from that punch to the gut that I took.  It just goes to show... all those stats up there don't mean squat.  They are just numbers.  Its the moments like that, when you have a 26 staring back at you and your blood runs cold to think that your son is just 26 points away from potentially losing his life that define this disease. 

And that is why today we will celebrate.  We will mark this three year diaversary with a party... and a dinner full of his favorite foods... and a dessert with a big ole slice of chocolate (gluten-free) cake.  Because he is ALIVE.  And he is HEALTHY.  And he is and forever will be, our Sugar Boy.


  1. I can only imagine your fear of that 26. That would floor me, too. I feel so fortunate when we discover these numbers in time.

  2. I cannot imagine how you felt. I know how it feels to be the person with a 26 (well 27 in my case) but the helpless feeling of watching it from the outside, for some reason, seems so much harder.

    That is why all the parents like you have definitely earned the Type Awesome title!

    And happy Diaversary to your "sweet one".