I don’t think I need to belabor the point about how awful
COVID has been – it’s been pretty much the same all around. The mental health toll this pandemic has
taken on everyone, especially our younger generations, will be felt for years
to come.
For us, we came out of the gate like a race horse, certain
to beat boredom with creativity. We put
together new activity schedules, crafts-of-the-day, game nights…anything to
make passing the time more tolerable. We
packed in walks at every possible break, walking the neighborhood, the harbor,
the beach, World’s End. I was grateful
from the start that Coleman liked to walk.
We had a lot of family time, and brought back, like so many of you did, Cocktail
Hour, giving decency to drinking before five.
We zoomed with friends near and far, laughing over the craziness of it
all, and we baked and cooked like life was surely ending. But life didn’t end, and as the days grew
into weeks grew into months, our waistlines widened, our enthusiasm waned, and our
focus became fixated on when it would all end.
Coleman was no different, except the uncertainty of what was
happening definitely confused him and provided a significant boost to his
anxiety. The ‘School is broken’ phrase bought us a lot of
time, but as summer approached, I think Coleman accepted that school would
never be back. He accepted that his
friends were gone, that his social groups were gone, and that our extended
cousins and family were gone. He stopped
asking when we could see them and I stopped telling him ‘soon’. His days were unbelievably long – but he
found some serenity in his daily activity schedule and going for walks. We walked A LOT.
Around the beginning of June, Coleman got sick. We assumed it was COVID, and after talking
with his doctor, we headed into Children’s.
He was vomiting and lethargic, but had no fever. They allowed Billy and I to both be there,
and when we arrived, they took us immediately. The drew
labs and, after a while, the doctor came in to say it they were just waiting on
some additional lab results, because one his numbers was high. I think Billy and I both had the same
thought: Leukemia was back. “What number was high?” I asked, dreading the
answer. “His sugar" he replied.
There was a time when I would not have known what those
words meant. But 8 years ago, I heard
those exact same words at the pediatrician’s office with Emma. She had been having terrible, frequent headaches. After an initial exam, the doctor said “I’d
like her to pee in a cup.” When he
returned after reading the results, he closed the door behind him and took a
deep breath. He quietly said “Emma’s blood
sugar is very, very high. You’re going
to need to head into Children’s Hospital.
She has diabetes.” I said “you
mean you think she has that, right? Can’t something else be making it high?” He
shook his head. “I’m really sorry but
there is only one reason for high blood sugar like this and that’s diabetes.”
There are two different types of Diabetes, aptly named Type
1 and Type 2. In Type 2 diabetes, your
body still makes insulin but it is resistant to it and may not make enough of
it. Type 2 is more likely to occur in
people who are over the age of 40, overweight, and have a family history of
diabetes.
Type 1, often referred to as Juvenile diabetes, is an
autoimmune disease where the body attacks its own beta cells in the pancreas. Beta cells make insulin, a hormone your body
needs to allow glucose (obtained from food you eat) to pass from your blood into
your body’s cells. Without insulin,
glucose can’t make its way into your cells, and ends up circulating in your
blood. High blood sugars can cause
headaches, dizziness, and eventually DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis) which can be
deadly.
Normal blood sugar ranges are around 90-100; Emma’s blood
sugar when she was diagnosed was nearly 500.
Before 1922 when Insulin was discovered, Type 1 diabetics died. But lucky for us, Emma was able to get the
insulin she needed and lived. Still, her life has
been very different since that day. She has
to count the carbs in every bite of food she eats, and calculate the amount of
insulin she needs to give herself to ‘cover’ those carbs. It’s a delicate balancing act: too little
insulin leads to high blood sugars, too much insulin leads to ‘lows’ that can
literally kill you. All on the shoulders
of a ten year old. For many years, she
had to have 5 or 6 insulin shots daily.
Now she has an insulin pump, eliminating the daily shots, but she must still
remain vigilant in counting carbs and watching blood sugars. It’s a lifelong disease without a cure.
So you can imagine my reaction when the doctor said Coleman’s
blood sugar was high. I could not believe it. “Are you telling me he has diabetes?” I asked
incredulously. He seemed surprised that
I knew that was what a high blood sugar meant.
“Yes. We’re just checking now to
see if he’s in DKA” and turned and left the room. Billy and I stared at each other in
disbelief. “Did he just say Coleman has
diabetes?” Billy asked. I nodded
silently, already wondering how the hell we would manage this.
But God is good, and we have managed it. Coleman is an absolute rock star. He handles the 5-6 daily shots like a
champ. He reluctantly allows us to
attach to his arm every 10 days a device that actively reads his blood sugar,
sounding an alarm when he gets low and preventing a devastating outcome. He tolerates nurse visits, blood sugar finger
pricks, and the occasional 11pm force of juice to bring up a low. We are
lucky I guess that we went through it already with Emma – we knew exactly what
we were in for. But it’s a lot. A lot for him, and a lot for Emma. A lot for any kid to try to manage when honestly,
being a kid these days is hard enough.
So there you have it.
Our first IT’S NOT COVID visit to Children’s. That's right, I said First. I warned you I had no good news to share.
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