Diagnosis Day

A mother knows when there is something wrong with her child. Something seemed off with True. He didn’t look right. He didn’t seem right. He seemed unusually tired. Todd said it was from starting middle school and getting up earlier, but he still didn’t seem right to me. He seemed thirsty to me, and told me he was going through his water bottles quickly at school. He also told me he was using the restroom between most of his classes. My mother instincts just told me something was wrong. I thought maybe he had a UTI, but I also thought in the back of my mind that those were symptoms of diabetes. I looked up his symptoms online and both were possibilities. Being a paranoid mother I wanted to rule them both out so I asked Todd to call the pediatrician and make an appointment on Thursday morning so that we could take him for labs, thinking they’d send me for a fasting glucose and UA on Friday morning – and thinking that it would suck having to wait the weekend for results.

On Thursday September 13, 2012 we had an appointment at our pediatrician in Ann Arbor right after school at 4:30. We were told to tell True to not use the bathroom after school as they would want a urine sample when he got to the office. I was a bit surprised by that since they don’t have a lab there, I didn’t realize they did any type of lab-type tests. We headed out at 3:45 for the long drive due to construction and we had plenty of time to chat. True was talking about how different school is this year, being at a new school. “Middle school is a game changer mom. It’s so differnet!  Life is a game changer!” I just nodded my head in agreement. “You’re right True. Life certainly is a game changer,” I said. Not knowing how in one short hour, how significant those words would be. 

We got to the doctor’s office and they had True do the urine sample right away. I had to explain to the poor boy how to pee in the cup and he laughed at the awkwardness of it. Then we saw Dr. S and he did a physical exam and asked some questions. Then he went and got True’s urine sample and did a dip stick. We sat there nervously waiting for the results to come up. I was waiting for it to show bacteria or something weird that would prove to be a urinary tract infection or something. I had no idea what to expect. I was truly ignorant. Then he nodded and said, “Yeah, this is what I thought when you described the symptoms. There’s glucose and keytones in his urine. It’s type I diabetes.” 

I was shocked. Absolutely shocked. I didn’t even know you could diagnose diabetes with a urine test. The first words out of my mouth were, “But we did everything right! I fed him well and he exercised a lot this summer!” Dr. S said, “It’s not that kind of diabetes. It’s type I, it’s not caused by diet and exercise. It’s just something that happens. The pancreas just stops producing insulin. There is nothing you could have done to prevent his.” 

I looked at True and he looked as blown away as I was. Dr.S said, “It’s getting close to 5:00. I need to get on the phone with the endocrinology doctors and see what they want you to do. The probably will want you to go right to the hospital. Probably through the ER. You have Blue Cross, right?” “Yes,” I said, Suddenly so grateful for our privilege of good health insurance, away of what that meant. “Good,” he said. “I’m going to call them and get ahold of them before they leave for the day.” 

He left us alone and that’s when True lost it. He burst into tears. “I have diabetes! My life sucks!” He knew what it meant. “I have to take shots for the rest of my life! My life is going to suck! This sucks!” I tried to hold it together but seeing him so shattered, tears filled my own eyes. I sat down next to him and held him as tight as I could. “I know it sucks, but we are going to get through this together.” And there we sat, our own little team of two, huddled together, bound in tears. I felt ashamed of crying, wanting to be strong for him, but I couldn’t help it. My heart was breaking for him. He was only eleven. I was devastated for what this meant for him. “Mama!” he said, “I know you love me because you’re crying too!” I held squeezed him a little tighter and kissed his sweet head. We sat there for a couple minutes and then I knew I had to pull it together. I wiped my tears and told him everything would be okay. “We have to call Daddy,” I said. I knew I couldn’t speak, so I texted Todd, “It’s bad. He has type 1 diabetes. I need you to leave work right now.” 

True continued to cry, and I wiped his tears. He thought it was because of something he did. I kept trying to convince him it wasn’t. After about ten minutes Dr. S came back in the room. I was still trying to console True. I said to Dr. S, “He’s taking this pretty hard. He feels like it’s because it’s something he did wrong.” He said, “No, it’s nothing you did wrong. It’s just something that happens. You couldn’t have prevented this.” I said, “It’s just bad luck True.” True nodded, and sniffled. My poor sweet boy. Dr. S told us that the endocrionology team wanted us to go right to the University of Michigan Children’s Emergency Room, and that we’d be admitted from there to Children’s Hospital probably for a few days, and that True would be treated with IV fluids and insulin and they would get us educated on how to manage the diabetes. “You can go home and pack a bag first if you want,” he told us. Which was a relief. We were already in Ann Arbor, but I knew True would want some things to keep him amused and I’d want some change of clothes as I knew I wouldn’t be leaving his side. 

I thanked Dr. S and we headed out. True started to cry again in the parking lot and said he wanted to call his brother and tell him. He called Tag from the car and told him. I have no idea what Tag said, but I know he was kind and supportive. I texted my sister and told her. I had told her earlier that I was worried about True but I’m that mom that’s kids cough and I think they have pertussis. I always think something is terribly wrong with them, and then it turns out they have a bad cold. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my paranoia would come true. 

To ease his pain a little I told True we’d buy him the new Super Mario game he’d wanted so badly to keep him busy in the hospital. “You get diabetes and a new game I said.” That cheered him up a bit. I told Todd to go pick it up and we’d meet him at home. By the time we drove through rush hour traffic True had settled down and was okay once we arrived home. The tears were gone and when we got home he went outside and told his friend Joey he had diabetes, like he’d known his whole life and like it was no big deal. I, on the other hand, was frantic. My sister called, and I was so grateful to talk to her while I was madly packing a bag that would last me several days. I’m so grateful to Kim for basically talking me off the ledge while I was losing it that day. She said all the right things. I threw together some clothes, my iPad, a couple water bottles and my phone charger and quickly fed True some dinner and within an hour we headed back to Ann Arbor to the hospital. 

We got to Emergency around 7pm. Not knowing that there is free Valet we parked in the garage and walked a couple blocks to the ER entrance which was rather comical and ironic. We didn’t feel like it was an emergency. There we were with True with his backpack, me with my large tote full of things and Todd with his big messenger bag like we were going to spend the night in a hotel. When we arrived they took True’s blood sugar and it 292. It was quite high compared to normal but not nearly as high as some we’ve heard. We caught this quite early – we were lucky. My mother paranoia paid off for once. We didn’t wait that long before they got us into a room. The Children’s Hospital is brand new – just opened last November and it was quite the set up. True was fascinated with the nice flat screen TV with movies and games in his room.

The young resident came in to examine him and I felt quite old. Residents are so young! When the nurse came in to start the IV I was really nervous. True has never even had a blood draw so I was really nervous as to what his reaction would be at the IV stick. Would he yell? Would he cry? What if they couldn’t get the IV started? What would he do? How would he react if they had to stick him more than once? It took the nurse forever to get all her supplies ready, as she was going to do all the labs from the IV stick. She went for the left arm, and sure enough, the stick didn’t take. True barely winced at it, much to my surprise. We distracted him with television, and he was so good about it. I was so relieved. But it didn’t take. She couldn’t even get blood from it. She went and got another nurse to do it. That nurse went for the left hand. That didn’t take either. After that, she got the doctor to do it. He found a vein in the crook of his right arm, which was a last resort spot because it basically meant he couldn’t move his right arm, but that’s where they put it. True never fussed at all through any of the needle sticks. I was so impressed and so proud of him. He takes after his mama and isn’t needle phobic at all. 

They got the IV going and put in a bolus in one hour to flush out the large amounts of keytones in his blood. We spent the majority of the evening just hanging out in the ER. We saw a couple residents, an intern, a very stupid medical student, an attending and multiple nurses. We were told he was going to be admitted either to the PICU or a regular medical floor depending on whether he’d need IV insulin or not. In the end, they decided to put him on a regular floor but there were no rooms open so we had to wait it out in the ER. I was worried I’d have to spend the night in the cramped ER on a very uncomfortable chair. Todd left around 10:30 and I stayed with True. Finally around 11:30 they got us a room. True said he hoped he wouldn’t have a roommate. 

They took us upstairs and we were both happy to see that all the rooms were private! True had a big private room with a nice big window and reclining chair and a chair that opened up into a bed for me. It was nearly midnight when we had to do an intake with the floor nurse. She was so sweet to us. Again in this room there was a large flat screen TV with internet so True played with that while I did the intake with the nurse. True seemed full of energy while I was exhausted. After the intake the “floor host” showed me around the unit and showed me where the “Nutrition Station” was – a nice little room with a coffee pot and cups and cupboards with snacks and cereals and soups for parents and a refrigerator with juice and milk and ice and such. By the time we were all settle in it was nearly 1am and then I insisted that True shut down his fancy little gaming system and go to bed. 

I knew that the next day would be a full day for us. We’d survived diagnosis day. We had no idea what was in store for us next. 

True in the ER.