You know it’s bad when the doctor looks scared

I’ve never dragged my children anywhere but when the cab arrived, I had to physically drag R. outside. She didn’t want to move and was barely conscious. Even at 10 and having lost weight overnight, she was too heavy for me to actually hoist over my shoulder or anything as heroic looking as that. I suppose that’s what the made for tv movie would have for directions…

Maureen:

come on, sweetie, you’ve got to get up, the cab is here

(pulls child to sitting position, turns to get shoes as child flops back on couch)….

no, sweetheart don’t lie down again…here, let’s get your shoes on…

(takes deep breath, grits teeth, steely glint appear in eyes)

Oh, the hell with it,

(reaches down, puts arms under child’s arms)

come to momma!

(grunts and in one swift move pulls child up and then over left shoulder)

if the doctor wants you to wear shoes, she can damn well put them on you herself…

(grabs coat, purse and in one swift motion pulls the door open and then slams it behind her. scene shift: pov: through a car window – background sound, car engine idling, cab dispatch radio and a local country music station weave together – camera focuses on front door of house as woman emerges with child slung over shoulder. The door slams and she runs down the steps towards the cab)

I see either Jodie Foster or Sigourney Weaver playing me.

Anyway, repeat process of dragging, sweet talking and coaxing the semi-comatose child out of the cab, into the elevator and into the doctor’s office. At this point the hard edged receptionist didn’t even wait till we sat down – she grabbed the other arm and helped me guide my baby into an examining room.

There are two things Dr. Sidhu can be counted on: if you have the first appointment in the morning, she will be there at least 10 minutes after you arrive. The other thing is that once she is in the examining room with you, you have her total attention. No one ever complains about waiting an extra half hour or more past the scheduled appointment time before finally seeing her because you know when you need that extra time, she’ll be there for you.

So, in comes the good doctor, smiling and apologizing for being late. She stops in mid-sentence, takes one look at the patient, then at me and asks, “how long has she been like this?” I start with the camping trip and she stops me before I get more than a few words out…”No, I mean like this…” I’ve never heard her use that voice before, no nonsense, give me straight information right now and only the vital details type of George Clooney on ER voice.

She grabs a glucose meter, and a lancet, takes R.’s hand and pokes a finger to get a drop of blood (this is the first time I’ve seen this done anywhere outside of a blood donor clinic; now it is a four/five times a day routine sort of thing). We look at each other in surprise when the test strip fails to soak up the drop of blood. Dr. Sidhu looks closer… it can’t take a reading, she says, because the blood is too thick to be absorbed. I look closer. It’s like syrup. Suddenly the doctor is holding out a sample bottle and pulling us both down the hall to the private bathroom.

So there I squated, attempting to hold my daughter upright on the toilet with one arm and holding the sample jar between her legs, patiently cooing like when she was much younger, still in toilet training. “Can you pee a bit for me, sweetie?…come on, just a bit…thats a good girl. Do you want a drink of water? will that help? Here, let me put a warm cloth on your hand…finally she manages a dribble and fortunately I’m able to catch it in the jar. It’s amazing what constitutes a victory some days.

As I pull her clothes back on and drag her back to the examining room, the doctor takes the jar, stirs it with a stick.

You need to get her to the hospital right now. I’ll call an ambulance if you don’t have a car here.

Mark just gets to the waiting room as we are discussing this – he couldn’t concentrate at work and drove to the doctor’s office.

The doctor stressed the importance of going directly to the hospital. She will phone ahead but don’t wait. If for any reason the emerg desk hasn’t gotten the message tell them this is not a fuck around situation and get her inside. Okay, that’s the screen play version, I don’t think the good doctor would drop the f-bomb regardless of the situation. (Dr. Sidhu would be played by Archie Panjabi – the older sister in “Bend it Like Beckham” because she’s the only Indian actress I can think of who is anywhere near as tall as my doctor – she’s a big girl…like a lot of Indian women, actually)

 

 

And now a word from our Sponsor

Frederick Banting

This is the man who saved millions of lives, including my daughter’s. Sir Frederick Banting didn’t create insulin. He did take a look at what others had discovered about the pancreas, it’s role in digestion and what might work in bringing about an effective extract from it. Insulin was a shadow substance at that time, it’s existence postulated by others before and even at the same time Banting was doing his research.

This is the part my friends in PETA will protest strongly about. You see what Banting and his partner Best, did was use 10 dogs to isolate the substance being produced by a certain part of the pancreas by means of shutting down all it’s other functions…then making an extract and injecting it into another dog from which they had deliberately removed the pancreas. The result was the liquid from the one dog kept the other dog alive.

It took a few more dogs and pancreas from other animals to fine tune the process. The University of Toronto professor who was sponsoring Dr. Banting’s experiments went from sceptical to quite interested once it was apparent the good doctor was actually on to something. Finally James Macleod was to actually walk off with half of a Nobel prize for his role in being somewhere else while the work was done. Banting actually protested that Macleod recieved fully half the credit while Charles Best was not mentioned. Banting decided to share his half of the prize with Charles Best.

Speaking of PETA, one of the true ironies of all this is that while the organization protests any form of animal testing, the senior Vice President of the organization, MaryBeth Sweetland, is a Type 1 diabetic. She justifies her use of insulin, which does contain some elements of animal product and was developed through extensive animal testing, by saying “I need my life to fight for the rights of animals”.

And Hitler was a vegetarian – he couldn’t bear to think of an animal being harmed or killed when there were perfectly decent vegetable alternatives. Jews, Romanies, political dissidents, Catholics and Catholic priests, homosexuals and Poles, however…

There’s sick and then there’s sick

One of the problems most parents come up against is wondering if your child is just sick or has something really serious. This goes beyond the usual “My stomach hurts” didn’t-do-homework flu. Every child drags their feet in some way at some time and my personal philosophy has always been that if he or she is doing well in school, cutting them a little slack now and then is okay. Sometime they just need to stay home for a day and flake out on the couch. After they finish whatever homework is at the root cause of the mystery ailment, of course.

Because of Type 1’s vague initial symptoms and the ease with which they can be applied to something else, it’s pretty easy to put off going to the doctor. The other side of the coin is some parent’s I’ve talked to took their child to the doctor at the beginning of the onset of symptoms only to be told it’s just a flu or there’s nothing to indicate anything serious – of course these diagnosis were made without the benefit of a simple finger poke to test blood sugars or even sending the child for a fasting blood sugar lab test.

There are doctors out there who have an image in their heads that all mothers spend every hour of every day pouring over medical books, watching drug ads and cruising the internet for new symptoms to obscure diseases they or their child just might have. Marcus Welby syndrome or, more accurately, Munchausen by proxy, is always floating in the back of their heads. That and the tendency of doctors, unfortunately mostly male, to discredit the concerns of women. There, I said it. Not all doctors are like this and most of them were educated before the 70’s when concepts like bedside manner and spending time with your patient were given all of 10 minutes in the curriculum at medical schools. Fortunately, like wearing one’s second best suit into surgery, this attitude has been slowly phased out of medical training.

When we came back from our camping trip, I made an appointment with the doctor for my sugar lump in a week, the afternoon after Labour Day, when she’d be home from that first day back to school. She seemed a little cranky and not terribly enthusiastic about anything – a little bit of maybe a cold coming on?; a little bit of not really too keen on going back to school? Except this is a kid who liked school and was keen on seeing all her friends again. So, another nagging doubt about just what was going on, another check on my list of why this just might be….

Both the girls went for a sleep over at Granny’s house. When we picked them up the change in sweetums was noticeable. She was listless, pale and not at all interested in having breakfast at the restaurant where we’d met Granny.  She expressed concern over the symptoms Rachael was showing and agreed with me there was something very wrong I assured granny the the girl was scheduled to see our doctor the next day.

That night things progressed rapidly as she got more ill and listless. I considered taking her into the emergency ward but hesitated, again. I tried to detect any sweetness or aldehyde smell on her breath – the same smell you get from someone who’d been drinking heavily hours earlier – but there was nothing. She vomited and seemed to shrink in front of our eyes. My husband was also concerned but still thought it was probably a flu.

The next morning, she was hard to wake, got up, walked to the couch and lay there. Both my husband and I were shocked to see she appeared to have lost 10 pounds quite literally overnight. Then I phoned the doctor and said I was bringing her in as soon as posssible.

Step one – what’s wrong with my kid?

She’s drinking water all the time, or pop and, of course, has to pee every five minutes. This is how it usually starts. By this time you are well on the way to joining the ranks of a parent of a child with Type 1 diabetes.

In our case, I’d suspected it might be diabetes when we were camping and my little sweetie would be in tears because we told her she couldn’t have a can of pop after supper. I was tired of getting awoken twice a night to walk down the road to the toilets with her and we figured maybe if she didn’t drink anything after supper, maybe it would take care of the situation. No, we were just torturing out child because we didn’t understand the dynamics of a metabolism out of whack.

See, the first thing that happens as insulin production slows down is the sugars we consume – and I’m talking about sugar from everything, before the health nazis begin to rant about white death, etc. The body makes sugar out of almost everything we eat and every cell in the body needs it to function. Honey, fruit, brown, white, potatoes, whole grain cereal…you name it, even meat, eventually turns into a combination of sugars and other compounds. Do I sound like I’ve had this discussion before? Since I was a teenager, my friend, and the rise of “use honey, it’s better for you because it’s not sugar” first hit the popular lexicon of catch phrases. Honey is sugar, brown sugar is sugar, dextrose is sugar, fructose is sugar. … sugar sugar sugar…. they metabolize at different rates, of course but that is a different discussion – something to hold in store for a later date…can you stand the suspense?

Anyway, when the glucose in the blood can’t get into the cells, it continues to circulate in the blood stream, thickening it – no, seriously, it really does, I know this because I’ve seen it for myself but that is later in the story – and making it harder to push through the system So, the brain is given the signal to take on more liquid to dilute the blood. This is the thirst. The kidneys are told to get the sugars out of the system by filtering it out and that is the urgent need to pee all the time.

That is where my sugar plum was when we were camping that summer – her blood getting thicker and the cells beginning to starve, slowly.

So ends the first chapter of the story. Here’s a link to a short list of symptoms of Type 1 from the JDRF international website. Symptoms There will be more about JDRF later but for now, read and learn and if that little voice in the back of your head is saying, gee, maybe that’s what is happening to my kid, don’t worry about being wrong, go to the doctor as soon as possible and be sure

Welcome to my world

Our daughter was first diagnosed in the fall of 2001. It was the beginning of a long journey where we learned she was the one who has to take the insulin but the whole family has to deal with the effects of the disease. It’s been interesting and educational and maybe there’s some information here that may be of help to someone out there just starting out on the journey. Maybe it will help you if you know someone whose family is starting up the mountain. Or maybe this is the way you will get to know someone dealing with Type 1.

Oh, and if you learn only one thing, let it be that you don’t get Type 1 Diabetes from eating too much candy. 

 

A family with Diabetes – we'd rather have a puppy