Jackie, Zale and Baden Ross - South Bunbury

Written June 2008

A year ago, life was normal. My son was four years old and a happy, healthy looking, child. He was super active, always on the go. He had a wonderful sense of fun and made friends easily. He was slim, but he had just experienced a growth spurt. Should I have noticed then?

Boy, could he eat?! He had always been a grazer and had quite a sweet tooth, but now that he'd started school, he was always hungry. There was no filling him. A trip to the movies with a girlfriend and her kids turned into an eating fest, where my son ate his snacks and then promptly devoured everyone else's too. Again, "that's normal. Kids are always hungry". Was that the trigger to look out for?

The daily bike trip to school was torturous. It was a trip of approximately 2.5 kilometres. We'd take it slowly, but the whining would soon start; "Mum, my legs ache … I'm tired … my stomach hurts", all the normal complaints of a four year old, so we'd persevere. On more than one occasion, I tied a surfboard leg rope around the handle bars of his bike and towed him. "Come on. You'll be fine. Nearly there". "Are we there yet?" took on a whole new meaning, and it was me thinking it! More often than not, I'd return with the car in the afternoon, just to avoid the agony of listening to a complaining child. Surely I should have seen the sub-text to that.

So, normal life went on. Then one unforgettable night, my baby consumed nearly four litres of water, made numerous trips to the toilet and wet all his bedding several times. I knew this was not normal. The following five days and night were spent in hospital. These were the loneliest of my life. How could anyone else possibly relate to how I was feeling? I could not sleep or eat as I struggled to reconcile with the magnitude of what I was facing.

nola with the two boys Now daily life consists of two insulin injections and multiple finger pricks. Meals and snacks happen at exactly the same time every day. We go for low GI foods for slower energy release, with evenly spaced intake of carbohydrate. Foods are low fat, low sugar and high fibre. Some foods can be eaten daily, others only occasionally, the rest sometimes. This is normal life when you live with a Type 1 diabetic.

The awareness of the implications of this disease is never far from my mind. I hold my breath every night when I check his blood sugar level after he has gone to sleep - hoping that it will be high enough for him to get through the night without slipping into a coma, but not so high that it will hasten the arrival of associated health problems, like blindness and kidney and heart disease.

I had missed all signs of this, excusing them as normal characteristics of a four year old, until they slapped me in the face. Surely I should have been a better Mum? Why did this happen? What was the trigger? Was it something I did while I was pregnant? Did my genes cause this? Did I effect his environment in some way and bring this on?

Daily life with my darling boy and his equally precious brother is now dictated by guidelines and rules which must be adhered to diligently. This illness will accompany us everywhere. Our life is no less special that anyone else's. My boys' cuddles and kisses are just as warm. Our normal is just a bit different.

Jackie

http://www.diabeteswa.com.au/