December 2, 2006 is the day we got the phone call that changed everything.
"You need to go to the hospital," said our pediatrician on a sunny Saturday morning. Benny hadn't been feeling well for weeks. Our funny, curious toddler had become thirsty, cranky and tired. I do remember that morning, though, he was in great spirits and didn't seem sick at all.
"Are you sure?" I remember asking, looking at my 23 months old jumping and running all over our playroom. A fasting blood glucose test on Monday had come back normal (85) but now my doctor was telling me the blood draw they did later in the week showed there was way too much sugar in Benny's body. There probably had been for weeks or even months. We'd soon be told our little boy had type 1 diabetes.
Benny was admitted and I stayed with him that first night; Slade stayed home with our daughter. The next day we decided to switch, and I took Lea to a long-planned outing with our congregation at WBT's Holiday on Ice skating rink. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to leave the hospital, but as soon as we arrived, I knew it was.