On Sunday a young man with Type 1 diabetes had a terrible seizure at his place of work. He was banging his head on a metal floor for close to ten minutes before someone realized and came to help. They did not know what to do and it was almost two hours before he was given glucose. He was in a coma for 22 hours, had 50+ stitches in the back of his head and has now lost approximately 20% of his brain functioning. As expected, his progress is very slow. His fine motor skills are very limited. His short term memory has holes. He has done major damage to his brain. Only time and a lot of therapy will tell how far back he will come. His glycagen stores have been depleted and his body is basically pretty battered and bruised but most importantly, he is alive. He can talk. He will live another day and hopefully will realize just how close he came to losing it all.
I was talking with someone about parts of this situation today. They told me how lucky I was. They said I didn’t know what it was like to go through something like this. Basically they respected the work I did but I had it easy. To say I took exception to these statements was an understatement.
For those who don’t know, this disease tried to kill my son when he was two years old. He fought back and he lived. Since that day I have worked around the clock to keep his control the very best possible. I learnt as much as I could about the disease. I tested. I measured. I logged. I made this my full-time job. My son is not healthy because of luck and to say so is a slap in my face. My son is healthy becasue we work darn hard at it!
We fight high cholesterol already despite his lean frame. We deal with highs that won’t come down. We deal with lows that won’t come back up. He has stepped up to the plate this past summer and I am very proud of him. He doesn’t ignore as many alarms. He counts his carbs and is even learning when to make changes. Times are going to get tougher as his body begins to change and hormones fight us as well but we will continue to work hard. Its the least I can do for my son. Its the least he can do for himself. I have begun to tell him that this is his disease and his body. Its the only one he has so he had better do all he can to keep it in the best of shape.
Being 11 now, his response is simple, “Yep Mom, I’ve got to be careful. This is the only body I have and I already have a crack in it!” Boys!