One Brave Boy; Two Incredible Parents

"Is he going to the bathroom again?"

"Yeah, he suddenly needs to go all the time, it seems like. And he can't seem to get enough to drink."

"Hmmm. I wonder if you should get him tested just to rule out Type 1 Diabetes."

That conversation between Shulamith and me occurred Thursday, and by Friday morning, she and Swen were on their way to Primary Children's Hospital, where Swen would be officially diagnosed.

Well that escalated quickly!

She called Matt at work and told him to meet them at the hospital, and the three of them began a 2-day crash course in the logistics of managing this disease. They learned how to do a finger prick to check Swen's glucose level and to calculate the amount of insulin needed to correct the situation if his sugar is too high. They learned how to dose out how much insulin he needs depending on his predicted carb intake with every meal or snack. And they learned how to give him his insulin shot. They learned about highs and lows, keytones, the "honeymoon period," and insulin storage requirements.

Overwhelm much?

Then there is the emotional impact. They were told that all three of them would experience a grieving period, probably at different times and in different ways, but they would all experience it. Makes sense. In less than 24 hours, they went from normalcy to dealing with a manageable (but still scary) disease that cannot be cured. I think this was the hardest part for Swen, hearing that he would have this his whole life. That's kind of a long time when you're nine. 

But he was so brave. 

And so smart.

He takes his shots like a boss, and after only three days, he can already tell you which foods have carbs and which are carb-zero (meaning he can eat them at any time, as much as he wants, without insulin). He's learning how to decide whether it's worth getting a shot in order to have a cookie or some popcorn, or if he'd rather just eat some cheese or peanuts. In no time he'll be doing his own finger checks and giving himself his own shots. I have no doubt.

And Mom? She's drowning in all the emotions that moms experience when their children face difficult challenges: Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't it happen to me instead; I'd gladly take on this burden so Swen wouldn't have to. How will this impact his life, his future? What if I mess up and accidentally do something to harm him? How will Matt and I navigate our country's ridiculous healthcare system, and will we go bankrupt just keeping Swen alive? All the things.

So what's the takeaway here? There are several. The outpouring of support for Swen and his family from both friends and strangers alike has been amazing. Our gratitude for science, along with medicine that allows kids like Swen to have full, healthy lives, is profound. This is a hard thing. But we've been promised that we can do hard things and that we will have divine support and guidance along the way. Evidence of this has been undeniable.

One brave boy; two incredible parents. They've totally got this.