Monday – Love Changes Everything

[ninanevermore]

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Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about how my heart skips a beat whenever my son seems to be drinking a lot of water or eating a lot, both of which he tends to do when he is about to go through a growth spurt. I find myself looking at him closely, making sure he's not losing weight, and going so far as to smell his breath.

His breath always smells normal. I've never smelled the scent I am looking for, that of ketones created when the body starts breaking down fat for energy. I remember my mother's description of how my breath smells when I was 8 years old: fruity and sweet, like I'd been drinking cheap wine. It doesn't sound like an unpleasant odor, but I live in fear of it.

Statistically, my son has only about an 8% chance of being diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. I tell myself that this means he has a 92% chance that he won't be. His chances are pretty elevated compared to the average child in North America, whose probability of this diagnosis is only about 1 in a million. Statistics are funny, though. With no family history of the disease, I was born on the safe side of the equation and lost none the less. With my diagnosis, the odds for my siblings jumped over to the dangerous side of the equation, and not one of them has been diagnosed with the disease.

Once upon a time, I shrugged at the idea that my son might become diabetic. After all, it happened to me and I dealt with it. I figured any offspring of mine could as well, if need be. But that was before he was born. Before I knew him. Before I loved him. Then, my son was nothing more than an abstract idea. I could be logical and pragmatic, and take comfort that the odds were in his favor.

If I don't think about it too much, I can still be logical and pragmatic and take comfort in the 92% odds in his favor. Only when he asks for a second drink of water after he just gulped down a glass do I grow warry. I pick him up, rest my forehead against his own, and ask him to say the magic word.

"Can I pwease have a dwink of water?" he asks.

I smell the words as they come out of his mouth, and they do not smell like cheap wine. I kiss him.

"Of course. Do you want ice cubes in it?"

"Yes, three ice cubes." He holds up three fingers to illustrate his point. He doesn't know he has just undergone a medical test and gotten a clean bill of health.

"Three ice cubes in a glass of water, coming up," I tell him.

I set him back on the ground and let go of him so he stands sturdy on his own two little feet. He's a tough little guy. Whatever life throws at him, I have confidence he will be able deal with it. There are just certain things I hope he never has to.


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Comments

[jenandbronze.livejournal.com]

It is scary, but at least you are closely monitoring the signs... I am at risk for diabetes due to the manifestation of Rubella Syndrome I have. I watch a great deal, since I know the signs as my closest girlfriend is Type I.

[serene-orange.livejournal.com]

we had a boss that we kept telling him he needed to have a check up because he smelled diabetic. He refuses. I worry about him

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

Type II has a much slower onset, and may even be almost asymptomatic for a long time. The funny thing is, the idea of diabetes is a lot worse than the reality. The reality is you adjust, you do what you have to do, and you get get on with your life. But for a lot of people, the mere idea of the being something wrong with them, of having a disease, causes a sort of identity crises. Putting off treatment increases the risk of complications. In light of that, I hope he's just been drinking cheap wine.

[serene-orange.livejournal.com]

hell he might be drinking cheap wine, but not likely.

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

Really. With odds like that working in our lives, we should take up gambling!

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

o_O

There are certain things that only happen to other people. You are obviously one of those other people.

There has to be a plus side to being one.

I'm sending you a dollar. Buy a lottery ticket for me, and get one for yourself while you're at it.

[mugglemomjsw.livejournal.com]

I relate completely.

stands sturdy

[regatomic.livejournal.com]

the best approach,..:)

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

The signs of Type 1 are so dramatic that I would not be able to miss them if they were to happen to him. I try not to be paranoid, but sometimes I fail. *sigh*

[simplecity2htwn.livejournal.com]

It's my sincere hope that your son won't have to deal with diabetes as you have. However, if he ever had to, I would hope that thanks to you, he'd go into it equipped with a good example of how to deal with it properly. Lessons in our health and how our bodies work (and break down) are far more valuable than the examples many of our parents set by just ignoring the obvious until something breaks.

[jessnhalinda.livejournal.com]

On the lighter side, just think about when he's a teenager and you have reason to check his breath for actual cheap wine--you can always tell him you're smelling for diabetes then.

Okay, it's not much of a light side...

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

As the saying goes: If you can't be a good example, at least you can serve as a dire warning for others.

I've met the children of dire warnings. No matter how old they get, they are always a little messed up. :P

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

I wish neither of us could.

Hang in there.

:)

Re: stands sturdy

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

I agree. :)

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

Great idea! Boon's Farm Strawberry Hill smells like Boon's Farm Strawberry Hill and nothing else (I'm gonna plead No Contest to how I know this). When I smell it, I can get him to confess that he's been drinking by threatening to drag him off to the doctor's office. I bet it'll work every time. ~_^

[sidneymintz.livejournal.com]

I'm a breath-smeller too but for two different reasons: I miss his sweet breastmilk breath (smelled like apple juice), and he usually refuses to brush his teeth so now I smell to make sure he isn't too offensive.

Love to you both.

[jenelycam.livejournal.com]

*HUGS* I like the way you test him. I mean, it's sneaky but it doesn't have any cause for alarm for him.

I'm sorry that it has to be a worry for you... *HUGS NINA TIGHT*

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

The baby breath was sweet, wasn't it? Much better than formula breath (and don't get me started on formula diapers - ugh!)

I brush Sweet Pea's teeth and then turn over the brush for him to give them a once over. Otherwise, he just eats the toothpaste without actually rubbing it on his teeth first.

[neanahe.livejournal.com]

My paranoia is my paranoia, and I don't see any reason to make it his as well. I once met a type 1 diabetic mother with 2 sons who were also Type 1, and they all seems okay with it. There are, I suppose, worse things that can happen. *hugs Dawn back*