D~Day

Sweets had a pediatric appointment at 10 a.m. that morning.  She looked so sick laying in my bed.  She looked like a child from a concentration camp waiting there to die.  She was crying and breathing so heavy and complaining her sides and ribs hurt.   By 9:00 she was begging for medical care.  She knew she wasn't going to make it until the appointment so I loaded Baby up in the car and carefully carried Sweets with her purple blanket out.  We did a drive by the baby sitter and sped to the E.R.  I had to carry her in as she couldn't walk.  Later, when I played this scene over and over in my head as I tried to sleep, all I could think of was my child was dying in my arms as I ran.  I set her on the chair and she immediately laid down and was still crying.  Thankfully, there was no one else there and they passed the paperwork for a later time so we could get right in.
Pure adrenaline kept me calm.  I knew I had to be strong for Sweets so she wouldn't freak out and cry out of fear.  Honestly, by the time they had her on a bed and changed into a gown and her finger pricked, a Dr. came in with a diagnosis.  We had only been in the E.R. probably 10 minutes and I was already viewing things from a dream state. Like I was watching someone else.  I was very confused when, in what seemed like slow motion, he said the words.  "Your daughter is diabetic. Her Blood Sugar level is in the 600's.  She is in a state of Ketoacidosis.  We are starting her IV fluids and later on in the day insulin.  We need to take some blood from her pulse vein in her wrist".
 My daughter isn't overweight, she has a well rounded diet, she is a bundle of energy and sass.  How can she possibly be diabetic.  What the ?  Husband knew I was taking her to the E.R. and I was updating him by text, but I thought a phone call would be appropriate to tell him she would be here 4 days and that he needed to get here.  I really didn't want to tell him what was wrong with her over the phone because I knew he would be just as confused as I was.

After all the needles were in and done, Sweets had some ice to chew on, and things got calmer, we turned on the t.v. to wait for her breathing to slow down some more.  The heavy breathing, I later found out, is the bodies way of releasing all the toxins in her blood.  I also found out that because her body wasn't using her sugar for energy, it was in starvation mode and was eating all it's fat and muscle.  Sweets is tiny tiny any way. No wonder she only weighed in at a whopping 47 lbs.  I knew she was losing weight, but I figured it was because she wasn't eating.  Over the week prior to all this I kept harping on her to eat, eat, eat.  It only took 2 days before her body really was wasted.
An hour and a half later, they were ready to transfer her to Peds.  The E.R. nurse told her good by and that her new nurse was named Virgina and that she would take very good care of her.  Sweets asked, being silly, "is she from Virginia"?  Then she waved good by and called out a weak "thanks" as she rolled out.  Even in the scariest time of her life, she had a sense of humor and a grateful heart.
The next 24 hours were full of finger pokes every hour.  They had started her insulin via IV. 12 hours went by and finally, finally, her breathing leveled out.  She was looking like a real child again.  I cannot believe how much IV fluids can "plump" up the face and fingers.  Sweets became more and more like herself and began to talk Virginia's ears off.  We would have to remind her to stop talking and take it easy.  She would get so winded.  It would end up being over a day and a half from the last time she really ate.  She was soooo hungry and asked if she could eat yet constantly.
Her Dad stayed with her that first night.  I cried myself to sleep.