But just a few nights ago, I can honestly say that a fruit snack aided in saving my son's life.
A week ago, we sent up to Primary Children's Medical Center where Henry had his Continuous Glucose Monitor (CGM) put on for the first time. It was a traumatic 5 minutes, as Derek held him tight while he cried and screamed that he didn't want it. I hated being the one to stick that little thing on him as he cried, clinging to his blanket. But I knew it would be good. I knew it would help us. I knew it would be something we were grateful for.
That night, we put Henry to bed as we usually would. His CGM and his blood meter both read in the 100s, his safe zone. Kisses, hugs, "sweet dreams" and off went the lights. About two hours later, the alarms started going off. We checked the CGM transmitter, and sure enough, he was dropping a little low. We decided to watch it and see what happened, as he usually comes back up just fine. We watched as our little man's blood sugar dropped faster than we could believe, from 80 to 61. I grabbed some apple juice, took it to him, and he had a few sips. Usually, that's enough to bring him up and we all go back to bed.
But those alarms kept jarring me awake. Now he was at 42, with two arrows pointing down: he was continuing to drop 3 points a minute.
I went for the juice and and that blessed fruit snack, while Derek pulled Henry out of bed and into our room. We coaxed that poor boy into a few more sips of apple juice, but he just kept pursing his lips, leaning his head against his Daddy's chest, and trying to go back to sleep.
But the alarms kept going off. We were below the chart on his monitor at this point, and I was trying not to panic.
I used my firm, loud voice: "Henry. This is an emergency. You HAVE to eat this fruit snack. Right now, or we have to go to the hospital." He took one piece from me and slowly put it in his mouth. It was agony, watching him chew. "Ok, Brute, one more. You got it." Ever so slowly, those little pieces passed by his lips.
At one point, Henry reached into my hand, grabbed air, and put that in his mouth. I am not kidding you, he started chewing the air. Derek and I laughed and popped a real one into his mouth. Finally, Henry took the last little shape of an orange chewed it and said, "Am I all done now?"
Derek kissed his head, cradled him in his arms, and put him back in bed. The next twenty minutes, I lay in bed with the transmitter in my hand, checking every 90 seconds to see if he was finally coming up. It took a while, but when those arrows switched to up, the numbers progressing towards one hundred, I was finally able to sleep.
I wish I could say this is a rare occurrence, but it isn't. With Type 1 Diabetes, we are on a constant roller coaster of lows and highs, fruit snacks and shots of insulin. I am on constant alert, exhausted as I try to keep up with what Henry has eaten, his stress levels, and when I last checked him or gave him insulin. But I am grateful for the tools we have to help us deal with this disease. This life threatening illness. Not just our doctors, nurses, and hospitals (who are wonderful), or even the tiny little insulin needles or even his new CGM. I am grateful for things like fruit snacks and apple juice. That save my son from his blood sugar dropping so low we couldn't wake him up.
One day, I look forward to the cure for Type 1. I know it's coming and I know we will rejoice with our whole souls on that day. On the day when, once again, I can laugh along with my friends as we jokingly refer to fruit snacks as "life savers."
To Donate towards our JDRF Walk, where we are raising money for a cure for Type 1 Diabetes, please click the link below. Every dollar helps.
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