I have a feeling that we're winding up here for another round of blood sugar struggles. The instant my son tells me anything feels weird, I know.
He was running high last night, woke up high again today.
This time, he's not sick. At least not as far as I can tell yet.
He has stress induced hyperglycemia, which basically means that his blood sugar runs high when his body is tested in anyway by illness. This condition could be something he outgrows, but it's more likely a precursor to full blown type 1 diabetes.
He's not sick this time, and he's trending up.
Which means that on the day of his sister's birthday, I have to tell him he can't have birthday donuts or birthday cake or birthday ice cream, and that he can only have a little bit of the pasta dinner she has requested.
He doesn't completely understand.
He just wants to be four.
But he can't.
He doesn't get that option.
As a mother, one of the most helpless positions to be in is where you know that there might be something very wrong with your child, but you are powerless to do anything about it.
I watch him, and I worry.
This time seems different.
Diabetes, you can suck it.
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