Yesterday was our first endocrinologist appointment and I didn't quite know what to expect. I had heard things about this "A1C" and that a good level is to be right around 6 or 7. Since your levels have varied from mid 400s to low 60s, I was expecting nothing less than about a 9. Other than that, I didn't quite know what the doctor was going to tell us.
Daddy came home from work early to go with us, so we got there a little bit late. As soon as we got there, we started filling out paperwork and you were weighed, measured and finger-pricked. We learned you had put on about 4 lbs since being admitted to the hospital (see picture) only 6 weeks ago! Dr. Donaldson told us your A1C came back at 8.8, average for your age being 8.5. He felt like this was pretty good since it was also factoring in the time before your diagnosis. Such a weird thing, really. How can they get the average over the last 3 months in one drop of blood? Bizarre. And amazing really--how the body stores this information!
We reviewed questions and diet and then Dr. Donaldson surprised me by asking us to think about going to a pump! Really? I don't know much about them, but I'm just envisioning you yanking it out of the site or not wanting to wear it around your diaper. It does sound appealing, however, to not have to give you 5 shots a day! And I can control your blood glucose better by giving you tiny increments of insulin. So right now I'm mixed. I think Dad and I will attend the class and then decide from there. I do like the idea of having most of it paid for this year since we've reached our deductible/out-of-pocket with our insurance. Having just received the hospital bill yesterday (yikes!) this would be my strongest draw to the pump right now.
I asked Dr. Donaldson if getting you on a pump is even possible since you are in your honeymoon right now. He entered "doctor zone" talking about beta cells and the pancreas and concluded with "it looks like he will be completely out of his honeymoon by the end of the year". Got it. What I didn't get was the sinking sense of sadness that started to settle into my stomach and travel through to tighten my throat and tingle my nose. What was this? I thought I was through with all my sadness! Was I holding on to hope that your pancreas would halfway continue to work until it jump-started into full-functioning capabilities? Maybe it was hearing the doctor say (in his doctor way) that part of my baby's body was dying for good. And that I am completely helpless (as are all the best medical minds in the industry) in doing a dang thing about it! By the end of the year, you will be 100% insulin-dependent. I guess the ugly reality still rears up and smacks me in the face every so often. I wonder how long that will last. . . .
Overall, though, little T, we (YOU!) are doing pretty darn good. We are getting by and learning. I feel like we are under great medical care and I trust the doctors and educators. I still have hope every day that there will be a cure in your lifetime. Until then, we battle.
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