Remember, it's just an alternate route

Our wee Babbo got diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes on Monday afternoon. It only being Wednesday night, it's all been a blur.

He is fine. We caught it early, thankfully. The only clue we had was about two weeks of incessant drinking and peeing.

We are blessed to live in Bishop. The social and institutional support have been stunning. He was at his nurse practitioner's for an appointment at 11, in the hospital lab by noon, and in the hospital by 4. His new pediatrician and hospital staff spent two days trying to stabilize him and to teach Matt and me how to check the glucose levels and to administer the insulin. We will be referred to LA Children's Hospital for specialized treatment.

Wyatt's blood sugar levels have been very very high. He was admitted with a high 800s and we can't seem to get it below 200. 80 is normal for an adult and our target is between 100-200. This is normal in the early days. At some point, we'll probably enter what's called the Honeymoon Period, where the pancreas seemingly returns to producing normal levels of insulin on its own. It can last from a few weeks to a few years. The name sounds cruelly ironic if you ask me.

Wyatt hates all the poking, but is taking some ownership of the procedures. He drew his own blood at lunchtime and didn't cry when he got his subsequent shot. He's not even 3. He faces at least some of the 5 daily blood draws and 5 injections with a mixture of curiosity and bravery. When he's particularly brave, he reckons he's a big and bad enough dude to warrant a ride on his grandpa's quad motorbike.

It's hard because his body is undergoing changes and his food staples (cheerios, pretzels, goldfish, macaroni and cheese, juice, milk, kefir, etc.) are all now severely rationed while we heavily push the meat and cheese and eggs. Luckily, he never had much of a sweet tooth.

I have mostly stopped crying for the time being. I'm sure it will start up again. Matt amazing. He's up at 3 every morning to check that the boy's sugars don't bottom out. Matt has taught me to be pragmatic and to hit the ground running - so to speak. I'm still on two crutches. Our friends and family have come out to show their love and support for the boy. Strangers have come to bolster us. Matt points out that this has to happen to somebody in the scheme of things, and we both reckon that we as a family will be OKAY.