Hello, Nurse!

Guess where I am? C'mon...just guess. There's a little hint in the blog title.
The hospital, you say? Ding, ding, ding! Circle gets the square.

I'm sipping hospital grade coffee from my makeshift sofa bed and watching Jack sleep in a caged crib right this very minute. Time? 11:12pm. Some folks who witnessed the diasater that was our Christmas holiday might recall Jack's blood sugar reaching an all-time low of 8. Yes, 8. Normal blood sugar levels fall between 90 and the mid-100s. A high fever and a nasty virus caused his levels so drop that viciously, and after a hypoglycemic seizure and three days at Children's hospital, he was right as rain. However, his blood work never gave us any indication WHY this happened so rapidly.

Flash-forward to yesterday. Jack spikes a fever of 101.5, but other than being a little more spacey than usual, he seemed fine. Ate good meals and played in his typical Jack manner. This morning he was sluggish and refused to eat breakfast. Around 11am he fell asleep on the couch...not typical but he was under the weather. He slept. He became catatonic. Two hours went by, and I started wiggling his legs and quietly called his name, "Jaaack. Time to wake up!". Nothing but a slight leg movement. I called Bob who agreed with me that the poor guy is probably just exhausted from being sick. I let him sleep another 30 minutes. I started calling his name a little louder and wiggling him more vigorously. Nothing.

I'm in full freak out mode at this point. I grab our handy dandy blood sugar tester thingy, which from my description you can tell I obviously never used before, and unfolded the directions. Reading, reading...uh-huh, I think I got it. Crap,I can't get the lance to stay in! Dammit! Okay, okay. Got it. Time to prick his finger. Done. Why isn't it working? Breathe. Not enough blood. Prick a second time. Jack moans. It's taking a reading...31. Fuck. This can't be happening. I call Jack's pediatrician who advises us to hastily head to the ER. Bob is working out a way to escape his shift, and Amanda escorts our sad asses to the ER where we sit for five hours before moving upstairs to a room. Basically, the ER docs think, "Hmmm...that's strange this happened again. Let's keep him here and watch him a while to see what happens next." Apparently, the endocrinologists want to wait until his blood sugar falls below 70 to draw blood and start testing. If it falls below 70. In the ER, after eating some chicken and sweet potato fries, he got back up to 135. Two hours ago, it fell down to 83.

Part of me wants it to fall a wee bit lower to get these tests started. Am I going to panic attack every time Jack gets a fever now, worrying about his blood sugar levels and praying he doesn't seize? Why does his metabolism go haywire every time he gets a virus? According to the doctors, this is a severe and abrupt physical reaction to a minor malady. There was mention of bringing in the neurology team as well because there's speculation that this goes in hand with his autism. Great. But we won't get answers unless his blood sugar falls below 70. Another problem with no easy solution...uncertainty ah-gain. Do you see the common thread in this daily digest yet?

Well, the nurse will be here in a few minutes for another finger prick. I'm going to gulp down the rest of this crap coffee, which doesn't improve as it cools, and wait for the next reading. Lord, have mercy.