Thirteen Years and Counting

We had just moved from Pennsylvania to New Mexico right after my second daughter had turned five. It was June and it was a hot, dry, new environment. By July we noticed Katie was not quite acting her bouncy, flamboyant self, but kind of had written it off to the big 2000 mile move. By August she was getting downright cranky. I found a local doctor to start taking her to. He told us that the climate was new to her, she probably caught a bug, she was probably a little dehydrated etc. In the following months she was getting sicker and sicker. She was drinking water all the time and having accidents, which was not like her at all. We took her to four different doctors and not once did anyone check her blood sugar. And I knew nothing of diabetes back then. Finally on Thanksgiving Day (after five months of appointments!) Kate would not wake up. My exhusband packed her up in the mini van to take her to the ER while I packed up the car with our other three young children and left Thanksgiving dinner uncooked on the counter. Then at the hospital, where my unconscious baby girl was curled up on a bed with a blood sugar of over 1000!! , we learned she had Type 1 Diabetes. It felt like a nightmare. We spent seven days in that hospital room getting her well enough to go home and learning how to care for her. And while diabetes is not a death sentence, it changes the rules of life's game with no warning and you just want to shout "unfair". Now, 13 years later, it's been a long, twisting road. The teenage years were hell for us. But as an adult, off at college, Katie is finally coming in to her own and realizing that her diabetes does not define who she is. My baby girl is my hero for all she has faced and overcome. Some day, I hope to be able to change the title of this from "and Counting" to "and Cured".

Victoria Nagle
Lilly, OR