Panic at the Park

Madeline plays soccer, and her team practices on Tuesday afternoons at a nearby park. Yesterday, I had made plans to meet a friend and her kids at the park. Her kids would play with Jack and Max, while Madeline ran, dribbled and kicked her ball up and down the field. We arrived at the park, and all three kids jumped out of the car, raring to go. Madeline set off, sprinting across the park to meet her teammates, while the boys greeted our friends. I grabbed our gear. I had my purse and the kids' water bottles, but couldn't find Jack's diabetes kit. Aaarrrggghhhh! I had been running late, and in my haste to leave, I had forgotten to take the D kit. I had left it at home! Panic set in. My mind began to race. "What if Jack goes low? What if he's so low he needs Glucagon? What if Jack goes high? I have no way to test his blood. We need to leave. We need to go home NOW!" I keep a kit in the car, but that kit only contains water, snacks, juice and other forms of quick-acting sugar. I do not keep testing supplies in the car. We always have his supplies with us...unless we've left them at home! "Madeline!" I yelled across the field. "I need to run home! I'll be right back!" I asked my friend to keep an eye on her, and then I ordered the boys to get back into the car. Of course, they didn't want to leave. My friend offered to watch them, while I ran home. With my stress level mounting, I couldn't leave Jack. The park is located only 10 minutes from our house, but I figured that if I left him, then he'd be at least 20 minutes without his supplies. If I took him with me, then he'd only be 10 minutes without his supplies. That extra 10 minutes doesn't seem like a lot, does it? But, so much can happen in a mere 10 minutes. Jack's blood sugar can change that rapidly. And if something had happened to him, while I wasn't around, I wouldn't be able to handle it. Now, my friend happens to be a pediatrician. So if there was anyone under whose supervision I'd feel comfortable leaving Jack without his diabetes supplies, it would be that friend. She's wonderful and I trust her implicitly. However, even the very best pediatrician in the world would not be able to accurately determine his blood sugar level without a meter. Max wanted to stay and play with his pal, my friend's son. So I agreed to let him stay while I took Jack alone, and then came Jack's protest. "That's not fair! Why does he get to stay and I don't?" Jack began to melt down. "I'm not going home, if he's not going home!" "Jack, please just get in the car and buckle up." "No! I told you. I'm not going, if Max isn't going! It's not fair!" "Jackie, please, just get in the car! Life is not fair. We're wasting time. Let's just get home and get back as quickly as possible," I pleaded. Jack's upset and my anxiety clashed. "I am not going with you!" "You are going with me. Jackie, please, just get in the car." Melt downs of this magnitude always affect Jack's blood sugar level and never end quickly. I had to seize control. I did the only thing I could. I apologized to my friend and her son, and I insisted Max drive home with Jack and me. Jack was then happy. He immediately climbed into the car, buckled into his seat and thanked Max. I felt relieved. Melt down aborted! But Max, of course, was then angry. He grumbled all the way home. He is the most mild mannered of our bunch. He eventually cut the complaints, and then I had two happy boys again. So, we dashed home, I grabbed the kit, and we dashed back. In seemingly no time, Jack and Max were sliding down slides and swinging on swings with their friends. My stress level had returned to normal, and we were in good shape. What a big to do over a little bag and a little car ride! But, all's well that ends well, right?