Tuesday, 14 August 2012

this boy

this boy is growing up
this boy has had a haircut
this boy adores Scooby-Doo
this boy is bright and full of energy
this boy loves stories
this boy loves to sword fight
this boy loves jacket potatoes ("jacket a-patoes")
this boy is artistic
this boy can mimic voices uncannily well
this boy loves "Almost Naked Animals"
this boy loves

And the week before last this boy was weighed at the hospital and his blood pressure taken, his HbA1c taken and his height measured.  
He has lost weight.
The hospital were telling me they are now officially "concerned".  I go home and Google "unexplained weight loss in children".  It's not pretty (no shit, Sherlock, right?) but he HAS NO SYMPTOMS.
He is fine. 
We are under the care of two separate hospitals for Frank's diabetes.  
One here in town for his general D-care and one in Cambridge for his pump.
They are both fantastic.  
We cannot fault them.
However, after a few days of calling one of them and asking for the latest blood test results so we could see if coeliac disease or maybe thyroid issues were at play here (and need I add that we were rather heavy hearted all that time), we were told that due to human error his weight was plotted wrongly on one of our previous visits and, whilst he hasn't gained much weight, has HAS NOT LOST ANY.
Good grief.  
That was four long days.
And on we go, taking it one day, maybe one week at a time.
This experience really highlighted for me the progress I have made in accepting diabetes, that uninvited guest who just won't bugger off, in our lives.
It is not the first thing out of my mouth when I meet someone.
I don't feel the need to blurt it out and I feel so much healthier for it.  
Frank is now of an age where he would possibly begin to feel "defined" by his diabetes as I blurt it out to new people anyway, when before now he was perhaps too young to take in what I was saying.
The one thing I am now very hot on though is not letting people get far in the "poor little boy, he can't have sweets" or "but he looks so healthy" or, as from my own bloody mother on the phone this evening (and on speakerphone no less, with Frank in earshot) "I suppose he'll go to school one day, but it's difficult with his (pauses to find the right word and then whispers it as though it is an profanity) "illness". 
Speakerphone was switched of smartly and mother's ridiculous inability to "get it" silenced for her grandson.
And on we go!


  1. Oh my goodness, what a cute haircut on such a cute guy!
    Breathed a sigh of relief when I read the weight news - too bad the initial report was incorrect.

  2. stupid humans! yeah, we all make mistakes, but good gravy...what an unneeded stress about his weight! and the comments, especially from family, just make me want to punch someone!!

    what a handsome lad you have there! his smile and his eyes just light up the world!

  3. Oh, thank goodness.

    And doesn't he look handsome with his new haircut!

    Hugs to you,

  4. Great hair cut Frank!! The grief about his weight was something you really didn't need so glad to hear that the problem wasn't a problem after all! Our turn for clinic tomorrow - why does it always get me in a bit of a tizzy?!

  5. Fab news - such bureaucracy can have you in tatters and for no reason, grrr! I ache at the tales of your mother: what a shame she can't go to school and pick up some contemporary thinking as well as some tact. You are a rock. x x x

  6. Good news! And I am going mad here in Ipswich with three children and no husband so if you and Frank fancy a jaunt to cheer us up please pop on over!

  7. Oh, what a stressful four days that must have been for you x
    I loved the first part of the post - it's so great to record things like the way he pronounces baked potatoes. Lovely to look back on - we do it sometimes and it's great to have it all at the click of a finger.
    I'm sorry your Mum hasn't "got it" yet. My family haven't all managed to understand Cameron's diagnosis and what it means but I try to take a deep breath and remember they don't mean any malice.

  8. what a grown-up haircut!

    sorry you had to cope with such stress and glad to hear there was nothing to it. i smiled when i read of you not mentioning diabetes first thing, it's something we all go through i think. best of luck with educating granny. ;)