Our Journey Towards D- Day (Diabetes Day)

This is a picture of Cigi (pronounced CG) at age 12 walking with her father at a park. Notice the "kit" in her right hand (never leave home without it) that carries her monitor, insulin and other diabetic supplies.

Cigi was a very easy going and happy child as she entered into kindergarden. However, about halfway through the school year I noticed her mood seemed to be changing. She'd come home from school grumpy and irritated which was so out of character for her.

I talked to her teacher, a sweet lady that we were so blessed to have for a teacher. She assured me Cigi got along fine with the other kids, was doing okay and was not problem at all.

Thinking maybe Cigi was just overwhelmed at her new school I decided I'd try to tease her out of telling me what was going on by asking her, "who are you and what did you do with my Cigi! You must just be another kid that looks like her! But since you are grumpy and not happy-go-lucky like my little Ci I'd better take you back and get the right kid!" She'd laugh and assure me she was little Cigi and she was fine.

I didn't let her know, but I was worried.

Still trying to figure out why my precious daughter is "PMSing" at age five, I was soon have another concern added to my list. One day Cigi came to me and said, "Mom, I have magical eye powers." At first I thought she was just playing "superhero." So I said, "Oh, really. And just what exactly does these 'magical eyepowers' do?"
My heart just broke in two as tears filled her eyes, and her lips quivered as she spoke, "they just sort of make what I'm looking at start floating back and forth in front of me."

She was scared, and frankly so was I.

(This is a picture of Cigi driving a wagon in Amish Country. Notice the diabetic braclet on her left arm. Another item you never leave home without!)

Several months after the "magical eye powers" ordeal we were at church and something happened that added yet a few more grey hairs in my head. One of Cigi's friends passed by us not more than ten feet away. The little girl saw Cigi and said, "Hi, Cigi!"
Cigi squinted and looked in that direction and replied, "hi" back to her friend. When the little girl walked on by I squat down and said, "Cigi! You don't even know who just said hi to you do you?" She shook her head no.

"You couldn't see her could you?" Again she shook her head no.

Great.

I had already made an appointment to have Cigi's eyes checked, school was out for the summer and Cigi had turned 6 years old. She was drinking water like it was going out of style. The thought that she might have diabetes popped into my head and I shared that with my husband. He said I was just being an overly protective mother, Cigi was fine.

One morning we woke up and I told Cigi she needed to go outside in the fresh air and play because it was a beautiful day. She was grouching around about going out as she tried to find her shoes when I suddenly told her, "Never mind. Just go take a bath instead."

Cigi always takes her baths at the end of the day. Immediately, I wondered to myself why I told her to take a bath first thing that morning, however, by the end of the day I would realize this was a God send. If I had not seen that morning how much weight she lost over night and got her to the doctor- they said she would have more than likely gone into a diabetic coma sometime that day.

The bath water was ran and Cigi was undressed and getting ready to get in when I walked in and saw her with her clothes off. I felt sick to my stomach! She was skin and bones! I had just saw her the day before in her bathing suit at her Aunt Debbies swimming, and the change was so drastic it was frightening! I told her to get dressed we were going to see the doctor. After a few short tests he came back and gave me the worst news of my life, Cigi had diabetes.

(This is a picture I drew of Cigi and our precious little cat, Callie)

My husband was on the night shift at work for a couple weeks so he was at home asleep. I couldn't reach him because we had unplugged the phone and turned on a fan so he could sleep uninterrupted during the day. So I was alone.

It was like I was walking in water up to my neck. I was in shock as I listened to the doctors and nurses. It was like they were speaking another language to me- the termanology was so new. Seems like I just understood every other word.

I remember crying with Cigi as they put they I.V. needle in. Of course it didn't go in correct the first time so we had to go through this a second time when (thank God)it finally found its mark.

The fog I'd been walking in was replaced by "stars" from feeling faint when a nurse put a syringe in my hand and told me to give Cigi a shot. Panic set in as I fought a silent battle inside my head. "Is this woman crazy! There is just no way I can give this shot to my sweet, precious baby! I can't stand to see her hurt-let alone be the one to hurt her!"

Then a calm, soothing voice took over, "It's not an option. It's life or death-you can do it." And I did.

The previous was but an overview of all that happened durning those days. But the jest of my story is there. Cigi is better than I would have ever hoped for in those early D Days. She's doing great in her first year in high school and follows the guidelines and training the doctors and nurses laid out for us.

Although she is very laid back and easy going there is one thing does tend to get her "dander" up, and that is when she hears of someone who dosen't monitor their diabetes. It's common sence: if you want to keep a fire going you have to add more firewood and maintain it. If you have diabetes, you use the medical supplies, insulin and technolgy we are so blessed to have in the 20th century and go on...and live a wonderful life...like my hero, Cigi.