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As I prepared dinner tonight I decided to let The Princess have a "treat" to drink.
A juicy juice 4 oz box to be exact.
You know, the ones used to treat lows for The Superhero and MANY other Diabetic children. I needed to mix in the probiotics that the pediatrician's office recommended.
And as I was squeezing the juice into the cup for The Princess (she is not allowed to have the box, I don't want THAT mess), I had major flashbacks.
Flashbacks to the week leading up to The Superhero's diagnosis.
Flashbacks of THE DAY he was diagnosed.
You see, that week, he was not interested in drinking from a cup. Not a sippy cup. Nope.
The only way I could get him to drink was through a straw. And not just any straw, it had to be that tiny little straw that is attached to those Juicy Juice 4 oz boxes.
But, he was staying hydrated. Or so we thought. He would suck down those sugary juice boxes one after another. ALL. WEEK. LONG. Who knew that the very thing that we thought was helping him stay hydrated, was surely making him more and more sick.
On that final day, D day, I remember very clearly standing in our kitchen squeezing his juice into a cup. Much like I did for The Princess tonight, to disguise his anti-nausea medicine so he would drink them through the straw.
Only this time I was holding him. I could not squeeze the juice box and measure the medicine one handed, so I attempted to stand The Superhero on the ground.
Only, he could NOT stand.
He started to fall down, and I had to catch him.
He was SO weak, he could not even stand up. He was barely staying awake. And all I needed to do was get him to drink his meds mixed with juice through that tiny little straw. I thought I was going to make him feel better.
It was only a few hours later that we found out how close we were to losing him.
And it is kind of ironic now to think that the very thing that made him feel worse that fateful week could actually save his life today.
