Like Father, Like Son
Graham Daugherty • November 30, 2019
Jack and his mom, Adrienne, both took the opportunity to share their perspectives on Jack’s type 1 diagnosis with us.
ADRIENNE
Diabetes has been in my life in one way or another since I was a young girl. When I was 13 years old, my best friend was hospitalized for several weeks. It turned out to be type 1 diabetes. I worked as a Certified Nursing Assistant for a few years while in college. Most patients had type 2, but I did care for a woman with type 1. My husband, Grant, was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes in 2006, when he was 26 years old. We had just moved to a new state and he was initially misdiagnosed as type 2, so that was a turbulent time for us. Despite my previous experience with the disease, my knowledge was still fairly limited. He managed it and I was only responsible for watching for low blood sugar.
I didn’t worry about our children developing type 1. I incorrectly assumed that since it was not in our family history, my husband was a “fluke” and our kids were not at risk. But Grant was always concerned, especially regarding our oldest son, Jack, who was born in 2008. He would periodically check both boys’ blood sugars, just to be on the safe side.
The fall of 2015 was like any other. We enjoyed pumpkin patches, dressing up for Halloween and playing in the leaves. One afternoon, I was out painting ceramics with Jack and his little brother. Jack had to go to the bathroom urgently several times, which was unusual for him. He had been drinking a lot lately, though, and that was typical for him.
A few nights later, Jack came into our bedroom having to pee urgently again. I told Grant how he did that over the weekend. We put Jack on the scale, and he had lost four pounds. Quite a bit for a healthy seven-year-old. We decided we would check his fasting blood sugar when he woke up. The next morning, we explained to Jack how we needed to check his blood sugar like daddy does. He was afraid but agreed to do it. I was standing in the doorway while Grant inserted the blood into the test strip. As the meter counted down, “3, 2, 1”, I recall thinking “It’ll be fine. It’ll be 90. No big deal.” The meter said 364. Grant and I both immediately teared up, trying to hide from Jack our devastation of knowing what was to come.
November 30th will be the four-year anniversary of Jack’s diagnosis. He has spent over 1/3 of his life poking his fingers, injecting himself with needles, counting carbs, and dealing with high and low blood sugar. Every day we hope for a cure.
JACK
I was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes on November 30th, 2015. I was only seven years old. I remember the days before I was diagnosed. I had to use the bathroom a lot. I also woke up a lot at night covered in sweat. One morning, my dad told me we were going to check my blood sugar, like he does. I felt really scared and I cried. But I got through it!
I remember after checking my blood sugar, my parents started to cry. They told me I wouldn’t go to school that day. I went to the doctor’s office and then the emergency room. The next day I went to the Barbara Davis Center. I learned all about how my pancreas doesn’t make insulin anymore and how I would need to check my blood sugar a lot and inject insulin. I was really scared. But the doctors at the Barbara Davis Center were really nice. They made me feel better. Most of them have diabetes like me, so they knew what I was going through! They also gave me little prizes and I got to play video games there!
My dad also has type 1 diabetes. He owns an insulation company, and before I was diagnosed, I used to say he made “insulin”, instead of “insulation!”
