The hero in this story is my ten year old son, Lancelot.
From here on in, he shall be referred to as Lance.
My Lance is an everyday, Australian kid who has a passion for collecting coins, cards, rocks and books.
He loves words and has a pretty impressive vernacular.
He's a Gleek and an Adam Sandler fan.
He has the softest, most gentle nature. I call him my pink marshmallow.
Everyone who meets him falls in love with him.
He has a very old soul - people often comment that he's "been here before."
However, there's a side to Lance that not many people see.
It's not because we try to hide it - on the contrary. I guess, after living with it since the age of one, he's become accomplished at making it blend into his life.
My only child has type 1 diabetes.
Anyone who knows about this beast of a condition will know that it's NOT an easy ride. It's a diabolical
rollercoaster.Lance has had his fair share of challenges with his condition.
He's endured countless severe hypoglycaemic episodes..
He's lost chunks of time due to seizures -the final symptoms a person with type 1 diabetes experiences before lapsing into unconsciousness.
I've found him unconscious in his sleep on three occasions, and had to perform CPR on one.
In fact, up until July 29, 2008, our life was controlled by Type 1 Diabetes. Anyone who lives with a chronic illness isn't supposed to say that. That they are controlled by their condition.
But we honestly were. Lance was diagnosed as having brittle, difficult to manage type 1 diabetes right from the start.
However, in the beginning of 2008, I decided that enough was enough. Lance's quality of life was just terrible. He couldn't go anywhere without me following him. Even being in a different room in our house was a concern- there have been times where he hasn't responded to my questions or comments and I have found him "asleep" and slowly slipping away.
His endocrinologist promised me that insulin pump therapy would change his life. It was a chance to buy him a quality of life that was fitting for a child of his tender years.
And on July 29, 2008, our life did change for the better. It was better than better. It was as close to "normal" as one could achieve without a fully functioning pancreas.. After four days of pumping, Lance exclaimed, "Mum, I have so much energy! I've never felt like this before!"
Gone were the days of punishing lows in the low 1's, that would then skyrocket to the the 20's after consuming a mere 15g carbohydrate. (this equates to a small popper, or better known to our international friends as "juice boxes.")
My Lance almost seemed "cured"..His blood sugar levels were consistently in normal range.
It was nothing short of a miracle. I wept tears of joy and sheer relief that my son finally had a chance at leaving his fragile life behind him.
However, our smooth transition into insulin pump therapy was short lived.
On the evening of the 14 September, 2008, a mere six weeks after having close to perfect blood sugar levels for the first time since his pancreas died all those years ago, everything came crashing down.
Our lives, quite simply, would never be the same.