About a month ago we started noticing our 8 year old son, Dawson, had an extreme thirst. As fast as he drank, it went right through him. Day and Night. Every hour on the hour.
About two weeks into this, one morning he woke up and begged for juice. Justin and I looked at each other and said "diabetes."
I called my girlfriend that has a daughter with diabetes, hubby called a friend with type I diabetes and asked for symptoms. Our amazing pediatrician was near my friend so she jumped on the phone and said run into office and have his sugars checked [more on our favorite pediatrician ever, later].
His levels were completely normal. Hmmm…
Must be a weird habit.
I am very real about things and realize we can all go through strange phases and decided it must be a weird mental thing going on for him.
I watched him, made sure relationships were good between him and the other kids… things looked good… it was not adding up.
We asked our friends for a their extra blood sugar monitor because we were, again, convinced he had diabetes. All weekend his levels were normal.
Monday of this week Justin took him in to our pediatrician.
Things were not adding up for her either and admitted him into the hospital for observation and testing.
At this point I was nervous, but pretty sure he had a strange habit and he would just grow out of it. Justin was not so sure.
Once admitted they restricted his water for 4 hours. In that 4 hours he lost 2 lbs, of water…. laying in bed, not moving much. His urine was not concentrating.
Our pediatrician wanted to try a hormone to see if his kidneys would start doing their job.
Worked like a charm.
[can i take a moment and brag on our pediatrician? this, diabetes inspidus, is rare. she has never seen it and it can often be misdiagnosed for a length of time. she nailed it. fast. i am ever so grateful and start to tear up just thinking of her, above and beyond care, she has given our baby [and us]. she is more than a Dr. to us, she is a loving friend (and that goes for her husband and nurse too) - we are blessed.]
What that told us was that the pituitary gland was not doing its job. We needed to find out why. She scheduled an MRI for the morning.
Yesterday morning we went in for an MRI. Daws was amazing. Seriously. He rocked the whole lay-still-and-don't-move-inside-a-giant-metal-super-scary-sounding-tube thing. I was so proud of him.
Then we headed home to wait. Waiting is um… not my favorite.
I laid the kids down for a nap/reading time, sat down in my favorite chair, picked at my face nervously (awesome habit I have - is there a hormone replacement for that?) and held my cell phone as if it was an infant.
About an hour into this sitting and picking episode I see my husband walk onto the porch with my pediatrician and nurse behind him. My heart stopped.
My legs walked me outside and I sat down.
They explained that the MRI revealed an adenoma inside of his pituitary gland.
I could only hear about every third word so my pediatrician grabbed a picture book to explain.
Our son sheepishly walked outside and wanted to know. Our Dr. explained it to him and asked if there were any questions. He just squirmed around, nervous from all the attention [i understand the feeling] but handled it like a trooper.
We talked some more. I retained none of it. We prayed and they left.
Justin and I gathered up the kids and explained as best we could. We all sat in a daze for a while. Prayed, and the kids went outside.
All but Dawson and Lily.
They sat on my lap, which was a killer. I needed to bawl and a have a moment but had to wait and chat like nothing was wrong. We offered pony rides, quad rides, special snacks outside… they were not going to budge. About an hour later I had convinced Dawson to go look up tourist sites of the bay area.
I ran to my room to bawl and call my family.
Later, I walked out to our loving pastors whom had brought dinner [which was good because cooking certainly was not going to happen].
For the next 2 hours the kids were [strangely] filled with joy. They had pandora high school musical station blasting. Lily bounced up to me and asked to dance. I stared at her. How could I dance when my baby has tumor in his brain? But there she was. So in one of the most awkward moments, turned freeing moments, of my life we, "put our hands up… nodded our head like 'yeah'….. and now I'm gonna be ok.. " We danced.
Now we wait.