The Yarrish Family

It was 9:45 a.m. on February 18, 2015 when the school nurse called me at work. Caleb didn’t have a fever. He wasn’t nauseous and his head didn’t hurt. The only way he could describe how he was feeling was that he just felt “off”. Since he wasn’t one to frequent the nurse’s office, she said I had better come and get him. Working in the school system, I knew there was a stomach bug going around and I braced myself for a long 24 hours ahead of me. I wasn’t overly concerned; I knew that it would pass. Nonetheless, I made an appointment with the doctor, just to be on the safe side, for the following morning.

As the day wore on, Caleb never worsened. In fact—he started to feel better. Nothing about how he was feeling gave cause for alarm, but by the evening a strong urgency began resonating within me. I gradually remembered saying to Caleb quite frequently over the past month or so, “You’re having another glass of water? Didn’t you just have one?”. And the pantry, oh my! The pantry. Our grocery bill was through the roof because we couldn’t keep it stocked. I had been attributing the hunger and the thirst to Caleb being an active 13-year-old boy. But as these little puzzle pieces of symptoms started clicking together, I began to worry. Already having a dairy allergy and a gluten restriction in the family, my friend and I joked that no one would ever invite us over for dinner again if Caleb was diagnosed with diabetes. We laughed, but a low, steady hum of concern settled in the pit of my stomach.

The following morning, within the first few minutes of Caleb’s appointment, the world slowed down and tilted sideways. The doctor was talking, but nothing was registering except the words, “Diabetes, Connecticut Children’s Medical Center, type 1…” Caleb was looking at me for my reaction, as I tried to remain calm and allow my face not to crumple. I really, really tried. In fact, I’m pretty sure I had convinced myself that I wasn’t crying until his doctor handed me a box of tissues. Calmly and totally collected, Caleb said, “I’m fine, mom. Don’t worry. I got this.” The days followed, sleepless and fraught with scary new terminology and huge adjustments to our routine; but Caleb said he never felt better. He took every injection and every prick of the finger with grace while we hovered and worried.

During this time of adjustment, we realized we needed an outlet. Something positive we could focus on to help others, but most importantly—something we could do together. When we saw that JDRF was doing a walk on May 31 at the Cape Cod Fairgrounds, we knew we had found just what we were searching for. We signed up immediately, and have since surpassed our goal of raising $2,000. We are so grateful to JDRF. Almost three months into Caleb’s diagnosis, we are stronger and more confident –armed with knowledge, support, and faith that a cure will be found.

-Nicole Yarrish, Caleb’s mother and Captain of Team C-Lab in the Cape Cod Walk to Cure Diabetes.