This Summer needs a name.

A name that denotes all manner of evil.  A name that tags it every more as a summer not worth repeating.  A name that leaves no doubt as to the horribleness of it.  I'll open up the comments to suggestions.

We started off good.  I had a new job to look forward to.  We had our first 4-H fairs to attend.  We had a swimming pool, heat, and sunshine.  And then things started going south...and not in the I-get-to-go-south-to-visit-friends-and-family kind of way.

First Grandma M&M discovered the colon cancer she battled 36 years ago was back.  Waiting and waiting and waiting finally gave way to a date for her to have surgery.  May 29th she went in.  Things went well.  Recovery was going to take a long time, but she was going to be fine.

The next morning found me in the doctor's office in pain.  That afternoon I was on the operating table.  It wasn't the appendicitis nor the appendectomy that was the hard part.  It was the 6 weeks of recovery after abdominal surgery that knocked me down.

In the meantime, Grandma didn't recover as quickly nor as well as we thought she would.  She went to a nursing home to recover.  Mama shuttled back & forth between the two of us and in the process hurt her foot.

Then I ended up in the hospital for a longer stay and still don't quite know the cause.  Colitis is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy and something I hope and pray is not recurring in my case.

Just over a week ago #1 Son began complaining about his under arms itching.  When I looked at them I discovered he had brown, scaly patches under his arms.  He's very prone to skin issues so I told him to use the cream our doctor has prescribed many times in the past.  After a few days they turned red & raw. I told him to leave the cream alone and we'd show the dermatologist when he goes on the 17th.

Monday showed we couldn't wait for the 17th.  He was in so much pain he couldn't lower his arms.  Thank the Lord the dermatologist had a cancellation that afternoon.

I willingly admit I didn't want to go.  I hate the drive.  I hate dragging all 4 kids that far to spend 3 minutes in an office with a nurse practitioner (nothing against the NP- she's really good).  But I was beyond unprepared when she suggested his skin issues might be caused by diabetes.

Yesterday we went to the hospital for a fasting blood draw.  The tech took an extra vial of blood in case the doctor decided to have an A1C done later.  I'm glad she did.  His blood sugar was 105- only slightly elevated.  The doctor's office wanted to wait 3-4 weeks and do another draw.  I told them to order the A1C.  They did.

Today we got the call that his A1C was 5.7.   Normal is below 6.  Now doc wants a finger stick every morning for 30 days to see what we're looking at.

To be entirely honest, I am not handling this well.  I can be sick.  I can have surgery.  I can spend my summer recovering from what ever.  But not my son.  He cannot go through this.  He cannot spend time worrying and fretting.  He cannot be scared and uncertain.  These things are not OK with me.

I know he will be fine no matter how the test come out.  I know that the changes that may be necessary will not be the end of us.  I know that we can deal with this.  But right now I'm done.  I'm over it all.  I'm sick to death of worry and fright and sickness.

I am ready for this summer to end.