Heretofore known as "the incident"

M is a responsible young woman. Never is this better demonstrated than when she maintains her own health independently. We determined after a suitable time, that unless she was vomiting, she could stay home under her own care when she felt unwell.

I was working half days during this moment in time. Things were financially strained, so I had pieced together a number of part time teaching and tutoring gigs to get us hovering near the black. When M was home sick, it was my habit to call her a few times throughout the day to make sure that she was drinking liquids, hadn't been kidnapped by ninjas, and was generally not in a diabetic coma.

On the day of what we refer to as "the incident", I made my usual morning call.

No answer.

No need to panic. Her bg levels have always been in the acceptable range. She's probably asleep and didn't hear the phone.

Job #1 complete. Try to call again.

No answer. Hm. I will try again a few times in a row to see if that will wake her up.

No answer. Maybe there's a need to panic after all.

I called Job # 2. I can't make it. I have a personal emergency.

I walk out to my car with my cell phone glued to my ear. I vow that I will not be one of those dangerous drivers who is on it during the entire drive home.

I start the car. Shall I call the neighbors?

I call one set. No answer.

I pull onto the main road. I call the neighbors with a key to the house. No answer.

At a stop light I call my third trustworthy set. No answer.

I am now in the car driving northward to home. Do I call an ambulance? She is probably fine. She has never gone into any kind of diabetic shock, coma, or any serious reaction. Her bg was 141 when I left this morning. It's very unlikley that she suddenly had such a dramatic low that she would pass out.

Calling the EMS  if she is fine might only draw attention to the fact that I am a horrible mother, leaving my poor diabetic child home alone to fend for herself. On the other hand, not calling them might be too much of a gamble. I call home again twice. I force myself to wait five minutes and call again.

I know she's upstairs with her door closed. The phone is downstairs. Would she hear it even if she were awake?

I call again. Knots in my stomach, I begin to formulate a plan.

Glucagon is in her basket on top of the fridge. Cell phone is in hand.

After a 25 minute drive, I am putting my key in the lock of the house. I see the dog's tail wagging through the window. I open the door and leap for the basket where the glucagon is stored, simultaneously shouting M's name. As I start running toward the stairs, I hear her bedroom door open.

"What?"

I freeze at the bottom of the stairs and gaze at my upright daughter. I have the red, plastic container of glucagon in one hand, and my flipped open cell phone in the other. She knows that something is wrong.

I walk up the stairs to her, trembling and trying to control my voice, which is thick with tears.

"I was so worried. I called and called, and you didn't answer the phone."

M grasps what this means to me. Even though she is not yet a mother herself, she is empathetic enough to understand the panic that I felt.

As she hugs me, we both begin to cry. "I am so sorry, Mom. I am so sorry. I didn't hear the phone."

"I know," I say, "I was just so worried. I am just so glad you're okay."

We repeat this exchange a few times as we both begin to calm down. I eventually ask her how she's feeling. In light of the fact that she has been sleeping soundly all morning, I am not surprised to hear her say that she is feeling a lot better than she did when I left.

Was I overreacting?

I tested this story out on a friend of mine whose children are so healthy that she doesn't even bring them to the doctor for check-ups. I wanted to test to see if I was being an overprotective crazy mother. Before I could even ask her about it, she said, "That would have freaked me out." I didn't know whether to feel better or worse for the knowledge.

It's a balance. Obviously I have felt fine about leaving M home as long as she monitors herself responsibly and we have neighbors who work out of the home. Maybe I shouldn't feel good about that. Maybe I am not a careful enough mother. Maybe I don't overreact enough.

It was a fluke that all of my stay-at-home neighbors were out at the same time. But it served as a wake-up call for my back up system.

M is amazingly responsible about her health, and is decidedly able to stay home for a few hours by herself, but we decided that if she stays home in the future, the cordless phone will stay next to her at all times.

Compromise between overreacting and underreacting. The world's longest apron string.