It means that part of Ainsley’s pancreas is dead or – more likely – dying. Her own immune system is killing it off.  The part it’s killing is the part that enables her pancreas to make insulin, something your body does for you all day long every day. Every time you take a mouthful, that part of your body is activated, keeping your sugars in check, keeping you from falling into serious illness and eventually death.

My first impulse upon learning this was, we must get her into a clinical trial NOW. Perhaps they could save what was left, I reasoned. Perhaps they could. There were no trials for her age group open that I could find, and the more deeply I looked into it, of the ones that were happening, I’m not sure I would have risked enrolling her.

So. We have accepted that the beta cells in Ainsley’s pancreas will die and we will lose them. Our hope now rests on a method that can grow them back. Until then, she will require insulin 24 hours a day for the foreseeable future. We will endeavor to be her pancreas for her, checking her blood sugar through finger sticks as often as possible without turning her into a human pincushion, and responding with the antidote that keeps her alive. We will check before meals and between meals and whenever she exercises or sits out in the hot sun. We will check before we go to bed and sometimes during the night.

We will weigh and measure all her food. We will count carbs religiously. We will carry a glucagon emergency syringe in case she passes out or has a seizure. We will stand a good chance of landing in the hospital anytime she gets a common virus.

That is what Type 1 Diabetes really means.