I was just about to walk out the door this morning when the phone range. Caller ID showed the name of a friend I had planned to call later. It was just before 9 a.m.

"How's The Mr.?" she wanted to know, referring to his recovery effort from Tuesday's surgery to repair an abdominal hernia.

"He's fine," I said. "How's Matt?"

"Oh, you heard?" she said uneasily.

"Yeah, K. told me last night when she dropped No. 1 off after Scouts," I said.

"Blood sugar," she said. "It was 60."

"Oh," I said, feeling relieved that it wasn't the seizure we all thought it was and that this first-grader is prone to. "OH...," I said, my voice getting lower and hinting at sadness and disapointment.

We both know what this low blood sugar might lead to, what it's a sign of. My friend, Matt's mom, is a nurse. She also has type 2 diabetes.

"Maybe it was just a fluke," I said.

Neither of us ever actually said the word 'diabetes.'

"Yeah, maybe. But his heartrate was really irregular," she said. "He ate something last night and felt better. And refused to stay home from school today."

Most of me was thinking that if anything, if there is a diagnosis to be made, it's not diabetes. Maybe hypoglycemia, I thought. Maybe his seizure disorder made his blood sugar go wonky. Because, at least from what I know and read, people who are diagnosed with diabetes generally have pretty high blood sugar at diagnosis--not a 60.

And then I remembered my own low blood sugar prior to being diagnosed with diabetes. My heart sank again.

Matt's pediatrician, who is also my kids' pediatrician, wants him to see a pediatric cardiologist, not a pediatric endocrinologist. This gives me hope that the doctor isn't concerned about the low blood sugar and likely thinks it was a symptom of something else, not part of the problem.

Still, for those of us who know, a child with an out-of-range blood sugar is enough to give a mom a coronary.