I learned a couple of lessons this past week, so I thought I would share them on here. The first one came up and slapped me in the head last week one day after school. The usual routine is the bell will ring at the end of the day and a stampede of kids will fly out the doors to freedom. Then I stand around with a bunch of other parents while Emma and her friends play on the snow piles and the playground for a while before we all head home. Well, on this particular day...after the playing was finished...Emma and I were walking back to the car with a classmate of Emma's and his Mom. We had made it to the sidewalk and I could see the car off in the distance. Emma looked up at me and said in a weak little voice, "Mommy...I think I'm low." I hate those 5 words. You know the old saying 'If looks could kill'? Well, I think if words could kill I would have been dead long ago due to those 5 little words. Anyway, for some reason when I pick Emma up from school I always leave my bag in the car. So, I had absolutely nothing on me in the way of carbs...I checked my pockets and came up with a half roll of cough drops, a penny, and some pocket lint. I quickly turned behind to the other Mom and shouted that Emma was low and I needed to run ahead to the car. Before I even got a response from her, I sprinted up the street to the car. My heart was pounding with fear, I had that sick feeling of a lead weight in my stomach...weighing me down...making me feel like everything was moving in slow motion...like I was running through water instead of the wide open air. The car seemed to be moving further and further away from me. I was, in all honesty, cursing out loud at myself and my utter stupidity for not bringing something...anything with me in my pockets. Telling myself that if I quickly glanced over my shoulder and saw her lying there on the cold hard ground passed out...it would serve me right...it would be my fault...I'm an idiot. So, on I ran for what felt like an eternity...but was actually probably only 30 seconds...and I finally reached the car. I flung the door open, spilled the contents of my bag on the seat, and grabbed a juicebox. I ripped the straw off, tore the plastic off of it and jammed it in the box. I turned around and flew back to Emma and shoved the straw in her mouth. She slurped away on the juice and we made our way back to the car. I checked her and she was only 2.4 (43 for those in the States). Dammit. To make a long story short...she was fine...I drove home afterwards with hands shaking like I had just drank 18 double shot espressos...but her blood sugar came up...and she was fine. I can't believe I have gone almost 3 years on this diabetes journey...and for some reason, I thought..."I don't need to worry about bringing my bag to get her at the school...I can just leave it in the car...it will only be a couple of minutes...nothing will happen...she will be fine." Lesson learned...I was a moron...and I will never leave anywhere without having some form of carbs on myself at all times.
The other lesson I learned happened over the weekend. It was definitely a weekend for the record books in the crazy busy department. I learned that I can manage her diabetes and keep stable blood sugars while having piano lessons, 2 hour long gymnastics class, 2 birthday parties...1 of which was 3 hours long and included 1 hour of running around playing games in a gym...rock wall climbing...pizza...cake...juice...and a full hour swimming, playing outside in the sun, and a treat of Dairy Queen blizzards for dessert. Whew! Talk about some mad juggling skills when it comes to getting all of that done while adding diabetes into the mix! I once compared handling ketones during illness to trying to juggle a chainsaw and a feather....well i think accomplishing all of those activities with a diabetic is pretty much along the same lines too. I will pat myself on the back and call it a day. My stupidity one day turned into Super Diabetes Mom the next....that is the nature of the beast I suppose.