Used car Salesman approach to pumping

After school today we will be meeting with a Rep (Stephen) from Medtronic. He is going to come over and give us a little showcase showdown of their version of the pump. We already met with the Animas Rep a couple of weeks ago and we are most definitely impressed with the Ping. I told my husband that Stephen is going to have to really impress me and throw out all the stops to make me change my mind about going with Animas. He is already sort of starting out on the wrong foot in my books honestly. A few weeks back, I called both Reps on the same day and he seemed very put out and very "used car salesman-ish" to me on the phone. We had scheduled an appointment for one day last week right after school because he told me that he couldn't come at a time any later than that. I was disappointed because I had wanted my husband to be able to be there as well and I knew he wouldn't be home from work at that time. Such is life though, so we booked our time for immediately after school. Stephen called me the morning of our appt. and had to cancel because his daughter was ill. Don't get me wrong, I fully understand that whole scenario...sick kid...life is put on hold. So, we rescheduled for today. Before hanging up the phone, he made sure to throw some statistics at me about the percentage of people in my area who use the Medtronic pump...blah blah blah...percentage of this and percentage of that...it even has that new car smell...ummmm ok! I am looking forward to him showing up this afternoon, but I am bracing myself for that fake smile and the classic salesman "lemme show ya all the bells and whistles" demeanor. I do not mesh well with people like that. I will however keep an open mind and see how it plays out. I have set a goal for myself to make a decision by the end of this week regarding which pump we are going to go with. Wish me luck! Here's to hoping that Stephen doesn't show up wearing a cheesy plaid sportcoat and handing out complimentary Bic pens that say "Buy a pump from Steve and get a free weave!" or "Help me break even and buy from Stephen!" or "Don't get mad and leave! Buy from Steve!" lolol...now that would be funny actually.

Educating the kids

I am sitting here trying to begin writing this post and have now written and erased my opening line at least 5 times. I have no idea why, but for some reason I am having a hard time jumping into things this morning. Anyhoo, I wanted to write about this past weekend. On Saturday, Emma and I went about our usual routine of piano lesson in the morning and gymnastics in the afternoon. I was sort of on high alert diabetic Mommy mode as soon as I pulled in the parking lot of gymnastics to be honest...simply because of our experience there last week which I wrote about in another post. I was on the look out for the father who so rudely and ignorantly pulled his daughter away from the general vicinity of Emma and I when I had been checking her blood sugar during snack time last week. I parked the car and we walked inside with no sight of this man. Emma went in to her class and I took my usual spot on the floor and began reading my book. (I'm currently reading "127 Hours" by the way...amazing true story of Aron Ralston getting trapped in a canyon and forced to amputate his own arm after a week of being stuck so he could rescue himself and get out alive). So, there I was lost in Aron's world, near the end of the story, reading about him finally coming to the conclusion/decision to amputate...when in walks the father with his kids and his ex-wife. He gave me a short glance and went about his business of waiting for his kids class to begin. A short while later, Emma came out for her snack time and I tested her just as I always do. She was a tad higher than I would like her to be for that time of day, so I decided to give her the snack and a correction needle as well. I wondered how this would all play out with the ignorant father and his daughter standing nearby. Honestly I could care less if it bothered him again...I was simply doing what needed to be done for my kid. I was doing my job as her pancreas...giving her a little boost and helping get those blood sugars down a bit. So, I pulled out the needle, dialed up a dose, and grabbed her arm to have at it. As soon as the little girl caught sight of what I was doing, she walked over and stood there staring at us. I noticed Emma look up and stare back at the kid. At first she looked annoyed because Emma really isn't fond of people (especially strangers) openly staring at her...who is really? I waited to see if she would say anything to this little girl. Apparantly Emma decided that it wasn't worth it...so instead of opening her mouth, she just gave the little girl one of her award winning cheesy to the max smiles (which I find adorable seeing as how she is missing all of her front teeth). The ignorant father was apparantly too wrapped up in chatting with his ex-wife to notice that his precious daughter was now witness to me giving Emma an actual needle...GASP! Which I found absolutely hilarious for some reason. I had a little giggle as well at Emma because not only was she grinning away like the Cheshire cat, but her eyes said something totally different. Her eyes said "Whatchu lookin at girlie? Got a problem?" This all occured in a split second really...and Emma was off to join her class and eat her snack. I put the needle away and began reading again.  Score one for us in the psuedo-education of the future of the world on diabetes management!

The bravest person I have ever met

I am sitting here breathing a HUGE sigh of relief! Today was the day that Emma and I went to the hospital to try out the infusion sets for the pump. The appointment was at 3:00pm and honestly this afternoon seemed like the longest one of my life. Emma had off of school today, so she was happily playing with her toys and playing various games on the computer. I was sitting on the couch and staring at the clock...watching the stupid minute hand draaaaaaag around in a circle. I might as well have sat there and counted "one mississippi...two mississippi...three mississippi..." at least I would have felt a little more productive. In any case, when it was finally time to leave, we gathered up our stuff and headed out the door. My stomach was starting to tense up with that familiar panic/nervous/oh my gosh what have i gotten myself into feeling. To try and distract myself, I decided to focus on driving and made idle chit chat with Emma. We talked about her latest obsession...Mad Libs. They are a blast! I am however getting over the whole "Mommy, what's an adverb? Mommy, what's a past tense verb?" scenario...I feel like I am back in English class. Anyhoo...back to the drive! I made my way downtown to the hospital and parked the car. We walked inside and met up with the nurse in the "family room." She jumped right in and began showing me how to use all of the different infusion sets on this creepy fake skin looking thing. Once that was finished, we decided to try one out on me. I stood up and she wiped my stomach off with an alcohol swab and got everything ready. I wanted to try to do it myself, but my hands were just shaking like crazy and I was starting to freak out a little bit seeing Emma cringe and partially cover her eyes. So, the nurse took over and did it for me. I was completely surprised because it didn't hurt at all!!! Emma was totally not convinced though. Once the nurse asked her if she wanted to try one on herself, Emma immediately burst into tears and put her head down on the table. The nurse told Emma that she could just try next time if she wanted to...there was no rush at all. So, we got up and made our way out to the car. On our way though, I asked Emma to sit down for a minute and talk with me. We sat down and I saw this look of total disappointment and fear in her eyes. I wanted to help her, but I knew that she needed to decide to make this leap on her own. I told her that I love her more than anything in this world. I asked her if she believed me when I told her that it didn't hurt and she said yes. She was sobbing still and through her tears and hiccuping breaths, she managed to blurt out that she DID believe me, but she was just scared. She was afraid that it would hurt and she didn't think she was brave enough to try. She thought that she would never be able to do it and she would then never be able to get a pump. She thought that she would screw up her chances and she wouldn't get to live a somewhat more "normal" life. My heart ached seeing her this way...seeing her speak about things that should be waaay beyond her years...watching her shoulders shake and her eyes so afraid and angry...so disappointed in herself. I wanted to make it all better...i wanted to fix it and convince her that she IS brave. So, i told her that she really only had two choices in the matter...she could accept the fact that she was scared, realize that the fear wasn't going to go anywhere...it would always be there until she actually did it and knew first-hand what it felt like, walk back to the nurses office and ask her if she could try it now, and just hold onto my hand and work through the fear together, stand up to it, kick it in the bum and do it anyway......OR she could walk out the hospital front doors, get in the car and drive home with me, still wondering, still nervous, still worrying, still stressing over the unknown, and just put it off until the future. She sat there for what felt like an eternity and then looked up at me with her big brown eyes, her jaw set, he shoulders squared...and said, "ok...I'm scared out of my mind, Mommy....but I WANT to do this...let's go.".........so we did. She was great. She was brave. She was, is, and always will be my hero. I have never been more proud of anything or anyone in my entire life.

With shovel in hand, I attempt to make it happen

So, I've decided to take the plunge and write something. I'm not calling it a book...simply because that seems to daunting to me. It seems too much and too overwhelming. I haven't come up with an appropriate term for what I am doing yet. So, I will just stick with calling it "writing something". I am finding it difficult and yet easy all at the same time. It's easy, so to speak, because the words just keep flowing and it is constantly on my mind. Since I have decided to do this, I find myself going about my daily tasks always thinking about what I want to write next. It's like this constant urge or need drawing me to the computer making me want to just hurry and get all the words and feelings out of me before it's too late. On the other hand, I am finding it extremely difficult because I'm having to go back to that dark and frightening place in my head of when Emma was diagnosed. I am trying to get all of the true feelings out so I'm attempting to dig up all of those emotions that I've worked so hard over the years to bury. It feels like I am purposely and intentionally torturing myself. I'm grabbing the hand of that naive and meek version of myself from nearly 3 years ago and dragging her along. I'm forcing her to take hold of the shovel and dig through all of the muck and horror of those first few days. I'm standing there at the edge of the hole she is digging...just yelling at the top of my lungs at her to keep digging...keep moving...keep going!! There she is covered in tears and sweat and filth...and I am forcing her to keep at it. It's hard. I know that I am the only one standing in my way. I know that I, more often than not, am my own worst enemy when it comes to accomplishing something. So, I hope that when all is said and done, I am able to finish the job. I hope that I can find the right words to express what I am feeling. I hope that I can force myself to just keep digging. I hope that what I write will be good enough. Most of all, I hope that it will help someone going through the same things I am going through. I feel selfish though because it is honestly helping me too. It is turning out to be an extended version of my little blog therapy sessions. After each writing session, I feel better. I sit there typing away, getting the words...the story...the memories out of my head, with tears streaming down my face. Once the words stop flowing and I put it away for the moment...I feel better. It's a long process...and one of the most difficult things I have attempted to do so far, but I think it is the right thing to do. Even if I am the only one who ever reads it or likes it, I think it will be worth it.

A Mommy's Promise

So I made a promise to Emma today. I promised her that she would be cured soon. I promised her that her days with diabetes would be over at some point in her lifetime. I promised her that she would not have to live the rest of her life with this stupid disease.
Now I am not one to promise things easily. I do not ever lie to my daughter. I am an honest person by nature. This all came about because I made a slideshow video of her for the Walk for a Cure this year. Naively (is that a word?), I showed it to Emma. There we sat at the computer desk together...watching the pictures of her roll by...reading the captions I posted to them. As I was staring at the computer screen, I heard what I thought to be Emma right beside me giggling at some of the silly pictures of her I put on it. I started giggling with her and turned to look at her face because seeing her giggle and smile always melts my heart. Instead of seeing her gorgeous smile, I saw tears streaming down her beautiful face. I was instantly crushed. Diabetes stole another piece of my heart today. I just sat there holding Emma to me and brushing the hair out of her face...kissing the tears away...trying to restart my heart and breath again. We watched the rest of the video (which I have now posted on here as well), and she told me that she is tired....she just wants a cure already. She's only 7 years old and she's tired of diabetes...of needles, pump talk, insulin, finger pokes...all of it...she's just tired. My sweet girl has been dealing with this disease for nearly 3 years now...and she's tired. I didn't realize the slideshow would affect her like this or else I would never have shown it to her. I never expected it to bring tears...I thought she would giggle at it and get a kick out of seeing all of the funny pictures.
So, here I sit...feeling horrible for showing it to her. Here I sit...wondering how much of my heart is actually left. Wondering if I will be able to keep my promise to her. I suppose that all I can do is hope.

Ignorance at it's finest

For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, I apologize ahead of time for repeating myself about what went on today...but I felt the need to write about it on here too.
Anyway, today started out like any other ordinary Saturday...I took Emma to her piano lesson in the morning, came home for lunch, and went to gymnastics in the afternoon. Her gymnastics class is 2 hours long with a small break in the middle for the kids to eat a snack (which works out awesomely for a diabetic!). So, there I was sitting on the floor in the hallway reading my book when her class came walking out for break. As usual Emma bounced over to me holding her finger out waiting for me to check her blood sugar and hand over the snack. I went about my business...right there on the floor...with a room full of other parents and kids around us...just like I always do every single Saturday afternoon. Since day one, I have never tried to hide Emma's diabetes. I've never made her go into the washroom or the car when we are out in public to give needles or check blood. I made that mental decision pretty much immediately after she was diagnosed. I don't want this to be something that she feels should be hidden or secret. I don't want to promote the feeling of shame or embarassment. She is a normal 7 year old kid. She happens to have diabetes. She needs needles and finger pokes to stay alive. Simple as that. There is no shame in simply wanting to stay alive. There's no shame in wanting to do what needs to be done to stay healthy and alive. I have never flaunted the checks or needles either though. I've never made a grand deal of them or anything of that nature. I have always just treated them as additional steps in the whole "eating food process". That's it...nothing more, nothing less.
So, anyway...as I was checking her at gymnastics, I happened to glance up and notice a father standing nearby with his daughter who appeared to be around Emma's age. He was watching us and had this utter look of disgust on his face. At first, seeing as how I am somewhat of a naive person still, I thought maybe he was just one of those people who gets nervous at the sight of blood. I was wrong. This "Dad" proceeded to grab his daughter by the shoulders and quickly pull her all the way across the room away from us...and then stand there giving me the most awful look...pure disgust and rudeness. Thankfully Emma didn't even notice any of what happened. She was too anxious to just get her container of strawberries and water bottle from me and get back to the rest of her class in the other room eating their snacks too. I sat there on the floor putting our supplies away in my bag...I could feel my face burning...not out of embarassment...it was pure rage boiling inside me. I was clenching my hands so hard into fists that they still hurt well after we left there. I was at a loss...I didn't want to look up or even move at all for that matter. I was so completely dumbfounded by this man's behaviour. I have no idea what he thought...if maybe my daughter had some sort of contagious blood disease that his daughter could catch? I don't really care what he thought I guess. Aside from the obvious reasons for my anger, I was...and still am...actually very sad and upset and hurt that this ignorant man is teaching his daughter to be ignorant as well. Just continuing the cycle of stupidity. It breaks my heart because kids are not born that way....they aren't born hating others...or judging them...or not accepting differences in the world. They are taught those behaviours by their parents.
So, there I sat...waiting for my temper to calm down...waiting for the rational thinking part of my brain to kick in again. I have learned that I can't control anything or anyone else in this world other than my own actions and how I react to things. That is all I have control over. I decided to let myself be upset and sad for his little girl. I decided to let myself be greatful that Emma was oblivious to the whole situation. I decided to not try to waste my time, energy, or breath on someone like him. Instead I put away her diabetes supplies, take out my book again, and held my head high knowing that I accomplished my diabetic Momma duties for this weeks gymnastics class. That was all I could do...and that's all I did.

The Great Wall of Giant Needles

One week from today, Emma and I will be going to the hospital to meet up with the diabetic nurse educator. She is one of the nicest people I have ever met. She will be showing me the infusion sets for the pump and actually trying them out on me. I think it will be a good thing for Emma to see. I am hoping that I won't flinch or say "OW!" or anything that will cause her to believe that it hurts too much. I will definitely have to pull out my award winning acting skills, because honestly I am a big wimp when it comes to needles. The nurse mentioned to me that after we do the infusion sets on me...she would like to see if Emma would let her do one on her as well.
This makes me nervous...in fact it scares me and is already starting to stress me out. This has always been the big brick wall standing in our way...seperating us from the world of pen needles...and pump freedom. It's the one thing that Emma is scared of when it comes to the pump. It was the main reason why she screamed and cried and shouted that she NEVER wanted a pump when we first showed her one almost 2 years ago. Well, now that she is a bit older...and a bit more reasonable...she has made up her own mind that she in fact DOES want the pump...but she is still terrified of the needle. That little infusion set needle might as well be the Great Wall of China for us. Here I stand, with Emma at my side...facing our side of that wall...the bricks all worn and smooth and familiar. I can hear all of the laughter and playing and freedom on the other side of that wall...and Emma and I both want nothing more than to climb on over and join in. That stupid wall is so big and looming and impossible looking to Emma...she feels like there is no way in the world she will ever be able to get over it.
I need to find a way to help her get over it. I need to figure out a way to reason with her and make her realize that the needles aren't that scary and they aren't going to hurt her as badly as she is imagining. I need to think it through and figure this obstacle out so I can help her over the wall and onto the other side where she will have a bit more freedom in her life. Diabetes makes my brain hurt sometimes. I think the majority of people don't realize how much this disease really affects you mentally and emotionally. I can handle the physical management of it day in and day out....but sometimes the mental and emotional part of it just makes me want to crawl back into bed and tuck my head under the covers...and hope that maybe someone else will figure it out.