The world in which we live is full of so many things...such extreme emotions...such extreme desires, wants, overwhelming needs. The world in which we live is so full of hope...and promise...and compassion. There are some things that occur that completely knock me off my feet. The depth with which a single human being can manage to affect someone...or countless numbers of "someones"....it's just incredible to me. The beauty that lies within all of us can sometimes take my breath away.
I go about my day doing my usual things...taking care of Emma, attempting to be the best pancreas I can be for her, being there for my friends, my husband, my family. Without a doubt there are things that occur that upset me, anger me, or even sometimes make me feel like I could just throw my hands up in the air and admit defeat. Diabetes is hard. It's a never-ending. It takes everything from you. It forces you to become so in tune with each individual situation, each individual moment, each individual reaction that each individual body shows based on all of these individual things. It boggles my mind sometimes how I am able to get out of bed in the morning and function like a normal human being.
Sometimes I feel sorry for myself...sorry for my daughter. Sometimes I feel jealous of others. Sometimes I feel like this life is too hard and too unfair and if I think about it too hard or too much I slip over into that valley of depression and sit there and cry.
Then I read about other things that people in this world are having to deal with in this moment. Things that I believe would send me spiraling out of control into a fit of tears, rage, and panic. Things that happen to good people...people who are honest and caring and kind. People that are giving and grounded and speak from their heart. People who would be there for you in an instant if you needed them. People who would offer up their shoulder in an instant for you to rest your weary head and not think twice about the tears that are falling from your eyes wetting their sleeve. These horrific situations...scary terrifying mind numbing situations that happen to these good people. People whom I have never met...never spoken to...never even heard the sound of their voice. To say my heart aches for them would be an immense understatement. I read about their days and I find myself sitting here with tears in my eyes. Tears over the unfairness...the truly honest unfairness placed upon their shoulders, but also tears over their display of strength...their declaration of love...the immense power of their hope. It makes my heart swell to know that their are human beings like that out there in the world. It makes the tears fall from my eyes to know that these special souls are parents...they are shouldering this burden together...they are showing these children that the only thing that matters in this life is love....the love you have for each other...the love you show to others...compassion and love...it is an amazing thing.
You have made me realize once again that our moments together on this Earth are fleeting and I can choose to make those moments I am blessed with as powerful, meaningful, loving, and kind. As much as I hate this disease and as much as I let it get to me and become physically and emotionally overwhelming, there is no comparison. Whether you know it or not, even in one of your most frightening moments...you are giving...you are sharing...you are making a difference. There are no words available to explain how much I wish and hope and pray for this nightmare of yours to end. You don't know me and I don't know you....but please in this moment know that I am standing right there beside you, holding your hand, lending you my shoulder, and praying for your enormous worries to be gone so that your heart can be light again.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
15 minutes
Phone rings on the first morning back to school after dealing with the tummy bug that just kept on giving. My heart begins to pound as soon as I see the school's number on the caller ID. Emma's teacher tells me in an eerily calm voice that Emma just tested herself at snack time and was 3.3 so they gave her an extra snack. I told her to tell Emma not to bolus for any of it and call me back in 15 minutes. I sit on the couch shaking uncontrollably. My mouth is dry...tongue sticking to the roof of it and feeling ten sizes too big for my mouth. My hands are freezing and sweating all at the same time. Crazed thoughts race through my mind as I watch the hands on the clock hanging above the pantry door in the kitchen...the only non-digital clock in the entire house. I am reminded of all the other times in my life that I have stared at the seconds hand on a similar clock slowly drag it's way around in a circle indicating a mere minute of time has passed. All of the times when I was younger, sitting in class, listening to a boring educational film...or a boring teacher speak of algebraic equations. I sat staring at that clock...willing it to move faster...make time speed by so I could get out of there and move on to something more interesting. All of the times I have stared at that clock in the kitchen waiting for 15 minutes to pass by so I could retest Emma and make sure the juice I gave her was working and that she was no longer low. Stuck in the low BG Mommy/Emma bubble of time. Nothing else matters, nothing else is significant or important...I merely wait...wait for those seconds to pass by in their wretchedly slow fashion. So, there I sit on the couch cell phone in one hand...house phone in the other...afraid to move...frozen in my own bubble...my own personal hell. Emma is not within arms reach...she is off at school...in the care of other adults...my full faith is supposed to be in their hands...in her hands. I sit there frozen..staring at the clock...and the phones in my shaking hands...praying that she will come up.
Phone rings again...15 minutes of hell have passed. Her teacher informs me that she is now 2.9. She has eaten roughly 40 carbs and not bolused for any of them and her BG has dropped even further. Warning sirens are blaring in my head...my eyes instantly begin to burn and water. In a voice that is oddly calm and in control, I ask the teacher if she has given Emma another snack...which she has. Emma gets on the phone and I instruct her how to suspend her pump...stop all insulin from going into her body. Her little voice sounds so far away to me...like she is really in another country halfway around the world...breathless...annoyed...irritated that she is having to take time out of her day to talk to her Mom. The pump is suspended and the teacher gets back on the phone. She too sounds oddly calm still. I wonder if we both are simply trying to calm the other...fool each other into thinking that we have this under control. I wonder if Emma knows how scared I am. I wonder if she is scared herself and just trying to make me feel better by not showing it. The teacher tells me she will check Emma again in another 15 minutes and call me with a number.
I hang up the phone and begin my ritual again. Watching the damn clock...shaking hands, pounding heart, having trouble breathing, praying, fear. I wonder how many times over the years I have endured this ritual...either alone...or with Emma. I wonder how many more times I will have to endure it. I wonder if there will ever come a time where any of those crazed thoughts that run through my mind will actually come true? I wonder if it will ever end. Will the ride ever stop? Will we ever be able to get off this roller coaster of extreme emotions? Will it ever end? If not, how can I ever expect her to be able to handle and endure this ritual all on her own when she is grown? How will I ever sleep again knowing she is out there on her own enduring such horrific feelings in 15 minute increments...all by herself? Will i awaken in the middle of the night...for no other apparent reason...heart racing...and just sit there staring at the clock...reaching for the old familiar phones to call her and make sure she is ok...to make sure she is not sitting there scared...waiting for her BG to come up...alone?
Phone rings again to signify the end of another 15 minutes passing. She is 5.9. Finally. We survived this 15 minute hell bubble once again.
Phone rings again...15 minutes of hell have passed. Her teacher informs me that she is now 2.9. She has eaten roughly 40 carbs and not bolused for any of them and her BG has dropped even further. Warning sirens are blaring in my head...my eyes instantly begin to burn and water. In a voice that is oddly calm and in control, I ask the teacher if she has given Emma another snack...which she has. Emma gets on the phone and I instruct her how to suspend her pump...stop all insulin from going into her body. Her little voice sounds so far away to me...like she is really in another country halfway around the world...breathless...annoyed...irritated that she is having to take time out of her day to talk to her Mom. The pump is suspended and the teacher gets back on the phone. She too sounds oddly calm still. I wonder if we both are simply trying to calm the other...fool each other into thinking that we have this under control. I wonder if Emma knows how scared I am. I wonder if she is scared herself and just trying to make me feel better by not showing it. The teacher tells me she will check Emma again in another 15 minutes and call me with a number.
I hang up the phone and begin my ritual again. Watching the damn clock...shaking hands, pounding heart, having trouble breathing, praying, fear. I wonder how many times over the years I have endured this ritual...either alone...or with Emma. I wonder how many more times I will have to endure it. I wonder if there will ever come a time where any of those crazed thoughts that run through my mind will actually come true? I wonder if it will ever end. Will the ride ever stop? Will we ever be able to get off this roller coaster of extreme emotions? Will it ever end? If not, how can I ever expect her to be able to handle and endure this ritual all on her own when she is grown? How will I ever sleep again knowing she is out there on her own enduring such horrific feelings in 15 minute increments...all by herself? Will i awaken in the middle of the night...for no other apparent reason...heart racing...and just sit there staring at the clock...reaching for the old familiar phones to call her and make sure she is ok...to make sure she is not sitting there scared...waiting for her BG to come up...alone?
Phone rings again to signify the end of another 15 minutes passing. She is 5.9. Finally. We survived this 15 minute hell bubble once again.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Are you the Roadrunner or the Coyote?
So I came to the realization today while I was watching "Loony Tunes" with Emma...there are two kinds of people in this world. Two ways that we can choose to perceive things. Two ways that we can choose to live our lives. Either like The Roadrunner....or Wile E. Coyote. We can keep moving forward, a smile upon our face, feeling the wind in our hair as we fly along our path just like The Roadrunner.....or we can put all of our focus into the negative...seeking to catch that thing in our life that is causing us turmoil. While spending all of our energy on that revenge and that hatred...we miss out on all of the good things along the way.
I would have to say that since diabetes came into our lives I have struggled with that battle. Sure some days I am able to move ahead smiling...enjoying the days...holding my head up and plowing through life with positivity leading me. Most definitely though there are days where I am the Coyote. When I am in the midst of trying to decipher out of control blood sugar numbers, or when I am jealous of those that have no idea what a diabetic life entails, or when I am sitting up in the wee hours of the morning trying to think of ways to keep myself awake so I can make sure that low blood sugar is coming up before I finally let sleep overtake my poor exhausted mind. I let that anger and that jealousy seep into my thoughts and poison everything else around me...the sun shining down upon my face, the flowers blooming, how calm and quiet and peaceful the mornings are after it has snowed all night....everything twinkling and sparkling making the world look like a fairy tale. I let that anger at this disease muddy my thoughts and sort of put blinders on so I wind up missing all of the good things.
Even though the tummy bug Emma had been dealing with is now pretty much gone from the house, she was still complaining of tummy pains every now and again today. Because of diabetes, my mind moves directly to the worst case scenario....I worry about ketones, celiac, whatever...even though I know that it is probably just her stomach trying to get back to normal and it isn't able to quite handle regular foods full out yet...I mean today really is only day 3 of the illness. But for some reason I let those "Coyote" thoughts slip into my mind and I get angry. I let that angry spirit take over and I lose sight of the good things.
I think that is probably a constant battle for most anyone in life. It's impossible to be positive or happy all of the time....just as it would be extremely difficult to be negative and angry all of the time. Somehow though I believe that when diabetes or any other health issue that is with us on a daily basis is thrown into the mix....it seems like those Roadrunner and Coyote days are more extreme. It is definitely the extremes that go along with this disease that are hard. Extreme highs and lows...extreme situations...extreme battles for a healthy kid....extremes are hard. Here's to hoping this week I can get back to feeling like the Roadrunner.
p.s. also was a little disturbed and grossed out to see Porky Pig eating a club sandwich on today's episode....lol....eww
I would have to say that since diabetes came into our lives I have struggled with that battle. Sure some days I am able to move ahead smiling...enjoying the days...holding my head up and plowing through life with positivity leading me. Most definitely though there are days where I am the Coyote. When I am in the midst of trying to decipher out of control blood sugar numbers, or when I am jealous of those that have no idea what a diabetic life entails, or when I am sitting up in the wee hours of the morning trying to think of ways to keep myself awake so I can make sure that low blood sugar is coming up before I finally let sleep overtake my poor exhausted mind. I let that anger and that jealousy seep into my thoughts and poison everything else around me...the sun shining down upon my face, the flowers blooming, how calm and quiet and peaceful the mornings are after it has snowed all night....everything twinkling and sparkling making the world look like a fairy tale. I let that anger at this disease muddy my thoughts and sort of put blinders on so I wind up missing all of the good things.
Even though the tummy bug Emma had been dealing with is now pretty much gone from the house, she was still complaining of tummy pains every now and again today. Because of diabetes, my mind moves directly to the worst case scenario....I worry about ketones, celiac, whatever...even though I know that it is probably just her stomach trying to get back to normal and it isn't able to quite handle regular foods full out yet...I mean today really is only day 3 of the illness. But for some reason I let those "Coyote" thoughts slip into my mind and I get angry. I let that angry spirit take over and I lose sight of the good things.
I think that is probably a constant battle for most anyone in life. It's impossible to be positive or happy all of the time....just as it would be extremely difficult to be negative and angry all of the time. Somehow though I believe that when diabetes or any other health issue that is with us on a daily basis is thrown into the mix....it seems like those Roadrunner and Coyote days are more extreme. It is definitely the extremes that go along with this disease that are hard. Extreme highs and lows...extreme situations...extreme battles for a healthy kid....extremes are hard. Here's to hoping this week I can get back to feeling like the Roadrunner.
p.s. also was a little disturbed and grossed out to see Porky Pig eating a club sandwich on today's episode....lol....eww
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Tummy bug extravaganza
It's kind of crazy how illnesses affect our lives. A simple cold can play such havoc on blood sugars. An ear infection can cause out of control ketones and send us straight to the emergency room trying to get them under control before ketoacidosis occurs. Headaches can have us giving extra corrrections until our fingers are tired from pushing the buttons on the insulin pump. However there is one particular illness that strikes fear into the hearts of every single parent of a diabetic....the tummy bug. When a diabetic child is sick vomiting or with diarrhea, they are unable to keep any food down...let alone any fluids to prevent them from getting dehydrated. The lack of food on top of everything can and will send their blood sugar plummeting to the dangerously low levels...flirting with passing out...seizures...coma...death. The illness in itself causes them to have ketones. The only way to get rid of ketones is to get food into them to be able to give them extra insulin...and force them to drink water to try and help flush them out. I have written about the ketone party before actually and I like to describe it as trying to juggle a chainsaw and a feather....sure it is "possible" for some to do....but it is beyond difficult...you are always walking a fine line between causing even lower blood sugars...or causing them to go into diabetic ketoacidosis. It's madness...I don't know how D-parents do it year after year, illness after illness...and still come out on the other end sane...with a healthy child again.
For the past couple of days Emma has been fighting a tummy bug. We juggled, we fought, I barely slept, we camped out on the living room floor and I kept vigil over her sleeping weak and ill body...wrapped in a cocoon of danger. She was chalky pale, quiet, lethargic, and battling nausea like the prize fighter she is. I am in awe of her strength really. Throughout it all she helped me. She told me how she felt, what was hurting, what she needed. She was on the team with me...fighting this...and we won. We came out on the other side today. She awoke this morning with a smile on her face, pink cheeks, and asking for something to eat. She chattered all day long seeming to make up for all the words missed over the past two days. She ran around the living room chasing the cat and playing with a balloon. She danced, she asked a million questions, she colored, she played....and she ate...and kept everything down. Sure we had one low BG and a couple of highs tonight...but we fixed them...we are falling back into place...rejoining the land of the healthy and getting dressed instead of spending hours on end in our jammies.
After all is said and done, I have learned one thing in particular that I hope will stick in my brain from now on as opposed to slipping away with time. I have realized that I need to not get frustrated with the endless questions...the endless chatter...the boundless energy...the constant go go go. I need to remember that in the depths of the tummy bug times...the wee hours of the morning when I am sitting there beyond exhausted...watching her little sleeping body to make sure she is still breathing...praying for the illness to leave...the vomiting to stop...the ketones to disappear...the frightening lows to end....I need to remember that in a heart beat I would take the healthy days...the happy days...the busy days full of chatter. I would take them over seeing her unwell any day.
Happy to be back to normal and lesson learned.
For the past couple of days Emma has been fighting a tummy bug. We juggled, we fought, I barely slept, we camped out on the living room floor and I kept vigil over her sleeping weak and ill body...wrapped in a cocoon of danger. She was chalky pale, quiet, lethargic, and battling nausea like the prize fighter she is. I am in awe of her strength really. Throughout it all she helped me. She told me how she felt, what was hurting, what she needed. She was on the team with me...fighting this...and we won. We came out on the other side today. She awoke this morning with a smile on her face, pink cheeks, and asking for something to eat. She chattered all day long seeming to make up for all the words missed over the past two days. She ran around the living room chasing the cat and playing with a balloon. She danced, she asked a million questions, she colored, she played....and she ate...and kept everything down. Sure we had one low BG and a couple of highs tonight...but we fixed them...we are falling back into place...rejoining the land of the healthy and getting dressed instead of spending hours on end in our jammies.
After all is said and done, I have learned one thing in particular that I hope will stick in my brain from now on as opposed to slipping away with time. I have realized that I need to not get frustrated with the endless questions...the endless chatter...the boundless energy...the constant go go go. I need to remember that in the depths of the tummy bug times...the wee hours of the morning when I am sitting there beyond exhausted...watching her little sleeping body to make sure she is still breathing...praying for the illness to leave...the vomiting to stop...the ketones to disappear...the frightening lows to end....I need to remember that in a heart beat I would take the healthy days...the happy days...the busy days full of chatter. I would take them over seeing her unwell any day.
Happy to be back to normal and lesson learned.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Pancakes and wondering how you would feel?
Seeing as how today is Mardi Gras....and pancake Tuesday for many people...including Emma's school, I thought I would share our experiences with it. I think I must have been deprived or left in the dark, because I have no memories at all of growing up with a pancake day or any sort of Mardi Gras celebration at school. Anyway, I think I have lucked out because Emma is actually not a big fan of pancakes...so she didn't want to partake in any at school this morning. Bing Bang Boom...no worries about guessing carb counts or having her bolus for it...nothing! She isn't really an extremely picky child when it comes to food...but there are definitely some things that she flat out refuses to eat...pancakes are one of them.
Well, when I picked Emma up at lunch time to bring her home to eat like usual...she shared a little story with me about their pancake time. As we walked along our usual path, she began by saying how boooored she was sitting there watching everyone eat...waiting for them to be finished...just sitting there talking with some friends. She said that a very nice woman came around to the table to ask her if she wanted any pancakes. At this point Emma goes into her best southern accent (apparently the woman was from the deep south based on Emma's recount...lol) and tells me that they woman said, "Would ya like some pancakes hun?" Emma told her no thank you and the woman went on about the rest of the table. A little while later she came back up to Emma and said, "Aww are ya SURE hun? Can't I get ya some pancakes?" and Emma said no thank you once again. Well, I guess this woman felt like Emma was just being polite or something and pushed it once again. Emma then told her that no she did not want any pancakes because she's diabetic and she can't. Hmmmmm....hearing her retell this part of the story was kind of like a punch to the gut for me. I have always made it clear to Emma that food is never the issue...she can eat absolutely anything she wants to eat...because that is what our doctor and our diabetes team has told us from the beginning. (I know other places do not handle things this way...but ours does) So, based on that...it kind of threw me off to hear those words come from her mouth. I have made it one of my top priorities to make her see that diabetes can not and will not hold her back or prevent her from participating in things and enjoying the exact same things as her friends. I think it's important.
I think Emma must have sensed my surprise at her statement to this woman because she looked up at me with an annoyed look in her eyes and said, "I KNOW MOMMY, I KNOW I can eat anything I want....I just didn't want to have to explain it to this lady...she kept bugging me and asking me and I just wanted her to stop...so that was the only way I could do it."
I'm not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand I am proud of her for standing up for herself in her own round about way. On the other hand I am not so happy that she took the easy way out and used her diabetes as an excuse...and in turn further perpetuated the ignorance that is out there in the world about type 1 diabetes. On the other hand (wait...I don't have three hands , do i?! Oh well...stay with me on this one) I feel bad for not being happy with the option she took to get this lady to stop asking...I mean she is JUST a kid...she shouldn't have to sit there and explain and educate adults about her diabetes.
So, I am left feeling a little torn...a little confuzzled about it all. Curious as to how you all would feel about a scenario like this too?
Well, when I picked Emma up at lunch time to bring her home to eat like usual...she shared a little story with me about their pancake time. As we walked along our usual path, she began by saying how boooored she was sitting there watching everyone eat...waiting for them to be finished...just sitting there talking with some friends. She said that a very nice woman came around to the table to ask her if she wanted any pancakes. At this point Emma goes into her best southern accent (apparently the woman was from the deep south based on Emma's recount...lol) and tells me that they woman said, "Would ya like some pancakes hun?" Emma told her no thank you and the woman went on about the rest of the table. A little while later she came back up to Emma and said, "Aww are ya SURE hun? Can't I get ya some pancakes?" and Emma said no thank you once again. Well, I guess this woman felt like Emma was just being polite or something and pushed it once again. Emma then told her that no she did not want any pancakes because she's diabetic and she can't. Hmmmmm....hearing her retell this part of the story was kind of like a punch to the gut for me. I have always made it clear to Emma that food is never the issue...she can eat absolutely anything she wants to eat...because that is what our doctor and our diabetes team has told us from the beginning. (I know other places do not handle things this way...but ours does) So, based on that...it kind of threw me off to hear those words come from her mouth. I have made it one of my top priorities to make her see that diabetes can not and will not hold her back or prevent her from participating in things and enjoying the exact same things as her friends. I think it's important.
I think Emma must have sensed my surprise at her statement to this woman because she looked up at me with an annoyed look in her eyes and said, "I KNOW MOMMY, I KNOW I can eat anything I want....I just didn't want to have to explain it to this lady...she kept bugging me and asking me and I just wanted her to stop...so that was the only way I could do it."
I'm not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand I am proud of her for standing up for herself in her own round about way. On the other hand I am not so happy that she took the easy way out and used her diabetes as an excuse...and in turn further perpetuated the ignorance that is out there in the world about type 1 diabetes. On the other hand (wait...I don't have three hands , do i?! Oh well...stay with me on this one) I feel bad for not being happy with the option she took to get this lady to stop asking...I mean she is JUST a kid...she shouldn't have to sit there and explain and educate adults about her diabetes.
So, I am left feeling a little torn...a little confuzzled about it all. Curious as to how you all would feel about a scenario like this too?
Monday, February 20, 2012
Sends chills down my spine
There are really few things in this world that will send chills down my spine anymore. I don't scare easily. I have seen too many things and had to endure too many things in my 35 years that have caused me to sort of build up this wall of safety around me. I have always been a risk taker. I tend to follow my heart as opposed to my head...which doesn't always turn out to be a good thing...but it's who I am.
However, since diabetes has come into our lives, I've realized that there are a few phrases that send me into a pure state of panic. One of them being "Mommy! I think I'm LOW!" As soon as I hear those words fall from Emma's lips, my heart begins to pound, my hands begin to shake, a sweat breaks out on my forehead...and yet at the same time my blood seems to turn to ice coursing through my body...numbing everything. Panic. Fear. Worry. Anger. Stress. Wondering if this time will be THE time. The time that I have to use the emergency glucagon shot. The time that I won't be lucky and I won't be able to get that low blood sugar to come back up. The time that she will pass out and have a seizure in front of me...in my arms. I wonder if this time will be the time that I will hear her shout that phrase from her bedroom and I will race up the stairs with the blood sugar meter in my shaking hands and open the door to find her convulsing in her bed...eyes rolled back in her head...flailing about...seizing...or worse yet....unconscious....limp...her tiny 8 year old body motionless...lifeless...gone. I wonder these things everytime I hear that phrase come out of her mouth and it terrifies me.
It's really shocking to me that I don't read about more D-parents having heart attacks. With the amount of panic...the amount of immediate stress in those situations...the overwhelmingly pure feeling of fear. The things it must do to our insides....I am really surprised.
Yet, we soldier on...we keep hearing those phrases...we keep fixing the lows...we keep racing up those stairs and giving them life saving juice. We keep staying up all night. We keep checking blood sugars. We keep going...on and on and on like the Energizer bunny. We do it...and we all will continue to do it because we love our kids. It's an amazing thing if you think about it...the weight we carry around every day...and yet we still are able to smile, laugh, have fun with our kids, make them happy. It's pretty incredible in my opinion.
However, since diabetes has come into our lives, I've realized that there are a few phrases that send me into a pure state of panic. One of them being "Mommy! I think I'm LOW!" As soon as I hear those words fall from Emma's lips, my heart begins to pound, my hands begin to shake, a sweat breaks out on my forehead...and yet at the same time my blood seems to turn to ice coursing through my body...numbing everything. Panic. Fear. Worry. Anger. Stress. Wondering if this time will be THE time. The time that I have to use the emergency glucagon shot. The time that I won't be lucky and I won't be able to get that low blood sugar to come back up. The time that she will pass out and have a seizure in front of me...in my arms. I wonder if this time will be the time that I will hear her shout that phrase from her bedroom and I will race up the stairs with the blood sugar meter in my shaking hands and open the door to find her convulsing in her bed...eyes rolled back in her head...flailing about...seizing...or worse yet....unconscious....limp...her tiny 8 year old body motionless...lifeless...gone. I wonder these things everytime I hear that phrase come out of her mouth and it terrifies me.
It's really shocking to me that I don't read about more D-parents having heart attacks. With the amount of panic...the amount of immediate stress in those situations...the overwhelmingly pure feeling of fear. The things it must do to our insides....I am really surprised.
Yet, we soldier on...we keep hearing those phrases...we keep fixing the lows...we keep racing up those stairs and giving them life saving juice. We keep staying up all night. We keep checking blood sugars. We keep going...on and on and on like the Energizer bunny. We do it...and we all will continue to do it because we love our kids. It's an amazing thing if you think about it...the weight we carry around every day...and yet we still are able to smile, laugh, have fun with our kids, make them happy. It's pretty incredible in my opinion.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Another milestone reached tonight
There are many significant moments in a child's life that we as parents will always remember. Moments that stick out and are forever etched in our minds. The first steps...first words...first birthday...first day of school...when they learn how to ride a bike...first crush. It is as old as time and the circle will continue onward from our parents to us to our kids to our grandkids and so on. We celebrate these milestones. We reflect on past moments and past achievements as each new one arrives.
When Emma was diagnosed, I never really would have thought of any milestones occuring that would have made me stop and think...be proud...and sad...and reflective all at the same time. I never would have thought that I would have included these diabetic milestones in my album of memories that I hold near to my heart....but I do. The first time Emma gave herself an injection when she was still on pen needles. The first time she checked her own blood sugar. The first day of school that she handled snack times on her own. The first fundraiser idea that she had. The first severe low...and the first crazy high. The first time she was hospitalized because of a nasty stomach virus. The first time she recognized a low on her own and told me about it. The time that she decided she was ready to go on an insulin pump. The first infusion site she had put in....fighting through her tears and crippling fear...letting her brave spirit take over. Day 1 of pumping..seeing her walk around proudly wearing this new device that would make her life so much easier. The first time she bolused herself before eating. The first time she showed interest in learning how to do a site change...and learning how to make basal changes and insulin to carb ratio changes all on her own.
It's been nearly 4 years now for us and I can honestly say that we have been through a lot...some bad...but definitely a whole lot that is good. Well, today I was able to add one more moment...one more milestone to my list for her. I was sitting on the couch helping her work on one of those little loom things that they sell for kids that you can make a pot holder out of. LOVE those things by the way! I have to giggle because I very vividly remember having my own and making a pot holder for my own 2nd grade teacher...being very proud of it and loving the smile on my teachers face when I gave it to her. Anyway, I was busy trying to finish it off for her and she stood up and walked into the kitchen without a word. I thought that she was just going to throw something away or grab a water or something....until I heard the familiar beep of the blood sugar meter. I asked her if she was low. She said that yes she felt low and was just going to check to make sure. My heart sank...........for a number of reasons. First one being the fact that she was in fact low. Second one being that she had taken it upon herself to go and check...instead of the usual thing of telling me she felt low and me being the one to go get the meter and check. It made me feel extremely proud of her...proud that she is recognizing lows more often, proud that she is confident enough to just go check for herself, proud that she is growing up and taking charge of her diabetes and managing it to the best of her 8 year old ability, proud....I was simply proud of her. For as much pride as I felt though...I also felt a deep painful sadness. I was sad that I was witnessing first hand once again how diabetes has forced her to mature way faster than your average 8 year old. I was sad that this is even considered an accomplishment in my eyes. Sad that this would be something to make me proud. Sad that I now had another milestone to record under the diabetes section of my mind.
So, we accept it and keep moving....realize that she is growing up...there's still not a cure...this is part of her life...and she is taking control of it and showing independance as each year passes us by. That is an impressive thing and I think I will try to shove the sadness down about it and just focus on the pride for now.
When Emma was diagnosed, I never really would have thought of any milestones occuring that would have made me stop and think...be proud...and sad...and reflective all at the same time. I never would have thought that I would have included these diabetic milestones in my album of memories that I hold near to my heart....but I do. The first time Emma gave herself an injection when she was still on pen needles. The first time she checked her own blood sugar. The first day of school that she handled snack times on her own. The first fundraiser idea that she had. The first severe low...and the first crazy high. The first time she was hospitalized because of a nasty stomach virus. The first time she recognized a low on her own and told me about it. The time that she decided she was ready to go on an insulin pump. The first infusion site she had put in....fighting through her tears and crippling fear...letting her brave spirit take over. Day 1 of pumping..seeing her walk around proudly wearing this new device that would make her life so much easier. The first time she bolused herself before eating. The first time she showed interest in learning how to do a site change...and learning how to make basal changes and insulin to carb ratio changes all on her own.
It's been nearly 4 years now for us and I can honestly say that we have been through a lot...some bad...but definitely a whole lot that is good. Well, today I was able to add one more moment...one more milestone to my list for her. I was sitting on the couch helping her work on one of those little loom things that they sell for kids that you can make a pot holder out of. LOVE those things by the way! I have to giggle because I very vividly remember having my own and making a pot holder for my own 2nd grade teacher...being very proud of it and loving the smile on my teachers face when I gave it to her. Anyway, I was busy trying to finish it off for her and she stood up and walked into the kitchen without a word. I thought that she was just going to throw something away or grab a water or something....until I heard the familiar beep of the blood sugar meter. I asked her if she was low. She said that yes she felt low and was just going to check to make sure. My heart sank...........for a number of reasons. First one being the fact that she was in fact low. Second one being that she had taken it upon herself to go and check...instead of the usual thing of telling me she felt low and me being the one to go get the meter and check. It made me feel extremely proud of her...proud that she is recognizing lows more often, proud that she is confident enough to just go check for herself, proud that she is growing up and taking charge of her diabetes and managing it to the best of her 8 year old ability, proud....I was simply proud of her. For as much pride as I felt though...I also felt a deep painful sadness. I was sad that I was witnessing first hand once again how diabetes has forced her to mature way faster than your average 8 year old. I was sad that this is even considered an accomplishment in my eyes. Sad that this would be something to make me proud. Sad that I now had another milestone to record under the diabetes section of my mind.
So, we accept it and keep moving....realize that she is growing up...there's still not a cure...this is part of her life...and she is taking control of it and showing independance as each year passes us by. That is an impressive thing and I think I will try to shove the sadness down about it and just focus on the pride for now.
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