And then... Diabetes

Today has been one of those days.  Admittedly, it's only halfway over, but I am all the way done.

Today has sent one of my children into tears anytime you talk to them.  Crying because they have to sit on the toilet, eat breakfast, sit at the table, wear shoes (or anything on their feet).  Crying because they are not allowed to wear pyjamas out to run errands, the dog is in their way, and it's too hot out.

So. Much. Crying.

Today it took almost 60 minutes to leave to house.  Because of wardrobe issues, foot ware issues, having to poop/not being able to poop x 2 (kids, not me), and our dog going missing.  Turns out she was locked in the office, and hadn't run away into the back field like I thought she had.

Today was supposed to be a day of running errands to three different stores, but we only made it to two, because I might have been a little afraid that I would leave my children at the last stop... accidentally on purpose.

Today one of my children decided to wear shoes that were too small (despite being warned), and ended up with ginourmous, painful blisters on their feet. This necessitated said child having to ride on the side of the cart, which resulted in said child knocking a bunch of salad dressing bottles to the floor as we were trying to pass another cart.

Of course, because today was today... the plastic bottles broke and ranch splattered everywhere. Much like my hopes for today getting any better.  Clean up on aisle 8, please.

Today the store was out of milk.  And Orange juice.  Meaning I'll have to go back at some point.

And the child in the second paragraph?  Still crying.

And it's times like these that diabetes always decides to be a jerk.  It's never when I'm sitting on the sofa with my feet up, noshing on some bon bons (she said, sarcastically).  

Nope, diabetes seems to like to poke it's head in when I'm losing my proverbial shit.

Because today, a dexcom sensor was ripped off as Elise was getting dressed.  A three-day old sensor.

Being blind during the warm-up period, we didn't know she was going high.  Because of Nightscout, I had my raw data, and it was telling me she was running in the high 100s (normal after breakfast). The 2-hour check put her closer to 300. So we corrected off that number.

That correction plummeted her to 40. She was barely coherent. It took her 30 minutes to get better.

As an aside: I'm pretty sure meter accuracy is the culprit on this one. Even though the strips are testing in range with the control solution (albeit, on the higher end), every 5 strips or so, we notice a huge discrepancy between the meter and dex.  Today, we checked twice (to calibrate dex), and both numbers were around the same. 

So I'm deciding to to send today to time out.  Along with my children.  Because I've got some bon bons to eat.

Just Don't Say Nothing

This past FFL was a hard one to go to.  Two years ago, I was 15 weeks pregnant with my fourth child.  Two weeks after I came home from the conference, I lost the baby.  The Marriott is full of bittersweet memories.

As I was on my way to one session, I passed a seating area that I remembered from two years ago.  There I had sat, flanked by two of my wonderful FFLs, talking with Joe Solo.  I was feeling so tired.  But so happy.  I could feel my baby kicking, and it was wonderful.

This Thursday marks the two year anniversary of the day Nicolas was born still.  And much like most sad anniversaries, diaversaries included, it will pass largely unnoticed.

This post really isn't directed towards those living with D, but those of you who knows someone who does.

Anyone who has had something sad or bad happen to them, knows that most people don't know how to respond.  As the "anyone" in the last sentence, let me give you this nugget of wisdom:

Just Don't Say Nothing.

Even if the diagnosis was years ago, they still might need your words.

Sometimes when they're living in the mundane, everyday of their life, they need to know that someone is thinking of them, and caring about their struggles.

They need to be seen.

I'll never forget the time I was out at a restaurant with Elise when she was a baby.  I had checked her BG, given her a shot and fed her.  Towards the end of the meal, an older gentleman came up to me and said, "I think you're doing a wonderful job, mom."

Oh. My. Gosh.  The tears.  He saw me.  There I was, just doing what had become routine (a very crappy routine), and he saw me.

And Said Something.

After I admit that I've been struggling, people often ask me, "why didn't you say anything?"

My answer is this; sometimes, you are too busy drowning to scream.  When you're drowning, it takes every ounce of what you have to just keep your head above the water.  You don't have the energy to scream.  You need those who are around you to look up and take notice.

You need to be seen.

While I was at the conference, a friend mentioned my blog, and talked about Nicolas.  And you know what?  Mentioning Nicolas didn't make me sad.  I'm already sad.  My heart already hurts.  Speaking his name cannot break my heart anymore than it already is.

No, talking about Nicolas brought me joy.  Because someone remembered him.  My friend "saw" him. And by doing so, saw me.

Just Don't Say Nothing.

I've also experienced the opposite; friends that are completely tuned out.  And their silence speaks volumes.  

If you know someone with diabetes, or who has a child with diabetes, or a spouse with diabetes, or is dealing with some type of heartache:

Tell them you see them.

Tell them you love them.

Let them know they're doing a good job.

Just Don't Say Nothing.

Miss In-D-pendent

One of the things I love about going to Friends For Life (post-conference wrap-up to be posted soon... I hope), is how it not only renews my energy and hope, but it also gives Elise a boost in self-confidence in taking control of her own care.

She's shown signs of this pre-conference; not having to be asked to check her BG before a meal, entering the carbs and bolusing herself, and even helping me to count the carbs. Gone are the days of total dependence.

Sure there were slip ups... like the time she was bolusing herself for her lunch, and she somehow pressed the up arrow on the amount of insulin to be bolused, and received double the insulin she was supposed to get.  The only reason I caught this was because after she finished eating, dex was showing double arrows down. Which led me to investigate what had happened on her PDM.

It took a few minutes of blinking stupidly at the PDM, but I eventually figured out the error and bonus carbs were dispensed.

Have I mentioned how awesome the dex is lately?  No?  I apologize... thank you Dexcom for helping me to keep my daughter safe.  You rock.

Anyway, Elise arrived home from FFL and let me know she wanted to be "more mature in taking care of herself" (yes, those words exactly).  

She decided she wanted to wear my old Pebble watch, so she could keep an eye on her numbers.

She told me she wanted to make food choices that weren't so hard on her blood sugar.

And, unbeknownst to me, she wanted to start doing all the checking, bolusing, and carb counting without any adult supervision.  Oy.

Because of the aforementioned slip-up, we had talked about needing to show me her PDM before she bolused... not because I didn't trust her, but I just wanted to make sure all the numbers made sense.

Well, the other day, after we got back from FFL, the kids were attending their summer camp at the local pre-school.

Side note: This is the pre-school that all my kids have gone to.  They hold a two week summer camp for kids 2-5 years old.  Obviously, Elise does not fall into this category, but because her former teacher there runs the camp, Elise is always invited to attend the camp with her brothers as a helper. Our pre-school also rocks.

During camp, the kids eat a snack and their lunch.  I told Elise she needed to call me when she was going to eat, so we could decide on what to bolus.  The first day I got a text from her with her BG and the carb amount.  Nothing more.  I texted her back asking what her IOB was and what was bolused.  Silence.  So I texted her teacher, who got Elise to call me and let me know her bolus was 1.55 units for 26g of carbs.  Waaaaaaaay to much insulin. I then realized that the snack was early enough in the day that her breakfast ratio was the culprit. I told her to eat some glucose tabs and all was well.

Yes, that one was my fault.  I should have adjusted the time on her breakfast ratio, but I forgot. When she got home, I explained to Elise why it is so important to go over the numbers with me and that was that.

Until the other night.  She was at a friend's house when they decided to have a snack of baby carrots and ranch, without telling the mom.  They had eaten dinner only about 90 minutes earlier, so there was still IOB.  Elise took it upon herself to count the carbs and bolus herself.  

For 80g of carbs.  

She had 10 carrots.  She looked at the carb amount and the package said 8g. So Elise reasoned that if she had 8 carrots... 8 x 10 = 80.  

I guess it's time to have a lesson on serving sizes.  

Luckily, Elise also reasoned that she had enough IOB to cover the carrots, so she zeroed out the bolus and didn't give herself any insulin. Crisis averted, another discussion had. 

I realize this is a very long post, but lately I've been struggling with the "letting go and letting her".  I am all for kids being able to go out and learn from experience and making mistakes... it's just that there's a chance that if Elise makes a mistake and it's not caught, there could be dire consequences. 

Like I've said before, "it's a dance, and I'm doing my best to teach her the steps."

Back to Reality

Re-entry into the real world is hard, yo.

I'm hereeere!

Happy 149th Birthday Canada!

It all started with a simple picture of my 10 month old daughter holding a Canadian flag.  Now 8 years later, all 3 of my kids proudly wave the maple leaf on Canada Day. 

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Tell me what’s a Douglas Fir 

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Betcha never heard a bobcat purr

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Have you ever seen a lobster crawl?

In Canada, we get to see them all.

We get to see the maple trees, maple sugar and the maple leaves,

We got the biggest wheat fields growing tall

In C-A-N-A-D-A, where we see the reversing falls

In Canada, we get to see them all.

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Tell me, what’s a tidal bore,

 C-A-N-A-D-A,

Have you ever heard the ocean roar?

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Just listen to that wild goose call.

In Canada, we get to see them all

We get to see the maple trees, maple sugar and the maple leaves,

We got the biggest timber woods so tall 

In C-A-N-A-D-A, where adventure ever calls,

In Canada, we get to see them all.

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Have you ever heard a maple creak?

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Betcha never seen a mountain peak.

C-A-N-A-D-A,

In the land of the big snowball.

In Canada, we get to see them all.

We get to see the maple trees, maple sugar and the maple leaves,

We got the biggest wheat fields growing tall

In C-A-N-A-D-A, where we see the reversing falls,

In Canada, we get to see them all.

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Have you ever seen a magnetic hill?

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Or a lady on a dollar bill?

C-A-N-A-D-A,

Betcha never seen the autumn fall.

We get to see the maple trees, maple sugar and the maple leaves,

We got the biggest timber woods so tall 

In C-A-N-A-D-A, where adventure ever calls,

In Canada, we get to see them all.

*Lyrics from the song C-A-N-A-D-A by Raffi

Happy Canada Day to all my Canadian peeps out there. 

Ittt