Diabetes is hard! Some days you’re the windshield…some days you’re the bug

This post was originally written in 2009.  My son now manages his own diabetes care .  He wakes for his lows.  He treats his highs but one thing remains the same–diabetes is hard no matter who is responsible for care for the daily tasks. 

Diabetes is hard

“Some days you’re the windshield, some days you’re the bug.” Today I am definitely feeling like the bug!

It was after midnight and of course I was dying to get to sleep. I had set my alarm for early the next morning.  It would be my son’s last day of school.

I found a meter and a strip. I grabbed a lancet, waded through all of the junk that the boys had left on the stairs rather than putting away and was off to test my son’s blood sugar level. I hope it would be the last check for a few hours. One check and I could sleep!

We had been out for pizza earlier that day to celebrate good grades so I was certain that my youngest son would still be high. He had been  16 mmol (288) earlier in the evening  so you know I was certain that I was  going to be able to rest.

Wrong! Diabetes doesn’t work that way.

I took the meter. I lanced his finger  and created a pool of  blood. The strip refused to suck. What the???? Okay, I cleaned the finger. I got more blood. I tried again. The glucometer just barely accepted the blood. I waited for the reading…E5. It was an error reading!! There hadn’t been enough blood to get a blood sugar reading. Oh the lovely four letter words that were on the tip of my tongue as I headed back downstairs to get new equipment.

I found a new meter. I was certain that this one had to be better than the last. A new test strip was in my hand. The same lancing device was being used. Back up the stairs I went.  This time I grumbled and picked up items as I went.

Once again, I lanced my son’s finger. Again, I got a large amount of blood. The strip sucked the blood  this time! I walked towards the stairs not even considering having to correct a high blood glucose reading. That was a good thing because he didn’t need insulin.  He was 3.2 (57). He was low!

I uttered a few more choice words as I shuffled off to get some juice. I filled a glass, found a straw and trudged up the stairs for a third time in less than five minutes.

My son wasn’t keen on drinking. I continued to cajole him until he finally began to  sip. Thankfully he drank it all except the last few drops. Those were sucked up into the straw and somehow flew all over his pillow.  I was not happy.  There was now strawberry juice all over a cream pillow case.  I cleaned it off as best as I could and  waited.

Fifteen minutes can become a lifetime when you are dying for sleep. These are the moments when you just think to yourself…diabetes is hard.  Why us?

Eventually it was time to retest.  He was  5.5 (99) and I was finally off to bed for two hours before it would be time to test again.

Diabetes is hard.  Diabetes care is a challenge.  Some days things seem okay…and other days you feel like you are a bug squished against a windshield.

 

 

Blue Candles…once again

In July of 2011, I sat down and posted my thoughts on the blue candles.  Those of us in the Diabetes Online Community know them all too well. They are candles lit when a person with diabetes loses their fight with this disease.  

Last week I saw them appear twice.  A young boy around 11 years old and then another child just beginning their life as a young adult dead at age 18.  Heart breaking, painful and leaving us desperate for a cure, I also thought is was a good time to revisit that post.  The circumstances of my life have a changed a bit. My children and I are both older but the feelings remain the same…

Blue Candles–they are the candles that we light in cyberspace to remember someone with diabetes who has lost the fight. Each month, each week, we seem to see these images pop up across the online community.  As profile pictures are changed on Facebook stories emerge, fears grow and the desire for a cure is that much stronger.

Most recently the candles were lit for a bright, young fourteen year old girl. She was diagnosed when she was four years old.  She laid down for a nap and her father found her dead on her bed a few hours later.  The story sends chills down my spine.  She did not die at night. She passed away sometime during the afternoon.  We do not know many of the details.  We only know that she was far too young to die.

I don’t tell my son about these stories any more. He is almost the same age and has had diabetes for a few years more than she did. I don’t light candles on my Facebook profile.  I don’t write about half of the stories that I hear.  I can’t. I read about these children–whether they are fourteen or forty, they are still someone’s children.  My heart breaks for the parents and the families. I hug my boys a little closer. I pray a little harder. I hope for the very best.

I was reading a story one day of another child lost and of course had teared up a little. Someone told me that many children sadly die each day.  It could be a complication from cancer or an asthma attack but other diseases kill as well. It was suggested that I can’t focus on these deaths and be obsessed or paranoid. I reassured this person that I wasn’t. I read. I mourn. My heart aches for the families and I grieve for the life cut short before its time.

It is true that our children die crossing the street, riding in cars and playing in swimming pools.  As parents, we do our very best to protect them.  We teach them to look both ways before crossing the street. We put them in car seats and demand that they were seat belts.  We teach them water safety and we warn them about the dangers of drugs and alcohol.  All in all we do our very best to guide them and pray that they will be okay.

As parents of children with diabetes, we do all of that “normal” stuff and then we do a little more.  We work to help them to recognize highs and lows.  We test them as often as we can.  We keep tight control to prevent complications and fear going too far and having to wake to a child gone because of a low.  These fears are real. They do not keep me up all night but they do wake me up at 2am to test.  They do not stop me from letting my son be a child but it does make me check his pockets for glucose and his cell phone when he goes out.

As a parent, I cannot protect either of my children 24/7 for the rest of their lives. I wish I could. As much as I love watching them grow, think and spread their wings, part of me craves for the days past when I held them tight and could keep them safe in my arms.  They are growing. My oldest son is driving and almost out of school.  My youngest is well into his teen aged years and venturing off on his own more and more.  Diabetes or not, I can only pray I have done my best, continue to do as much as I can and leave the rest up to a higher power.

Last night was my son’s first night home after a few weeks away. I went to bed and woke a few hours later than I had planned to but he was low. The story behind one of the recently light blue candles played itself out in the back of my head. After 45 minutes and a lot of juice, his blood glucose levels were back in range and I could return to bed. I said a prayer of thanks that I woke up to test him. I prayed for families who were not so lucky.  I touched my son’s hair and wanted to hold him tight and kiss him gently on the forehead like I used to when he was small. He is now a teen. If I did anything beyond quietly touch his hair he would wake up creeped out and would claim nightmares for the rest of the night! Instead, I watched him sleep and I thanked God that he was alive, healthy and happy.

I will test my son at all hours. I will remind him to bolus.  I will deal with late night lows.  I will demand to know where he is going when he leaves the house. I will preach the evils of smoking, drug use and the dangers of too much alcohol.  That is my job and I need to know that when I close my eyes I have done that job to the best of my ability. This will never guarantee the 100% safety of either of my boys but its my very best and that is all a parent can ever do.

Another Night, Another Battle with the DMonster

3:15am.  I looked at the clock and began to do the math. How long was it since my son went to bed? What would his bg level have been? Do I really need to test yet or was it too soon? My bed was comfy.  It took me forever to fall asleep.  Did I need to get up or should I sleep another hour?

I figured that he had probably tested around 1am but something still made me drag my tired butt out of bed. I made sure to not be fully awake. No major movements to disturb the still sleeping parts of my body.  All would be fine. My mind would be appeased and I could go back to bed…or so I would have liked but the meter said differently.

He was 4.3 (77).  Not ideal for sleeping in my world.  I quickly woke the rest of my body and my brain began to fire on a few more cylinders.  It was time to find some glucose! I went to the fridge and for some reason it was filled with diet Pepsi, diet lemonade, and zero calorie flavored water.  Nothing with any decent amount of carbs in it! Okay no panic I had glucose somewhere. Eventually I found a bottle of liquid glucose.  I got my son up enough to drink and sat on the couch to wait.

I checked out the world of Twitter. I caught up on the latest happenings in the world of Facebook and read a few pages of my book.  Soon it was time to check him again.  Success…well sort of. He was now 4.6 (83).  It was still far from ideals but he was on his way up.  I scoured his room and found a bottle of glucose tablets. He would not be happy in the morning. He says that they leave a crappy taste in his mouth when he gets up but a glucose hangover it would be.  I fed him three tablets while he slept and returned to my own bed.

I wish I could say that I instantly fell asleep but I didn’t.  By 5:30 I was still staring at  the clock.  Thankfully its Saturday so I could sleep in a little bit but by 6 I checked one more time just to make sure all was still okay. He was a lovely 7(126) so I was happy to doze for a few more hours.

Diabetes may have kicked my sleep pattern to the curb for one night but we are ready to fight another day…and make a few changes to summer basal patterns!

fight the d monster