Thursday, May 25, 2017

Letting Go ... A Bit More

Sometimes I feel like this d' mom business is like being drug down a path, not of my choosing - mind you, by my 4th toenail; I claw and scratch and dig at the earth in resistance.  I worry.  Many times I feel alone with that worry, as it can be belittled by those who don't truly understand the nuances of t1d.


Maybe it's because he hasn't really ran this far before.

Maybe it's because it's a crowded and chaotic event.

Maybe it's because we really have no experience with basal reduction and carb boosting with distance running.

Maybe it's the logistics of him running 5.3 miles out and then needing to take a shuttle, on his own, to get back to the finish line.  

Maybe it's because I'm running the whole marathon and I won't be able to get to him easily if he needs help.

My friend offered Joe a leg in the Vermont City Marathon.  It is taking place this Sunday.  I am registered to run the marathon and Bridget is going to do a half marathon.  It's a big event for Burlington, Vermont.  The news has been broadcasting updates on the weather and marathon details for over a week now.  Downtown Burlington is congested with thousands and thousands of people: runners, spectators, and volunteers. 

When my friend asked Joe about the leg, I was sitting in between her and Joe.  Joe perked up and confirmed he would like to run the leg.  I kinda did a grumbly-mumbly under my breath 'uhm...we aren't really prepared for him to run a leg.'

My friend: 'Oh don't worry my kids haven't done that distance either.'

Me: 'No...d...ddiabetes."

I felt bad for even saying that.  I don't think Joe heard me.  Yes, I have always tried to show him he can do anything despite having diabetes.  He has....but...I've always been there.  I've been there with sugar sources, back-up supplies, and a brain that can make split decisions about bolusing, boosting, and adjusting pump settings. This will be a 5 mile jog without his parents close by, but surrounded by thousands of people...and aid stations...and even medical stations...and there is even a race tracking app.  I guess it's as good of an event as any to let go a bit more.

Last night..

' can do it, but you need to have sugar with you, your phone with you...and you have to wear your medical ID.'

'I will Mom.'

Monday, March 6, 2017

The Game

5:18 am - no signal on his CGM.

I should check him.  If he is high, there is plenty of time to correct; a little over 5 hours.  I was careful not to wake him. He needs his sleep; especially today.  I lifted his ring finger and pressed the lancing device firm to his finger tip, hoping to avoid the need for multiple pokes to get a blood drop.  He was 386.  Not a great number.  I corrected and plodded out of his room and down the stairs.

Was the ringing tinnitus?  Or his POD?  I went to the bottom of the stairway and didn't hear anything, so assumed it was me and my aging ears.

5:38 am - Joe came down the stairs.  The ringing was his POD; it failed. The beeping from the POD woke him.  He's up.  It's game day.  It's State Championship game day.  I hate diabetes.

Joe changed his POD.  We bolused for the portion of the correction not given, due to the failure.  Joe ate; bolused for that too.

Around 8am - BG remained 386; a correction was given.  There was still 3 hours until game time.

9:30-ish am - BG 156. Two juice boxes (44grams CHO) were chugged in the car en route to the rink.

10:10 - BG 171.  Skittles (a fistful) was consumed.

10:50 - BG 263.  A good place to be for Joe to play the game.

All this work.  *sigh*

All this work...he endures daily.

He went down in the first eight minutes or so of the game.  His hip had been an issue the prior week.  It popped while he was skating and he went down.  The game was paused, while he removed himself from the ice.  He hobbled off the ice, off the bench, and into the locker room.  When I got to him...tears.  He was removing his pads; they were forcefully chucked into his bag.  Win or lose, more than anything else... he wanted to be playing with his team.  He watched the remainder of the game from the bench.  His team was the Runner Up for the State of VT; they lost the state championship 2-1.

I wish I didn't feel like this.  I wish I could just write that we've got this.  I wish I could say we are warriors and nothing gets us down.  Frankly, I'm disappointed for him.  And.  I feel a bit bitter.  He endures enough...just to get to the stupid game.  Sorry.

His blood sugar after the game, after all those carbs and then not skating...126.  Nice.

Kinda pissed off about the day-in-the-life.

Monday, February 6, 2017

I'm a Checker, but not a Mice Checker...Yo

A few days ago..
Pre-post note:  We are currently besieged by mice.  Traps are set in the basement and the main level of our home. 

The words "GI BUG" scare the BeJeezus outta even the most resilient, calm, cool, and collected of d' rents.  Joe currently has one.  I was up at 3 am ... checking a blood glucose, ketones, and then bolusing insulin.

As Dave woke, I updated him on the night care provided.

Me:  "I checked his BG...high 200s, ketones were OK...I've bolused twice over the last three hours."

Him:  "What about the mice?"

Me:  "What?"
A sick Joe with Oscar.  Miniature Schnauzers are supposed to be mousers! 

Him:  "Did you check the mice?" (referring to our traps)

Me:  "I'm the ketone checker; you're the mice checker."

Checking in on the day-in-the-life, but not on the mice. 😱