Mondays and Fridays are "running days" for this Mama Pancreas. I usually ask Joe how far I should run as I drive him to school. He usually sticks somewhere between 7 and 10 miles with his responses.
Me: "Joe, how far should I go on my run today?"
Joe: "How far did you go last time you ran?"
Me: "7 miles."
Joe: "Go 8...you should always try to improve on yourself." (Is he for real?)
Me: "Joe it did snow like 10 or so inches in the last few days. The path will be very difficult."
Joe: "OK, 7.5...that is still better than 7." - UGH.
So, I dropped Joe off. I headed home. I ran. I use Yaktrax (thanks to my brother and sister-in-law's Christmas gift and my sister, Tara's advice to run with them) on the snowy, icy Vermont sidewalks. I feel like I have been "popped" into four-wheel drive with those bad boys strapped to my feet. It was cold. The high was around 14 degrees. I ran...and ran...contemplating the 8...miles...
And my son...
Joe has a hockey tournament this weekend. It is out-of-town. It is his first. I was going through the "diabetes supply list" and checking it mentally, as my heart was like pounding out of my chest from the exertion of the run. I was then thinking what if Joe goes down on the ice rink, or more worrisome...goes down and passes out. Then I questioned... Would I just run out and jab him with Glucagon? Check a blood glucose first? I don't know why this vision went through my head. It is fucking hockey afterall. He goes down a lot. He is Joe. He gets right back up and he skates. But, anyway...I decided during my whole "I am dying from sloshing and sliding and slushing through the heavy wet snow, while running 7+ miles" psychotic-induced-haze that I would check a blood sugar first and then stab him with the Glucagon , if need be. For some reason I was then thinking of head injuries, and cerebral edema, and Mannitol, and serum osmolality, and if I accidentally made his glucose too high that it would not allow extra doses of Mannitol to be given to decrease intracellular edema. Ahhhh...yeah...a thought process infiltrated by my old Surgical Intensive Care nursing days. I am not even sure if I remember all of that correctly, as my brain has been taken over by the pickl-y penis-y looking organ, the pancreas, and by motherhood.
Back to this weekend...
As many of you D' Rents know an out-of-town athletic event will provide many blood sugar challenges. The activity level of two games a day... along with the hotel pool... and the added bonus of eating out ... and the wild ass guessing of Joe's carbohydrate consumption ... will be no easy feat. I am ready. I am thinking of myself as a Linda Hamilton (Terminator-y) kind of Pancreas this weekend. I have packed extra sugar sources, extra snacks, extra juices. I packed double of all supplies needed. I packed a back-up glucometer (remember this). I packed 10 transparent dressings to secure his pump sites while swimming. I am prepared to crank that basal up by 100% for the three hour drive. I do still need to insert a new Dexter, as Joe's current one is taped into place and is literally hanging on by the tip of the probe (I think it is day 10 anyway...it is the first Dexcom sensor that has been this accurate in a long, long time...I hate to part with it).
Although I am facing this weekend with a bit of trepidation, I am also looking forward to putting yet another first behind us. I admire Joe's heart, his love of the game, and his spirit to try. He enjoys a challenge and he makes all of us that know him put a little more "umph" into our everyday lives.
So, did I run the 8 miles? Nope. I ran 7.05 miles and then I made Joe and Bridget some chocolate chip cookies.
A day-in-the-life of gearing up for another first with "D" in the picture.
P.S. I'll be out of the loop for the next couple of days. I hope you guys have a great weekend!