Saturday, March 12, 2011

You Have NO Choice, You HAVE To...


Rough night ~

Several insulin correction doses through the night at two hour increments, a site failure, and subsequently a whole site "change-out" at 1am...another correction, a ketone check, a water re-fill, and a "tuck-in" of Joe, after the previously mentioned rendezvous between a needle and his ass cheek was our night last night. This is the reality of some of our nights. Most likely, our night sounds familiar to many of you. You live this. I live this. Our families live this. Live this way.

I may not know your diagnosis story. Your grief steps and stages may differ from mine. Your grieving timeline may have been quick. Or, it may have been tedious and long. Possibly, it oscillates back and forth on a grief-like pendulum, as I believe mine does.

What I do know, what I can tell you, is that it does get easier. I cannot tell you when. I cannot tell you how, but it does. Time helps. Living through it, although painful, helps. Family helps. Friends, they help.

Your circumstances in this life are, most likely, different than mine. Your support systems, your financial status, your vices vary from mine.

That is OK.
This is no matter.

What I can tell you is that you will make it through. When times seem bleak, your drive and determination to care for your child will see you to the next blood glucose number, to the next site change, to the next meal to carb count. You have no choice. It is your lot in life. You will do it. You will do it for your child. You will do it for you.

I am not sure if you are able to check a blood sugar, or give an injection, or insert a pump site without your child wincing or tearing-up. I know we still endure that here, sometimes... over four years into type 1 in our lives.

This I know. Sadly, it becomes easier to see the winces, to experience the cries, and to carry-on with business as usual. It is what must be done. There is no choice. You will do it. You have to.

How many tears have you shed since your child's diagnosis? This I do not know. I am sure it differs for us all, just as the grieving process does.

What I do know is that there will be rough patches no matter how much experience you have with managing diabetes in your child's life. You will be challenged. You will falter. You will learn. You will carry-on. You have no choice. You have to.

The instability of your child's blood sugar numbers, the "no rhyme, nor reason", the frustrations may visit you frequently, or ocassionally, or rarely. I don't know what you are currently enduring. I don't know your unique situation. I am unsure of the struggles you are facing presently.

What I do know. What I can tell you with certainty...especially those of you with young, young children with diabetes...is that the numbers will even out a bit. The variances will become less extreme. The lability will stagnate. You will sustain without yielding. It may be years of managing challenging numbers. It will knock you to your knees begging for mercy. It will challenge your mental and physical well being. However, you can do this. You will do this. You will do it for you. You will endure it for the love of your child.

And...

Perhaps that is why so many of us struggle. There was no choice. We do not have a choice. Our children do not have a choice. It just "is". So we do.

And...

I am thankful for the opportunity to be able to.

A day-in-the-life of hope.

27 comments:

Nikki said...

Those cheeks "will do it". <3

Alexis Nicole said...

Up at 4am. Reading your blog when I should be sleeping. Because i have no choice.

Amazing post. Its so true every word. If there was one thing I wish I had more of. Support from outside of the DOC. Thats for me what makes it harder.

I thank god for you guys everyday.

Xoxo

Lorraine of "This is Caleb..." said...

Yep. No choice. So we adapt. We adapt to an insane new normal. But thank goodness we do adapt. I feel like I'm even numb to it most of the time. A part of me - the part that is on 24/7 call for diabetes crisis - is numb. Does this qualify as a healthy form of schizophrenia? I don't know.

Sorry about last night dear. I'm always happy when the sun rises and we can start anew. And for whatever reason my brain believes that each night and each day will be better. But if not, that crisis-mode part of me is ready.

Stephanie said...

Love you, Reyna. Beautiful, true, post. There are so many days when I just want to give up, but I can't. I won't. I will make this as easy as I can for my boy. (((hugs)))

Anonymous said...

It is wonderful that you have the blog and can share your thoughts, emotions, and thoses of your dealing with your spouse, Dave and daughter, Bridget. Your do such a great job with all and I am sure it helps many other families. When others have close situations to yours they remember how a friend took care of it and I'm sure it gives them comfort to have read how you and your family walked the path.
Love you, Mom XOXO

Sysy said...

I don't have a diabetic child and have no clue what it's like. But your words give me strength in a situation that is in reverse. Me with type 1 with two young children. I just say prayers for you parents and feel thankful I have it this way and not the other way around.

Cindy said...

Oh, Reyna! Beautiful post. What you've written is exactly why it bothers us so much when unthinking people tell us they could never do what we do. There isn't any choice, so we just do it. Love you, Reyna! I hope you're all starting to feel better now that the pukies have passed and I hope Joe and you have an incredible day today to make up for the awful night!

Sarah said...

ahhh...blech! What a crap of a night. Those are the ones where you see the pile of trash in the morning and feel like you need Morning Relief alkaseltzer despite the lack of margaritaville!
We've been, well I've been at top notch sob fest around here - Isaac's birthday just started kicking my arse as I realize over and over how there is not a single "special" moment to take a brake from this darn D business for him...not one slice of cake, vanilla bean scone, or even grape...not one bounce on the trampoline, lap around the house on the kazamm...ugh.
Our babes are amazing. Truly. Wonderfully. Amazing!

Penny said...

Yep, well said Reyna. We have no other choice, so we get on with doing what we do. You are excellent at it by the way :0)

Carrie said...

I'm one of those people who reads your blog, but never leaves a comment (I know...totally selfish), but this post pulled me out of my hiding place. It speaks volumes to my tired, aching heart. This gig is unrelenting and brutal. Sometimes I want a break, I want to give up, but I keep on going because I have no choice. Nobody understands that- not my family, not my friends, so when I find posts like this that spell out my own hurt, frustration, and anger- I don't feel so alone.
Thanks for sharing your D life with all of us.

Fiona said...

Excellent post. As a T1, I occasionally have to deal with the "I don't know how you do it" question and I think I'm just going to start referring people to this post when they say that! And, love that you worked in "ass cheek." :)

Jessica said...

Group hug!!!!

Adrienne said...

Another fantastic post Reyna, just what I needed to read today. It's been a rough week at our house and I've been on auto pilot. Thank you for your kindness, your wicked sense of humor and always a virtual hug when one of us D-moms needs it. I adore you!

Five Bears A-Blogging said...

The bad nights make us so much more thankful for the good nights. Those spells of "stability" are a blessing that I know we are all grateful for, because they are punctuated by challenges. Knowing we are not alone in our rough patches makes all the difference...

Shamae said...

Beautiful post Reyna!! People say all the time, "I couldn't do that"...meaning take care of a T1 kid. I always say, you would if you had to. You would if that was the only way to keep your kid alive. Great post! Sorry I've been MIA. I've had a rough couple months but finally did some updates on my blog.

sfincham said...

Lows are bad news and I never ever would prefer them...but don't highs just kick your ASS?! For the love of GOD they last and last and last!I had a night of lows last night with Ellie and reading your post I know you had WAY more going on with a pesky high then I did. I swear highs make me sooo much more nuts than a little low problem...Keep it up...that whole wonky after sick BS BG Crap is for the birds and I hope it ends soon for Joe AND you! ((hugs)) Ugh! I hate pesky highs! I feel you mama!

Michelle said...

Great post Reyna! So true...every word of it! All too often people tell me, "I could never do that" when they see me check Charlotte's sugar or do a site change (or some other D-related task)...my response is always "you'd be amazed what you can do if it means keeping your child alive!"

htimm=) said...

This is a beautiful post, my friend! I hope your day/weekend was amazing! Thank-you for articulating this so well! I just love you!

Renata said...

I get a lot of D parents telling me I am crazy for getting up in the middle of the night. I usually just look at them with a blank stare and walk off. I don't get up every night, but the night I have to...I have to...and they end up being long ones. Wonderful post Reyna!

muffinmoon said...

I've just welled up reading this. Not for pity for me or any of us D-parents but to read those words and know the truth of them, to feel the connection with you and all the others. Thanks for being you and writing so well.

Misty said...

Reyna I am so sorry that you (and Joe) had a bad night last night :( We DO adapt...because we have to. Love you and love your post.

Jules said...

I love this post. I totally agree the grief is magnified because there is no choice. A nurse said to us in ICU - you wouldnt wish diabetes on your worst enemy. I didnt know what she was talking abt on the night OF diagnosis. Its a daily grind but your words are encouraging. It WILL get better. Your Joe is one handsome handsome boy xx.

Anonymous said...

Such a beautifully written inspiring post. Sorry your little one had to be up all night dealing with highs. I am one who hates the highs far more than the lows, because I can stay on top of the lows. Highs take so long to come down. Did you try the Apidra yet? It's faster when it comes to corrections; quite a bit for us. A night like this is especially irksome after a week of dealing with the stomach bug, when you just don't have much more energy to give. I feel for you and that cute boy of yours. I hope this week is filled with nothing but fun, good numbers.... you guys have earned a break. Do something special for yourself and Joe this week.

Trev said...

Wow, I swear you were speaking to me, I know you weren't but wholly shit. I so needed to read your post. The grieving, the crying, feeling the responsiblity of giving my children the gene, and having no choice. I love them so much it hurts. I will, spend many more nights awake, and that is ok, it is my lot. I am okay with that. Thank-you on a personal note as well for your encouraging words.

Shannon@ The New Normal Life said...

what an amazing post and so wonderful! THANK YOU I needed it today! As always I love you girl

Laura @ Houston We Have A Problem! said...

So true - every word. It's hard at times but we carry on - it must be done! Love you, Reyna!

Tracy (The Crazy Pancreas) said...

Love this post, Reyna. We will definitely carry on, even when times get tough with T1, because we have to.

Love you!