Where has the time gone? He is starting high school in the fall. He's been living with, living well with t1d for like 11 years now. I've been typing away on this blog on and off over the course of 7 years.
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| Graduation from Middle School |
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| NIKE Woodchuck |
He wears a medical ID now; dog tags. It's a must as he traverses the community without me present. I expressed the importance of
having some sort of identification on him...you know, in case. It's
hard to phrase things like you might need help if you go so low that you
can't talk...a.k.a. you are unconscious or maybe having a seizure...So I just kinda mumble through those moments. He knows. He knows he may need help at some point. The ID is worn daily; no reminders needed.
Joe. Joe seems pretty typical to me. He is checking his blood sugar regularly. He boluses for snacks and meals. He doesn't appear uncomfortable with his diabetes-ness. His CGM and POD are on his arms. They are visible often. He performs his care in front of his peers. This is where I think an early diagnosis maybe has helped us; helped Joe. He knows no different. Having "something" has been his norm.
Me. I go from this elated feeling of 'WOW...he's a teenager and he's still doing pretty well with the daily grind of managing t1d.' My life has gone from micro-managing blood glucose levels, carb counting, bolusing, pump-site inserting, CGM inserting, blood sugar boosting 24/7 x 365. Now, I assist with CGM insertions only. Joe does the rest. Occasionally, I check in on his self care with a "what's your number?" or a "did you bolus?". I am pleasantly surprised by his response to a "how many carbs are you counting that as?" and his reply is within 5 grams of my calculation. There is a huge relief in all of this. He can participate in sports, solo, with minor d'-sasters here and there; these are learning experiences. Each season he becomes better and better at handling the rigors of t1d and activity. I say all of these things and then it sneaks in; the fear. Fear of nights, of driving, of college. Eleven years ago, when he was 3, I couldn't imagine us here. He is thriving. This is what I hold onto as I look forward to the next several years.
A day-in-the-life of hope...confidence that Joe will grow up happy and healthy and live a long life.
A day-in-the-life of hope...confidence that Joe will grow up happy and healthy and live a long life.
4 comments:
Hi Reyna,
father of a ten years old T1 son here. I have been following your blog since his diagnosis (it will be 7 years in December) and finally decided it was time to say hi. Actually, your page was the first I found when I looked for blogs of other parents of T1's. Your Joe is just a few years ahead of my son, and so I have been always projecting your experiences into our future, to have an idea of what to expect next. This is just to say that it's been a great help, and still is. Your hope, and confidence, became mine as well. Thanks a lot.
P.S.: We do have a "woodchuck"! It is called a "frog" (though it does not resemble a frog at all, at least not at the moment) for reasons that it's too complicated to explain here.
Hi Francesco! This comment means the world to me. Sometimes I write out my anxieties sometimes there are just great stories to be told...sometimes I wanna feel understood... and sometimes I hope that we let others know it's gonna be ok (hopefully).
It's ok about your 🐸. Ours doesn't resemble a woodchuck 😃.
Your sharing has always made me feel like our lives are more normal. I am in awe of Joe and know that someday Isaac will be there, too. At 9 years old we are still needing a lot of help, he just had a horrible virus and the reminder of how different it is for those without type 1 d is so evident during illness. Anyhow, I am returning to work full time in the fall...for the first time EVER and I am so nervous. It feels like another step towards the right direction in independence.
Just wanted to pop on and say thanks for sharing your little tidbits of life with an incredible boy living with type 1 :)
Teenager... How is that possible? Where has the time gone?
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