The Mirror

As we walked side-by-side through the parking garage into the hospital yesterday, his 6' frame towering over me...he said 'I don't really even think about having diabetes except on Endo days and sometimes when I have to check a number.'

'Really?'

'Yeah'

He then went onto say something that briefly caused my eyes to sting.  He said, 'it's weird, but when I look in the mirror...I don't see my POD anymore.  I don't see the CGM.  I just see me.' 

When Joe thinks of himself, he says diabetes doesn't even enter his definition of who he is.

The Endo appointment went well.  Joe continues to do the majority of his care.  He is an active high school freshman and manages to juggle school, being an athlete, and managing diabetes successfully.  His A1C was 7.  A fine number considering his growth and his independence.

He turns 15 at the end of April.  We discussed his drivers permit with his endocrinologist.  You see, driving with diabetes adds another element of risk to just the act of driving.  People with t1d need Medical Clearance Paperwork, in order to get their driver's permit or license.  When Joe starts to drive, he should check a blood glucose prior to driving and every hour if he is driving for more than an hour's time.  He should not drive unless his blood glucose is 90mg/dL, or higher.  Driving low is more dangerous than driving inebriated.

I'm not sure how I am doing with all of this.  Actually, that's a lie.  I do know how I've been doing.  I've been fairly anxious.  High school has been more of an adjustment for me...than for him; I think.  I have had to back off as a hands-on pancreas and trust that I have taught him well.  I have.  Can I just say, at this age, sometimes having that damn Dexcom is a blessing and a curse all in one.  Watching his blood sugar remotely can cause my mascara-fringed eyeballs to bulge outta their orbits when his number is tanking to the 40's, while he is at school or at a hockey practice.  There isn't a darn thing I can do to help him.  I watch.  I wait.  I worry, then I hope and I trust things will be OK.

A day-in-the-life update.

The Solo Sleepover

And, there are times I write about the day-in-the-life to let you know you are not alone.  And, we did it!  We made it through some new situation alive, some-what happy, and with some sorta glucose stability.

Words like "trampoline park" and uh ... "sleepover"  scare the bejangels outta even the most seasoned of d'rents.  Well, I got to experience them both in the time span of less than 48 hours.  The trampoline park escapade was with a friend and his grandma; not with me and my watchful eyes.  The sleepover was an impromptu arrangement made at 8pm last night;  it was to occur at a home where I have not provided any education about t1d (and this is where hot fiery pokers repeatedly jabbed into my mascara fringed eyeballs sounded more enjoyable than enduring the anxiety that was about to ensue).

The trampoline park went well.  Joe consumed roughly 80 grams of carbohydrate for "free" and we reduced his basal by 40% for a couple of hours.  His blood glucose stayed safely in the low to mid-200s.

It was the sleepover where I really struggled.

Joe ran into the house last evening.  His voice was laced with hope, as he asked for permission to spend the night with a couple of friends.  It was the last night of his Spring Break.  The sleepover would be at a home where he would essentially be flying solo with his diabetes care.  Yes, he is independent, but it is reassuring to have a some sorta supervision over all the blood sugar checking, carb counting, bolusing, and equipment management; not-to-mention the whole sleeping thing.  Joe sleeps like the DEAD.  He does not wake up for Dexcom alarms.  Sometimes, he wakes up from a low. More often than not, I catch the low first and treat him while he sleeps.  Nights are scary for me, if I'm not there to help him.

I offered to let him stay at his friends until 10, until 11, until midnight.  Joe felt that defeated the point of a "sleepover".  He was right.  I know this much about diabetes... the psycho-social-emotional part of this disease can smother your spirit.  The over-dramatic struggle taking place in my brain looked something like this "let him go ... he most likely won't croak" and "don't let him go ... he may become a depressed, maladjusted mess of a person."  The struggle was real.

The question "would I let him do this if he did not have diabetes?" repeated and repeated in my thoughts.  The answer was, of course, a resounding "YES".  I needed to let him do this.

So, he did.  He slept over at his friends house.

The Dexcom Share was on through the night.

He texted me every couple of hours with his blood glucose until he was incommunicado, while he slept.  The Dexcom eased any concerns of demise, due to hypoglycemia.

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Anxiety, and over-coming it, is perhaps the main reason I write about our day-in-the-life.