Too Many "Special" Things?

A quiet, drawn out plea of "Stay .. with .. me .. mom." came from Joe.

"You want me to read some of our book?"

"Yea"

It was last night.

His blood sugar was a bad 39.  Not that there is a good 39, but the "bad" means he was really feeling the 39.  His eye lids were closed.  His lanky bod was twisted up in the covers, curled tight in my bed.  He was motionless.  At times it was difficult to tell if he was still "with me".    As I read "Catching Fire" aloud to him, I would check in with a ..."Joe, you ok?" every few paragraphs.

Yesterday afternoon he had attended a three hour birthday party.  The party included three hours of swimming with eight of his buddies. The swimming consisted of playing "King Of The Cheese"... basically this can be described as "King Of The Mountain"... but in the pool using an inflatable cheese as "the mountain."  There was freezy pop ingestion in the hot tub where Joe reported if you wanted the freezy pop to be less freezy, you just dipped the bottom tip of it down into the warm hot tub water.  Of course the party included a couple of pieces of ice cream cake and snacks.  His blood sugar was steady throughout the party (80s to 130s).

On the heels of the party, we decided to have dinner out as a family.  You know...stuff a normal family should be able to do.  Pasta Alfredo and a sundae was ordered and consumed by Joe.  Carbs were counted.  Boluses were dispensed, combo and regular.  Within and hour after dinner, Joe's above mentioned 39 was experienced.

Joe's original response to the 39 was regret over eating the pasta for dinner.  I reassured him that it was not his fault.  I explained that I over-bolused for his meal while underestimating his previous activity at the birthday party.

Here is where he got me.  It is here where I felt the sting of the unfairness of this damn disease.

"I guess we just did too many special things today ma." 

Too many special things?  Really!?  He went to a birthday party and then out to dinner.  These are things that all kids should be able to do without a second thought. 

A day-in-the-life of  childhood and Type 1 Diabetes.

Even On Parade Day...Every Day... It Is There...

I haven't done one of these posts in awhile. It is more of a "day-in-the-life" of what many may not notice or see. The underlying work of diabetes is lost on many. Around-the-clock it goes. It knows no breaks. It does not acknowledge holidays. Vacations are not an option.

I have become so accustomed to utilizing Dexter (Joe's Dexcom 7+ CGM) in managing activity and special events that I felt "blind" yesterday. You see, Dexter fell out Friday, after school. Joe did not want to have a new one put in. He wanted a little "Dexter Break". Fine by me. I get it. It, diabetes and it's entourage, is a load, physically and mentally.

Note: Yes, in hindsight a decreased basal would have been a good idea for our day. First off, I think the rogue-pizza-insulin-resistant-highs that were corrected all night long finally crashed. The insulin caught up to him. Also, I had no idea that he was going to go all Lithium Energizer Bunny on me.

5:09am ~ Joe wakes. His BG is 309. Chasing down pizza all night long sans Dexter was brutal for Dave. I am not comfortable cranking up the basal (as was recommended on the Pizza Sampler by Type 1 University), while Joe sleeps, unless I have the "back-up support" and peace of mind that Dexter provides me with. A correction dose of insulin is given.

7:08am ~ The pump is alarming for low insulin. A site change is done. BG is 104. Joe eats 28grams weight worth of Honey Nut Cheerios, 1/2 cup Milk, and 2 Gummi Vitamins. Carb total is 32 grams. Insulin is bolused.

9:07am ~ Joe is going to participate in our local Memorial Day Parade. We are getting ready to leave the house. Faces are painted. Red, White, and Blue is donned. His BG is 116. That is too low for that time of day and pre-parade. He will crash. He eats a chocolate graham cracker (11grams) for free.

Here is where I really start missing Dexter and am craving his presence for the remainder of the day.

9:48am ~ There are snacks at "bike/scooter decorating area". Joe would like to partake. Fine, I am no "carb-tight-wad". I have no clue where his number is and am nervous about a full bolus, but don't know how much he boosted-up from the chocolate graham cracker that he had 40 minutes prior. His BG was 72. He ate 30grams of carbs. I only bolused for 1/2 and plugged in the 72 BG into his pump so that a negative correction was also taken into consideration.

Here is the point in the day where Joe goes "ALL JOE" on me and ramps the activity up.

10:18am ~ Joe had been scootering NON-STOP with his pals while waiting for the parade to start. Up and down the dirt, puddle-laden road ... back-and-forth ... back-and-forth. Most parents would just think how wonderful it is that their child is so active. Me, I am thinking "For "goodness" Sake, he is going to bottom out mid-parade and I am gonna take a Shriner's Car up the bum as I am hunched over checking a Blood Sugar". The parade is getting started his BG was 128. He boosts with a juice (15grams).

11:21am ~ Post-parade-scootering BG was 87. Lucky for Joe, candy was being thrown into the crowd where we were hanging out and he boosted with it.

11:58am ~ Lunch. Still wishing for Dexter here. I would not re-check here normally, but I feel lost and blind. BG is 121. Joe eats a turkey sandwich and has a 1/2 cup of milk (40 grams of carb). I bolus for it all... I should not have.

1:45pm ~ Joe has been outside playing basketball and has been careening up and down the 'hood on his scooter. His BG is 55. 15 grams of carb are consumed.

2:09pm ~ Opening Day of our neighborhood pool! Oh Yippee (S-A-R-C-A-S-M)! Joe's BG is 78. Of course he wants to swim. He consumes another 8 grams of carb and his pump is removed. Dave takes the kids to the pool, while I do some yard-work.

3:01pm ~ Darn! They're back! Already. BG is 121. The pump is re-attached to Joe.

Here is where the day gets "real-interesting". Bridget decides that she and Joe are going to have their own parade up and down the street...just the two of them. She proceeds to apply a full face of paint. She is going for a "dog-like-look" and is carrying a slab of green tissue paper with Sharpie-d words stating "SAVE THE ANIMALS". Joe then proceeds with the paint and applies a clown-like look. It was a lot of paint. There was even "clumpage". So, face painted children ... Bridget on foot ... Joe on Rollerblades ... proceed their march/skate up and down the street looking like a freak-show. Soon into the "parade" it started raining. The tissue paper disintegrated. The kids came in slightly deflated over their foiled plans for calling attention to all the animals that need "saving".

Meanwhile...

P90X was being attempted by yours truly. Kempo-X. Kempo is a workout that has you throwing a ton of punches and kicks with "breaks" of running in place with your knees up and jumping jacks that go awry with some "airborne" action. Yes, you are "jacking" mid-air. It isn't as bad as it sounds. Of course, (insert heavily mascara fringed eye-roll here)Joe decided to participate. I was mid-workout. I asked if he felt "OK"? I know better. I should have had him "boost". I didn't. I was focused on finishing my workout. As he does with everything, Joe participated with vigor and determination.

5:34pm ~ Post P-90X, pre-dinner BG was 61. I go ahead and have him eat and hold off on bolusing for about 20 minutes. Bean Burritos were on the menu. (31 grams each, he ate 1 and a 1/2). I want to insert here my favorite tortillas are the Josephs Brand, Oat~Flax~Wheat. They are 11 grams of carb, but 6 grams (I believe) of fiber...only 5 net grams of carb for those of you that subtract fiber.

Joe's pump site fell off in the bath.

(*sigh*).

A new one was popped in. Dexter was re-inserted.

7:39pm ~Bed time BG was 112.

9:49pm ~ BG 185. Dexter was calibrated.

12:41am ~ BG 251. Insulin was given to correct.

A day-in-the-life of Joe's day-in-the-life even on Parade Day. Happy Memorial Day!

A NEW MEMBERSHIP: TO THE "MILE HIGH" CLUB

OK, if I am not mistaken the "Mile High Club" is for people to do "special" things while at cruising altitude on an airplane. Well guys, gang, gals, friends...guess what? I became an official "member" yesterday. I don't even know how many people are in this club; I cannot imagine too many belong yet. Maybe I'll be a "trend" setter.

You see, we flew from Burlington, Vermont yesterday to Spokane, Washington. We are currently in Idaho for my sister-in-law's WEDDING. Somewhere between Burlington and Chicago, I realized we were in BIG TROUBLE with Joe's Insulin Pump Site. He hadn't seen a number under 240 for like 10hours, no ketones yet, but I was DONE "limping" by with a less than stellar infusion site. I discuss the situation with a now hungry Joe.... explaining that we either need to do a correction shot for his previous blood glucose of 320, or that I need to put in a new pump site while in flight. Let's just say my little bundle of positivity and joy (S-A-R-C-A-S-M) was not DOWN with either plan. I gently coaxed a choice out of him... well actually I said he would not be able to EAT until I was able to inject insulin into his little beta-cell "deficient" bod. So, begrudgingly, he chose to have a new site placed while CAREENING THROUGH THE AIR.

The "removal" of the old site...

I ask Joe to lean forward so that I may disconnect his defunct, 300s-inducing, mom-pulling her hair out, extreme situation causing site. He obliges. I cannot see the actual site. I remove it using my sense of touch only...finding the edge of the IV 3000 (this is a thin, transparent dressing used to help "anchor" the site), and gently (ah, or not so much, there just isn't an easy way to get that off blindly while jet-setting through the sky)...tug the dressing off...and then I unclip the tubing from the site...phew-phase 1 complete.

Now on with the "equipment set-up"...

So, I am bent over in my less than spacious seat... to gather my supplies. I am like a circus performer, perhaps a juggler, or a tight rope artist, or a balancing act illusionist. Dear lord, how I managed all of the supplies in my seat, on my thighs, in my mouth, I will never to this day know, but somehow I did. I had insulin, alcohol wipes, an Inset (the part of the system that sticks into Joe), a cartridge (the portion of the system that houses the Insulin)...with the needle and the blue plunger rolling about, and the IV 3000 in my mouth, secured between my lips. I am ooohhh so carefully drawing up the insulin (I forgot to tell you I am also flying across country on Insulin fumes, well maybe not quite fumes, but I prefer to travel with 2 vials, but I only have one new vial for this trip and would have been DONE FOR if anything had happened to that precious vial of "life support"). Need-less-to-say I was extremely cognisant of where that vial was at all times and when I was done using it, I packed it right up. I loaded the cartridge, primed the tubing - I think it is here where the flight attendant came by and asked if I would like some coffee. Remember I have the IV 3000 in my mouth...so I give a polite shake of my head. I am thinking ... 'lady I am about to try to jab a needle in my kid's ass in less than optimal conditions...who has time for coffee?' I didn't really think that, but I was thinking - 'honestly, look at me, do I look like I have space for the coffee too in addition to the controlled chaos I have going on in my lap right now?' I mean where would I even put the damn coffee, right ?

So I am ready for the "procedure"...

I have Joe lean way over toward the window so that I can access his left cheek. Hind site is 20/20 folks and here is where I made my mistake... I .... and I am not sure how "I" being only one human with 2 hands and 10 digits performed all of these things at once. I somehow pulled down his shorts...and even held down the elastic waistband to expose his skin with my left hand for the remainder of the procedure, wiped the site with alcohol (oh also forgot to mention that we are short on IV Prep - so I am flying across country on Insulin fumes, IV Prep fumes...and also hairspray and mascara "fumes" - but that is for a different story)... OK this is actually where the "mistake" came in. I should have removed the backing from the Inset earlier on in the whole process...and the plastic needle cover too. I am now stuck with one hand holding down the waistband of the pant and one hand holding the inset that still has the backing and needle protector on. I somehow, with the hand holding the inset grab the end of the backing paper and kind of "jiggle" off the backing STRETCHING my fingers that are grasping the backing as far away from the hand that they are connected to by BONE, TENDONS, and LIGAMENTS, don't forget...to get this backing off...sure, it came off in a couple or a few pieces, but I managed. Then I pinched the needle cover between my thumb and pointer finger and kind of "flung" the inset loose from the plastic guard. OK - good to go....I POPPED the set in with ease after the fore mentioned minor issues that the plane environment and my lack of planning presented. Joe was a ROCK STAR for sure. The Blood Sugar Gods graced us with a nice 170 about an hour after the new site and correction.

YAY...

But...

Then...

I look across the aisle at my dear Bridget who looks PASTY, with TEARS in her eyes, stating that she doesn't feel too well. I toss the EMESIS BAG over to her and talk her through her motion sickness as we land. She too was a TROOPER and only lost her cookies once and then rallied for "leg two" of our journey.

Another story from the day-in-the-life...and yes, IT IS ALL TRUE.

BIRTHDAY PARTYS

Up at 4am...I was making myself some coffee and I looked on the counter and there was an invitation Joe had just received to a friend's birthday party...my mind went back over all the birthday parties I have attended with Joe over the years...wondering when will he be going to his first birthday party without me, his portable pancreas, in tow...

Lucky for Joe, he is a fairly likable character...and he seems to be invited to quite a few parties...this is great for him...but more like a nightmare for me...haha. Not only do I get to deal with the aftermath of high or low blood sugars following the onslaught of pizza, cake, ice cream, candy, etc that these parties serve, but I get to experience the whole "party"...with 4 year olds, 5 year olds, 6 year olds...usually boys! One party had ten 5 year old boys in an 800 square foot house...where there were enough toy guns to arm each young boy...it does not take much imagination to picture the chaos.

The funny thing is...I don't think this is too far off anymore...Joe going to a birthday party on his own. I am pondering the possibility. He is able to check his own blood sugar, he uses his pump to give himself insulin and he can read nutrition labels and is starting to carb count other foods as well. Kinda sad to think that I will be missing out on his friends birthday celebrations in the near future...