In"D"pendence

Essentially I send my kid out into the world daily hooked up to a hormone that can kill him. Yep. It is true. I don't think many people "get" that. Managing type 1 diabetes is tenuous. Balancing activity, carbohydrates, and the hormone insulin is the nuts and bolts of the matter. It is difficult at best. The balance of blood sugar numbers is not easily achieved in an active, growing child. Perhaps just as challenging is balancing "safety" while my type 1 child, Joe matures.

It was a first, the above text. Joe sent it to me from my mother-in-law's phone. She was watching him while I ran out to the store.

Times are changing.

This year the calls from school are from him, not from the School Nurse.

Each and every call to my cell phone is initiated with a whispery-question-y, subdued Joe voice "Ah... ... mom?" (who does he think is gonna answer?) "I am 72, double down ... should I do a combo bolus heading into lunch?" "I am 45, I was 42 before that ... I think we should turn down the basal..." "MOM!!!" (frustrated) "you don't understand... it is a Substitute Nurse ... she cannot help me with the Beef Taco carb count!"

Times are changing.

He asks to run across the street to play with friends. <*GASP*> Inside their homes even. He checks his blood sugar first. He lets me know where he is at "number-wise". He takes sugar according to his IOB and Dexter arrows. He consults with me, sure. I usually respond to any questions with "what do you think you should do Joe?" Many times he is spot-on. He is excellent at considering possible activity. He is getting better at recognizing the impact of IOB. Once in awhile, I will mention a combo bolus or a temp basal as a suggested action as well. He knows the implications of a bad lows and will boost, boost, boost to avoid them. He does not seem too concerned about highs and does not report them to me. He thinks he is "good-to-go" with numbers in the 200's, even in the 300's, and will head across the street care-free without a word to me.

As he becomes more independent, I notice that we tend to run him a bit higher; we run him a bit higher for "safety-sake". Times are changing. And. With the changing of times, Joe's last A1C bumped up a bit. And. With the changing of times, there are more people involved in Joe's management ... namely, Joe. As with everything else that requires balancing in diabetes care, the carbs, the activity, the insulin; the transference of care, the evolving independence demands balance and careful attention too. During Joe's last Endocrinology appointment, his doctor cautioned me about Joe's independence level with his diabetes care. A "let the reins out gradually ... and ever so slowly" approach was encouraged. Makes sense. Wish me luck.

A day-in-the-life of raising a child with type 1 diabetes.

Confidence

The following happened yesterday afternoon, after school. The interaction took place between Joe and one of his oldest and dearest friends. Children, and adults for that matter, can say things out of anger and frustration.


The snow was falling, heavy and wet. Joe was playing with a group of friends in the distance. I approached with Woodchuck. After school lows have been a frequent companion lately. A quick check confirmed it. 68. A juice was spiked and dispensed. Joe knocked it back.

I then gently probed him about a disagreement that he had just had with his friend.

"He was being mean to me mom. I told him that if he kept acting like that he would not have any friends. THEN. He said to me that if I still had diabetes when I was an adult I would not have any friends."

I wasn't really interested in the "he said-he said" business of the incident. There was only one thing I wanted to be sure of...

Before I walked off to leave him with his pals, I casually asked ... not wanting to make a big deal of the situation ... "Joe, you know that is not true?... right? ... diabetes will not make people not like you."

In an authentic, upbeat voice, Joe said "Of course not mom. Diabetes makes me even cooler. I'll always have friends."

I walked away. My heart was light.

A day-in-the-life of confidence despite diabetes, perhaps ... dare I say it? ... enhanced by it.

The "Double Low"

"I feeel soooooooo terrrrrrrrrrrible."

I could tell he was low by the way the "e's", the "o's", and the "r's" were drawn out and by the tone and pitch of his voice. It was 1:28am. Joe was stumbling into my room and climbing on top of me as I woke to his entrance. I released myself from the heap of Joe and hurried to his room to grab the glucometer.

He was moaning, saying it was a "bad one".

He was 50. The low was treated. Afterwards, Joe did not want to leave my bed. "My body won't work". I offered to carry him back to his bed, but the thought of that made him just groan and roll-over. He was on my side of the bed. I retreated to the guest room. Another alarm was set for 2am. Another alarm was set to ensure his blood sugar was in a safe range.

When he woke the following morning...

"That was a bad one mom; not a normal low. I don't get them often. But when I do ... I feel like I am a 20-something. That was what I call a double low."

I questioned, "A double low?"

"Yep, that is what I call those. I have only had a couple, but they are the really terrible, awful ones."

A day-in-the-life of understanding diabetes through my son's perspective.