The Wounded Soldier...

Note: Usually I have plastic skate guards rink-side and sugar in my pocket ... and the glucometer right inside the garage door on the mudroom shelves. I have become a bit 'lax.

A few curses were smattering my thought feed as I was crawling through our mudroom and into our kitchen. I must have looked ridiculous and I was second guessing the amount of tri-tip and spicey pasta that I had consumed for supper. Hockey helmet and skates were donned. I was desperately trying to keep my blades from touching the slate and wood flooring. I was trying to protect my blade edges.

I was berating myself a bit. You would think I would always be prepared by now. It has been over five years since Joe's diagnosis. Five years of thinking and planning and anticipating lows. Five years of sugar stashing. Five years of being on a constant, slightly nagging state of alert. Five years of bullshit that is my shit because I am my son's pancreas. So, you would think I would have my "Joe~Skating~On~The~Backyard~Rink~While~I~Am~Skating~On~The~Backyard~Rink~Blood~Glucose~Chcking~System" initiated for the 2011/2012 skating season. Welp, I didn't. Hence the "double amputee...wounded soldier" crawl through my home, while helmeted accessorized by a cage nonetheless.

Blindly, my hands ferreted the kitchen island. Yep, there it was. The glucometer. I inched my way, on my belly, back through our home ... out the garage door ... and out to the rink. Joe skated over. The glucometer was readied. 5~4~3~2~1. A 247 was obtained.

"Your good to go Buddy ... not low ... let's get on with some one-on-one!"

A day-in-the-life of the behind the scenes in pancreating for my son Joe.

DESPITE Diabetes Monday: The Pictures Say It All

On the Monday's in which I am hurting for "material", I am going to post a picture, a video, or story about Joe (or his family) doing something DESPITE the presence of diabetes in his life/our lives. My hope is that these little "snippets" will provide hope and inspire the families of newly diagnosed children.

This past summer Joe learned to mow the lawn. His determination and will and drive is all that I see in these pictures. The pump, the CGM, the medical ID bracelet blend and meld into the periphery.

A day-in-the-life of growing up with diabetes.

How Long Has This Been Going On For?

Last night...

At 3:32 am....

I am awakened by the the bright glow of the hallway light flooding my room from the doorway, as Joe enters.

"Mom, can you cover me with a blanket? ... I just had a really bad dream..."

"Sure Buddy."

I got up. I followed Joe back to his room. I grabbed a blanket from his closet shelf and spread it over his lean little 8 year old body. I kissed his cherubic, dimpled cheek. I grabbed the glucometer and readied it for a blood sugar check. I lanced Joe's finger. The blood wicked up the test strip. 5-4-3-2-1. A 97 graced the screen. Dexter was showing a smooth trend-line. I picked up the Dex 4 container. Shook it a bit. Nothing. No sound. It was empty.

Joe then chimed in, "Oh, I just took the last glucose tab right when I woke up Mom ... Dexter was 71 with a diagonal down."

Too tired to process the information, I said goodnight and headed back to sleep.

This morning I addressed it. Apparently, Joe has been taking glucose tabs when he feels low in the middle of the night. He is not waking us up when he feels low. He reads Dexter and "boosts" accordingly. While I am encouraged by his independence and his diligence in avoiding lows, I am a bit concerned that he has not been letting me know that he is feeling low. And. His pump settings may be off a bit due to the fact that I have not been aware of his "nocturnal boosting". Great. I am livin' the dream folks...livin' the dream.

A day-in-the-life of reigning in Joe's evolving independence.