Sunday, February 28, 2010

The "S" Word

As adults, we find ourselves saying words that aren't really a big deal, when coming out of the mouths of adults.

"This outfit looks like crap on me" or "Shut up! That is TOO funny!" or "Trust me, I felt SO stupid!" or "Eww--I HATE anchovies!"

But as you have children, and you continue to say these "bad" words, you realize that out of all the thousands of words your child hears everyday, they will only repeat the things that you DON'T want them to repeat, and words that sound rather inappropriate coming out of a child's mouth.

I'll never forget when Maddie was in her "Terrible Two's" (before she was diagnosed) she picked up on our (incidentally, I place equal blame on my husband) use of these "bad" words, which were only ever used in a casual, non-threatening way.

"I hate my hair! Please tell me if it looks stupid!"

"Can you believe I put on 2 different socks?!? I just realized how stupid it looks. The lighting in this closet is so crappy!"

"I can't get this stupid can opener to work!!!" (Can I get an Amen on that one ladies? Does anyone REALLY have a can opener that actually works??)

Anyhoo, we learned very quickly that stupid, crap, hate, and shut up, although mostly used in jest, and not EVER used to hurt anyone's feelings, or to be mean, were words that we could not say in front of Maddie.

Fast forward 7 years and 2 more children, and still, I feel a sense of sudden regret when I slice my finger open, and let a "crap" slip, or see an advertisement for a pole dancing exercise DVD on TV, and say that it's "stupid" under my breath, only to be reminded by my 5 year old that "Ooooh--mama said a bad word!" knowing good and well that those will be the first 6 words out of his mouth when my husband gets home, or as soon as he walks into my parents' house for a visit.

Embarrassed, I always explain that while it IS a "bad" word, sometimes grown-ups use it, but not in a mean way, and when he is 35, he can use those words as much as he'd like. But not before then.

One morning recently, after we had been up all night checking blood and ketones, and eventually changing her site, Maddie and I, both VERY tired from the night before, were working on her schoolwork. The house was quiet, she was almost through, and she stopped and put her pencil down.

As we both happened to yawn at the same time, she said, "Mama, can I say a bad word?"

"Um....". What is the correct answer to that question?!?

"Just this one time while Reilly and Brendan aren't around."

Stunned, and before I could answer, she screamed, "Diabetes is STUPID, and I HATE it! It's nothing but CRAP!" And then she just looked at me, waiting fir my reaction.

After blurting out all of those obscenities, she still looked tired, but she had a slight sense of relief on her sweet little face. I have to admit, those words do sound far worse coming out of a sweet little 9 year-old, innocent mouth.

She sheepishly waited for me to scowl, or to reprimand her.

After all, she was simply stating the truth about something that we have to fight every day. Something that rules her life and interrupts everything she does. Something that NOT ONE of her friends has to deal with. Something that makes her different. Something that is unfair and tries to defeat her every minute of the day.

So obviously, I smiled wide, and proudly said, "Maddie, I couldn't agree with you more!"

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Saturday, February 13, 2010

Incoherence and Adrenaline

Maddie had a fun filled evening with a friend, then attended a basketball game with my husband and Reilly.  When they got home, she checked her blood, and went to bed.  I don't know what it was because my husband had handled it.  The kids all went to bed at 10:00.  It's snowing outside, and I know that we aren't going to be able to go anywhere for the next day or two, so I didn't care that they were getting in bed so late.

Everything's fine.  The kids are asleep, Shawn is asleep, (unfortunately he's a early to bed person, and I'm a night owl), so I took the opportunity to watch some chick flicks I had DVR'd.

At about midnight, I hear footsteps on the stairs.  I'm good at footsteps.  I know who it is by the sound.  Reilly comes down slowly, steadily and quietly, all the way thinking up some imaginary ailment for which he needs medicine or a band aid, or a drink.  He's quiet because he peeps around the corner at me, knowing I'm going to say, "Get back to bed!"

Maddie comes down with a rhythmic pattern, almost like she's skipping, but still quietly because she knows I'm going to say, "What in the world are you doing out of bed??"

Brendan half steps and half slides, plus he's usually carrying some sort of blanket, or stuffed animal. He isn't quiet at all.  He comes running around the corner as if to say, "Here I am!  Out of bed!  Let's play!"

Another way I can tell is because Reilly holds the hand railing, Brendan runs his hands along the wall, and Maddie doesn't hold on at all.

But these steps were different.  It wasn't Shawn, because I could hear him snoring like a jack hammer upstairs.  These feet would go a few steps, then stop, then go a few steps faster, then stop, again.

Maddie came stumbling around the corner with that sleepy look on her face.  She wasn't looking at me, but she was trying to talk.  She was mumbling and incoherent, and looking all around the room, except she wasn't looking at me.   She was actually looking at the couch on the opposite side of the living room. 

"I'm......I've got to......I don't know....You know.....  What's that thing called?  Where's Mama?"

At this point, I'm frozen in fear, wondering if my Snuggie was making me camouflaged with the couch, or if she really didn't know where I was, and didn't know what she was saying.

As the "where's mama" was coming out of her mouth, (I was the only one awake, the only one downstairs, and I was right in front of her) I flew off the couch, literally, and went straight for the emergency glucose gel.  Incidentally, it's supposed to taste like cake icing, but she and I opened a tube one time, and I have to say--they didn't exactly hit the "icing" nail on the head.

Usually we do glucose tablets, but I didn't have time for those.  I didn't want to grab the Glucogon, because my hands were shaking, and I was afraid that would take too long, plus, that's for when they're passed out completely.  The gel is supposed to dissolve in your gums if you aren't able to swallow it quickly enough.

I threw that child down on the couch and squirted that whole tube in her mouth.  It probably looked like I was trying to kill her.  The funny thing about Maddie is that normally, she would have been fighting me because it "didn't taste good", but I don't think she even knew what was going on.

She never closed her eyes, (thank goodness) but the eerie thing was that it was like she was a zombie, and she was looking straight through me.  She never acts like that, even when I check her at 2 am, when she's the sleepiest of sleepy..

After about 10 minutes, she started to perk up, and I could tell she was out of the danger zone.  It was at that point that I checked her blood.  I hadn't checked it before, because I didn't have time.  Plus, I don't think I want to know how low she was.  After 10 minutes of getting the 24 gram, rapid acting glucose gel into her, she was just 70.  I would venture to guess that she had been in the 30's or 40's, but like I said, I don't want to know..... 

So, I held her for a while, we chatted, (she didn't remember coming down the stairs), and she eventually got back to her normal funny self.  She told me about the game, and what she did at her friend's house, and some other normal things.  I felt good about sending her off to bed, knowing that I would check her in less than 2 hours.

So off she went, and I finished my chick flick, not really watching it, still kind of stunned, thinking about the "what ifs".  When I checked her at 2 a.m., she was 349.  Ok, ok, I know....  So I went a little overboard on the carbs, but she scared the fire out of me, and I kind of went into that weird mother/adrenaline mode.  Yeah, that's it.  I'm blaming it on the adrenaline.

But, I corrected her, took a little off, just in case, and as she smiled her sweet little smile that she does to me every night as I'm sticking her and squeezing whatever blood I can get out of her finger, she cracked a little joke, and then off to dreamland she went.

Now, I'll continue to lay in the bed wide awake, all night, still thinking about the "what ifs" and listening to the sweet sound of my husband snoring like an annoying pack of geese, 6 inches from my head, as he dreams the night away in total peace and comfort.


Saturday, February 6, 2010


Oh my gosh--I have the BEST blog friends EVER! I love you guys! What would I do without all of my fellow type1 mom bloggers? Thanks so much for the encouraging words! You brought a tear to my eye. {sniff, sniff}


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Friday, February 5, 2010

The Wretched Bug


A few weeks back, (it's a blur because my last 2 months have been filled with so many sick-kid days, that I can't remember quite when it was) Maddie somehow picked up the "top end" stomach bug, opposed to the "bottom end".  Both equally gross, but having a drama queen for a child, makes the top end just a tad bit more disgusting.

You see, Maddie thinks that she is suffocating when she's throwing up, so she tends to shake her head back and forth as she's vomiting.  (Picture a dog getting out of the water, and before you can get to him to dry him off with the designated "dog towel", he does that doggy-water-shake-off thing and gets water EVERYWHERE.)  She also forgets to put the seat up, which leaves more square inches to contaminate.  But honestly, the seat really isn't a big deal, when you're sanitizing the entire toilet, floor, bathroom counter AND cabinets, in addition to all 4 bathroom walls.   

Now, not only do I try desperately to get her to the bathroom in time, get the seat up, keep out of the line of fire, keep my 3 and 5 year-old boys from watching in awe, but I'm also trying to hold back her loooong hair, as any good mom should.  *For the record, men just don't understand the importance of the holding-back of the hair.  My poor husband, who has been married to and living with me for almost 14 years, will stand OUTSIDE the bathroom door, when I happen to catch a bug, and yell, "You okay in there?"  Um, nooo!!  (To be read sarcastically, while rolling your eyes).

Anyway, this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of this fiasco.

I don't remember any exact numbers, but the night before, Maddie was a little high.  I corrected her, and she was just as high the next morning.  But, before I could suggest a site change, which is protocol for 2 high blood sugar readings in a row, after correction, that's when it all hit the fan.  Or the kitchen floor, if you want to be realistic.

Did you ever see "Cheaper By The Dozen" with Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt?  You know the part in the beginning when someone throws up, and it's a domino effect from then on for the next 10 minutes or so?  Well, for some reason, Shawn and Reilly (husband and 5 year-old) were standing right beside her, so as "it" was hitting the kitchen floor, (tile) it was splattering all over the legs of everyone and everything within 6 feet of her.  Fortunately, Brendan (3 year-old) was not nearby, but unfortunately, he didn't know what was going on, so while we were all frozen in fear and astonishment, he ran directly through it, and slid across the floor, smearing it all over the kitchen, laughing all the way.

In our attempt to get her to the bathroom, we were both slipping and sliding around, me barefooted, Shawn in his NEW WHITE tennis shoes, all while she was still vomiting and doing the head-shake thing.  Then we were torn--do we help the vomiting diabetic child, do we clean up the 150 square foot mess in the place where we eat, or do we clean off our legs, feet, hands, and everything else that got hit? 

As Shawn and I locked eyes, I could tell what he was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing.  Which job is worse?  To this day, I don't know the answer to that question, but as I dashed off, with a smirk on my face, to get the Swiffer Wet Jet in the garage (knowing good and well that Shawn had no idea where it was), I was yelling, "YOU BETTER HOLD HER HAIR BACK!!!"

Decisions, Decisions, Decisions.....

I have a bit of a problem on my hands.  If you've read any of my previous entries, you know that I thought long and hard, and decided to pull Maddie out of the wonderful Christian school she was in, in order to home school order to reduce her stress of being in a order to bring her A1C down.  As you may have read, everyone who should have been on my side was against me, but I did it anyway, for the benefit of my child.

It's worked, the A1C is slowly coming down, and Maddie is doing a great job at her work, and liking the curriculum that I chose.  I even went so far as to put her in some cool "home school" classes that a local group provides for kids to experience electives, be away from mom, etc.  (I know, I know, that last part defeats the purpose, but whatever......)

Lately, I've been getting flack about how I'm reducing stress now (and lowering the A1C) but when she does get to a point in her life that she experiences stress, whether it be going back to school, or just life in general, she will not be able to handle it, therefor making her A1C go up again.

Maybe I'm rambling, but I think that if I'm doing what is best for the health of my child RIGHT NOW, then I'm doing the right thing.  I'm realizing that indeed it was the stress of having other kids around, whether it be distractions, or competition with grades, tests, etc.  I've learned a lot about her since we've started homeschooling, and I feel like I'm doing the right thing for her, right now. 

Should I worry about "later" now?  Or should I concentrate on "now" now?  Or should I just do what I think is best for my diabetic child?  I mean, it's not like I'm her mother or anything, or in charge of her entire well being, or the primary care taker of this stupid thing we call diabetes.  Oh, wait--YES I AM.



Those are HILARIOUS!!!!!  The fridge?  Your hair?  So funny!!!  Isn't it funny how we haven't even ever seen each other (besides our blogs) and we have such silly things in common?  I love it!!  I know it was a crazy blog entry, but thanks for answering.  I guess I have too much time on my hands.  : )


Ok, type 1 moms. I have a funny question. Where is the strangest place you've found a testing strip? Please answer as a comment. I'd love to hear! One time, upon putting on my pajamas, I found one in my bra. But today, I was changing my youngest's diaper, (just wet, not stinky) and there was a strip stuck to his bottom. Now, in his defense, it had probably gotten there from the night before, sometime between drying off from the bath, and applying the clean diaper. I'm sure there are some other funny stories out there~ I'd love to hear them!!

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