UPDATES UPDATES UPDATES

Oh my goodness, where do I begin?  Yes, I did indeed fall off the face of the earth for a while, but behold, we are back with lots and lots to say. 

Maddie is growing into a wonderful teenager, full of live and vitality.  Diabetes cannot stop her!  She got through the tween and very early teen  years and we all survived....barely. :)  She is now approaching 15 and is a freshman in high school.  WHAT?!?  Yes, she will be driving in the near distant future.  Why can't we just stop time and keep them little?!?

Something that has become a big deal around our house is running.  Maddie knows that in order to stay healthy as she gets older, she has to exercise and eat well.  She has become a member of the varsity cross country team at her school.  She just competed in her first meet the other day, and might I say that she did exceptionally well for a 14 year old newcomer to the team and WITH DIABETES.  She checks her blood sugar and makes sure that she has glucose tablets within grabbing distance, just in case she gets low.  Her school nurse, athletic trainer and coach are on top of it with making sure she is okay to run each day/practice/meet.  She stays hydrated and makes sure that she is ready to go by the end of the school day.  I am so immensely proud of her.

One little accomplishment at a time is very satisfying when you are trying to train someone to be responsible for their own health.  I still have to remind her to check and correct after meals and a LOT on the weekends, but she is showing her true independence by taking care of herself and her diabetes while running a 5k every single day.  I'd say that deserves a little pat on the back.      

Buahahahaha......
SOOOO TRUE!!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

EOGs

I am not a good test-taker.  Unfortunately, I've passed this wonderful trait onto Maddie.  Last year was her first year back in school after being home schooled for 2 years.  It was 5th grade, so it wasn't very difficult for her to pass her EOGs.

This year, she was in a school that is JUST the 6th grade.  The teachers are wonderful, she was well taken care of, and the school year has been a great one for her.  I am confidant that she will do well on her tests this year.

But I'm wondering as the school years get harder and harder, if she'll have problems with her blood sugar before a test being elevated, therefor influencing her test results.  Whenever she is preparing for a trip or an important event, she gets crazy from anxiety and anticipation (who doesn't) and her sugars sky rocket.  Never fails.  I know there are things I can do as a mom to make it easier on her, such as getting permission to take the test in a manner that is more suitable for someone who's state is altered by anxiety/anticipation.  Aren't there laws about that? That's a good question for our Endo.

The problem is that Maddie gets embarrassed easily, and the biggest deal is being embarrassed about something that has to do with her blood sugar, insulin, pump, etc.  Being embarrassed ALSO makes her blood sugar sky rocket.  I'm not sure if it would be better to take her out of the classroom, or leave her in.  I'm not sure which scenario would be better in her mind.  So, really, there's no way to win in this situation. I'm curious as to what other moms do in these situations.  How do you handle tests, and times when blood sugar will be a factor in your child's performance for something so important as an end of grade test?

I guess it's a good thing for Maddie that I haven't had to worry about this up until this point in time.  But I guess it's a bad thing that I don't know the answers to these questions....

OK, I'm off to google this stuff......

The Art of Forgetfulness

 Maddie is a talented girl.  I am often amazed at the things that she knows, and is capable of doing, and doing well, at the age of 12. Among other things, she is smart, witty, and super funny. She has a hint of sarcasm, but fortunately, she only uses it in humorous situations.  Oh, and most importantly, she has an impeccable memory....when it has to do with ANYTHING besides her diabetes.  With that, she is struck with an early onset severe memory disorder. 

"Did you check your blood sugar before lunch?"

"Ooohhhh...I forgot."

"Did you correct for your spaghetti like I asked you to?"

"Oops--I forgot."

"Don't forget to correct for that snack!"

{Hours later} "Uh oh....I forgot."

"Your blood sugar is a little too high right now.  Save that candy for when it comes down."

"Aww man--I forgot!"

I thought this kind of memory loss is supposed to be saved for women after they've had children.  I understand that she hates that she has to always deal with this stupid diabetes, but I would think that it would be automatic by this point.

It's weird--she can't remember anything that has to do with diabetes and carbs and insulin, but she doesn't seem to forget where her iPod is, or how much chore money she's owed, or that last Friday I told her I would get her favorite snack at the grocery store next time I went, or that I told her she could occasionally stay up until 11pm on some school nights (whaaaat?!?) or that 5 weeks ago, I promised her that I'd take her to Aeropostale at 2:30pm next Saturday (really?).....

Some Updated Pics

My girl on the first day of Middle School~





Shopping for some healthy stuff~






Happy 12th Birthday! (last October)






Snapshot at the Endo's office. Gotta love a girl that can pose anywhere...even the restroom... Incidentally, this was after we found out her A1C had come down a lot, hence the huge grin.






One of the things that Maddie L.O.V.E.S to do!! (This was taken when she was walking Coco back to the barn after a hard lesson).

You Can Lead a Horse to Water....

I pride myself on being on top of Maddie's diabetes, for the most part. The only
times I'm not is when things are chaotic, I'm putting out fires, fixing or
cleaning up from a meal, and she runs off to her room. (Another time I'm not on
top of it is when she goes somewhere without me, Shawn or my mom, all the while
PROMISING to check her blood sugar, and correct for it, and for her food.) But
I'd say that 95% of the time, I'm on top of it.

So now that she's 12, and thinks she's 25, our conversations go something like
this:

"Maddie- correct for your blood sugar, and bolus for 60 carbs."

{Silence}

"Maddie! Correct for your blood sugar and 60 carbs!"

"Ok."

{30 seconds go by....}

"Did you correct?"

"I'm getting ready to."

{30 more seconds go by....}

"Did you do it?"

"Mama, I'm really getting ready to!"

"Do it now."

{silence}

"Maddie, I'm waiting...."

"Ok. Correct for my blood sugar and 60 carbs" as she runs up the stairs.

"Don't forget!"

"I won't. I'm doing it now!"

Fast forward 2 hours.

"Maddie, did you correct?"

"Umm...."

"Check your blood sugar NOW!!"

At this point, she is usually very high, and you know how this story ends....

I wonder why I have to ask her to do it so MANY times, (the pump is attached to her body, so she doesn't have to go far to get it,) yet she forgets to correct. I know the years ahead are going to be hard, but I'm not sure I can handle the teenage years AND diabetes. I am trying to instill in her that SHE controls her diabetes and SHE controls her health, therefore SHE controls how she feels throughout the day.  I want her life to be "normal" and I absolutely hate that she has to deal with this stupid disease every hour of the day. 

Middle School

It's been a while since I've posted anything. I could say that "life has been busy" but isn't that true all the time?

Well, Maddie started middle school this year. The big 6th grade. Isn't that just the worst grade for everyone? Does anyone really ever say, "Wow...6th grade was the year for me. Those were the days...." I don't think so. Usually, those years are known as being the awkward years. The in-between years. Not fun, and usually not pretty.

Before the school year started, I called the school nurse to set up a time to meet with her and the core teachers.  (Just as a quick note--I did the same thing last year, when she was at the elementary school, and I met with the principal, the teacher, and the teacher's assistant.  Period.  That's IT. No nurse or PE teacher.)

I showed up for the meeting about 15 minutes early, and sat down in the huge classroom where we were supposed to meet--just the 5 of us.  In came the first core teacher, then the second core teacher, then the third core teacher, and finally the nurse.  Ok, so I think we're going to start.  Until her PE teacher marches in.  Oh--ok.  Good idea--the PE teacher needs to hear all of this.  Lo and behold--here comes the band teacher, and then the art teacher, then the librarian, (whom I learn is the diabetes "go to gal"). Then the teacher (that Maddie doesn't have) that is type 1 and wears a pump, then the Section 504 lady, then the substitute nurse, and finally, the principal.

Holy diabetes, Batman! I thought it was cool last year when we met in the shoebox size Principal's office at the elementary school with BOTH the teacher, and her assistant.  This was cray-cray!

So, here I am, with super-shy Maddie, sitting in front of 12 people I don't know, getting ready to make a corporate-like presentation. Yikes! But, I got through it.  They asked what seemed like hundreds of questions, and I answered them, along with about a dozen "what if" situations.  They told me what equipment they'd like to keep on hand at the school, and what they would do about her checking her blood inconspicuously.

I walked away that day very confident that she would be well taken care of.  This was about 4 months ago, and so far, so good. Maybe Hopefully This is going to be a great year!

Starting Over

This past summer, we made a very important decision.  Maddie decided that she wanted to go back to school.  Instead of going to the private school where she attended K-2nd grade, with a full-time nurse to keep a watchful eye on her, she went back to public school.  Back to having 25 kids in one class, back to me not knowing what or how much she's eating, back to a nurse being at the school ONE day per week, back to regular daily recess and PE sessions, and back to me worrying about her for approximately 5 hours of the day.

I honestly enjoyed homeschooling Maddie.  I can't guarantee that I was the best teacher in the world, but we had a really good time.  Unfortunately, I'm not one of these supermoms that I have come in contact with on a weekly basis over the last 2 years who have made it their life's work to educate their children.  I just did what I had to do at the time, and now I'm through with it.  When I started really thinking of all the "normal" fun things that she was going to miss out on by not being in a school setting, I started to feel guilty.  It doesn't have anything to do with her social skills, but more importantly, little things like chatting with her friends at lunch and recess, playing an informal game of kickball on the playground, field trips, Go Far, and the list goes on and on..... 

I had started thinking about checking into the school where the neighborhood kids attend.  I asked around (including people whose kids do not attend there) and found that it was in fact a great school--the best elementary school in the county.  I made a brief mention of "going back to school" to Maddie, and she was all over it.  All it took was one tour of the school, and she was hooked.

Then came the logistics.

"Maddie, you HAVE to remember to check your blood."

"Maddie, you have to speak up when you are feeling low, or are high."

"Maddie, you have to call me if your site needs to be changed."

"Maddie, you have to remember to give yourself insulin when you're through eating lunch."

"Maddie?  Maddie?  Maddie, are you listening to me?!?"

Then it came time to talk to the teachers, principal, and nurse about diabetes.  They are so very sweet.  I laid everything out very simply and neatly, and they took notes, and asked questions, but they have never had a diabetic child at the school before, so I still worry.  I was surprised to find that they were all attending a Type 1 seminar before school started, but I'm not sure how much information they were expected to retain--sometimes things like that are very overwhelming.  I do believe that if there is a question about anything, they will not hesitate to call me.

So, now we've been in school for over a week, and I have to say, she LOVES it.  Every day there's a new friend.  Every day, something hilarious happens in class.  Every day, they do some crazy-fun experiment or game.  Every day is better than the day before.  But still, every day I worry about her blood sugar.  But at least I know she's having a great time and enjoying herself, and that they're taking good care of her....every day. 

Should I, or Shouldn't I?

Every time I see a child who has to use the bathroom constantly, I always think, "I bet she has diabetes, and they need to get her checked....." But I'm not bold enough to go up to the parent and scare the living daylights out of them.

Although, I would have appreciated it if someone would have said, "Your daughter is almost 6 years old and wearing a size 2T. And she's wetting the bed, when she's never done that, even when she was potty training. And she drinks constantly, and goes to the bathroom constantly. And her eyes are sort of sunken in. You should probably get her checked for diabetes."

There's a little girl on Reilly's soccer team that is 4 years old, and has to go to the bathroom probably every 10 minutes. I know this because my husband coaches the team, and she'll run off the field, mid game, and have to run to the port-a-john, leaving him wondering why they are 1 kid short on the field.

Last Saturday, as I watched her go back and forth and back and forth with her mom, I almost suggested that they get her checked for diabetes. Or better yet, say, "I've got a glucometer in my purse--let me check her blood sugar, and give you a heart attack at the same time!"

But, I didn't. And for the rest of the day, I couldn't help but wonder if she really does have it, and should I have suggested it to her parents.

I mean, come on--if anyone knows the signs of high blood sugar, it's the mother of a diabetic, right? I'm not sure what to do next Saturday. I wouldn't want this family to find out in an emergency room, or get a phone call that the little girl has passed out at school. But I also don't want to blurt out, "I'LL BET SHE HAS DIABETES--AN AWFUL DISEASE THAT SHE'LL HAVE FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE--AND ALSO ONE THAT WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE VERY DIFFICULT! YOU SHOULD HAVE HER CHECKED FOR IT!"

I'm always quick to tell my friends and acquaintances what Maddie's symptoms were, just in case their child may show symptoms, and maybe they should get them checked. The sooner the better is what I believe. It's better than getting a shocking phone call, right?

Hhmmm.....what to do....what to do.....

Oh No--I'm Bleeding!!

I look tired all the time. This would be because I stay up until around 2 am, in order to check Maddie as late as I possible can, (hence the LATE night blog entries).

I do this for 2 reasons-- 1) I don't trust that the blood sugar reading before bed was on it's way up, or on it's way down, therefore causing her to crash in the middle of the night, and 2) I don't trust Maddie's pump. I spent 2 years controlling the insulin through shots, and now that I don't have to do that, I can't believe that a little $7,000 pump can figure out what my brain has been trained to do.

Anyway, every night, I go into her room and do the same routine. Every night. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. I always scoot her skinny legs out of the way, set her meter on her little tummy, watching it rise and fall as she breathes, then I put the strip in the meter, get the lancet ready, get her ring finger (because that the one SHE uses the least throughout the day,) and then stick her and put her blood on the strip.

As I wait for the reading, which takes about 4 or 5 seconds, I'll wipe off her blood so that she doesn't accidentally get it on her bedding while she sleeps. Then I either correct her, or give her tablets, or hopefully do nothing, and leave her room.

At this point, I always go straight into my bathroom and wash my face and brush my teeth. But the funny thing is, that almost every night, I have blood on either my first finger, or my thumb, depending on which way I was balancing the meter while I was wiping off her finger. And almost every night seeing the dried blood on my hand startles me.

I don't know why I do this--I do it almost every night. I'm not afraid of blood, or anything like that, it's just that as an adult, if I'm ever bleeding, I usually know about it. But EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, it's there, and it always startles me. My first reaction is always, "Oh no! I've got blood on my hand! What have I done to myself?" Then almost immediately I realize that it's Maddie's blood, and I wash my hands.

It's become a habit that as I wash my hands, almost every night, at 2:00 in the morning, I think to myself that it's sad that I've got my daughter's blood on my hands almost every night. That should not be allowed. I shouldn't have to poke and prod my child to draw blood as she sleeps. No one should have to do that. It's just not fair. Just another reason that I hate diabetes.....

The Dreaded Appointment

Every other month we see our endo, and on the way there, I dread finding out what Maddie's A1C is. This time was no different. Alas, the A1C machine (don't know what it's called) beeped, so I asked. She had gone from 8.5 to 8.7. Although I was glad she wasn't in the 9's, going UP was not the direction that I was hoping to have gone.

I allow Maddie to be a little higher at night, or I don't give her the complete correction, because I have this eminent fear that she will crash during the night, and not wake up. Because whatever the number is, I don't know if it's going up, or down at a rapid pace.  (We do not have the CGM at this point in time.) This is my problem--she's too high during the night and first thing in the morning. And it's all my fault. I've come to grips with this. I take full responsibility.

I HATE DEALING WITH THIS STUPID DISEASE.

In addition to screwing up her A1C, her height and weight has gone from the 50th percentile, to the 25th percentile over the last year. Yeah, I know--I'm such a great mom.....not. My child is shrinking. Well, actually, she's not shrinking, she's just not growing.

I HATE DIABETES!!!

"But she's picky!" and "She isn't hungry much of the time!" and "She eats healthy food MOST of the time, so she's probably not getting enough calories!" These were my ignorant and useless justifications for my reprimanding from the doctor. Basically, she's not eating ENOUGH, therefor, not getting enough insulin. Could this be any more difficult to grasp in my little blonde brain?

Everytime I read other type 1 moms' blogs, I learn something new--like how the humidity can alter blood sugars, or how allergies to pollen can send you through the roof. Will I ever get the hang of this? I mean, come on, people--you would think that after almost 5 years, I would have gotten the hang of this by now.

Nope. Did I mention that I hate this stupid disease?

Reilly

When Maddie was diagnosed, she was almost 6, and being that her birthday is 10 days apart from her little brother's birthday, Reilly was almost 2.  He doesn't remember the wretched summer that she was diagnosed.  He doesn't really understand a lot about diabetes, but he knows that it's a serious thing in our family.

For a long time, he called it "beetees" and he knew that beetees hurt his Sissy, and that we don't like beetees, and that when you have beetees, you have to go to the doctor more times, get more shots, give more blood, and a whole lot of other scary things.

Over time, and after hearing us openly discuss the importance of Maddie's blood sugar, insulin, food, pump, exercise, and overall health, he's come to understand a little bit more about it....well, as much as a 5, almost 6 year old without diabetes can understand.....or so I thought. 

They play a lot together at home, so he has learned to be patient when it comes to waiting for her to check her blood, or waiting for her to give herself her insulin, or waiting while she gets her site changed.  He just knows that it's something that she has to do, and she can resume playing as soon as she's through with whatever it is that she needs to do.

Today, we were riding in the car, and as usual, we were in a rush.  And as any other frazzled mom would do, I drove through the McDonald's drive thru to feed my kids their lunch.  There is one very important thing here that I need to state in my defense.  Upon eating the entire contents of a happy meal, although nutritionally it's horrible for her to eat, I know the exact number of carbs she's putting into her body.

**For the record, I prefer Chick-Fil-A, but unfortunately, it's not on my way home.

Yes, I know that it is not real chicken, and everything is fried, and that essentially it's total crap, but nonetheless, I know the exact number of carbs that she's eating.

As we drove, she and I went through the whole song and dance, which goes a little something like this:

"Maddie, did you check your blood?"

"Yes."

"What were you?"

"127."

"Did you eat all your nuggets?"

"Yes."

"Did you eat all your fries?"

"Yes."

"Even the ones in the bottom of the box?"

"Yes, mama."

Then I tell her to give herself insulin for the correct number of carbs, according to the nutritional labels inside McDonald's, on the Happy Meal box, and on my nifty little iPhone app, in which I know ALL nutritional information of a bazillion food items at a bazillion different restaurants all over the USA.  And fortunately, it's correct every time.  She's never high afterward.....usually..... 

Anyhoo, my point to all of this is that after hearing us discuss this over and over, and after hearing us talk about diabetes at home, at church, at school, and after many explanations, I assumed that her brothers (to an extent) were as familiar with this disease as we are, in an age appropriate way, of course.  Honestly, I guess I had never thought about what they thought diabetes was, or how it "happened".    

The car was quiet, everyone was finishing up their fries and ready to tear open the almost-unopenable toy with their teeth, and I hear a little voice in the back of the car.  It was that of my sweet Reilly, my middle child, my almost-kindergartner, my rough and tough soccer player, and my one who gives some of the best kisses.

"Mama?"

"Yes?"

"I know you love Maddie, and I know you take good care of her, but could you PLEASE not give me beetees when I'm a big kid like her?"

All of a sudden, I realized that he knew NOTHING about diabetes.  Somehow, he thought that Shawn and I had "made" or "let" Maddie have diabetes.  He thought that we had given permission for this to happen to her, and that we may decide to let him or his brother have it, too.   

My heart broke into a thousand little pieces.  I don't even remember the drive home.  I didn't know what to say, or how to respond.  How could he think that I had control over this, and how could he think that I let Maddie have it?  Why would he think that?  Why would he think that I would do that to him?

After I gathered the pieces of myself that had been scattered by the words of a 5 year old, I thought about my response for just a minute.

"Reilly--Daddy and I didn't make Sissy get diabetes, and if I had been given a choice, I would NEVER have let her get it.  If I could, I would give anything in the world for her to NOT have it.  We wouldn't do that to any of our babies--you know that!  For some reason, God has allowed her to have diabetes, but it's okay, because we know that He is in control of it.  We don't know why now, and we'll never know why she has it.  But we are going to trust Him, and take good care of her so she stays healthy.  I don't think God wants you to have diabetes, although if He does someday, we'll know just how to take care of you.  But you know that no matter what, God is going to take care of all of us."

He didn't respond to my reply, and Maddie didn't chime in either.  Brendan, who is almost 3 and doesn't have much to say about anything, was also silent.  We drove the rest of the way home without a word.

I don't think Reilly was asking me that so that he could be selfishly assured that he was in the clear.  I don't even think that he even cared about my long and drawn out answer to his question.  Actually, I don't think anyone was even listening to what I was saying.  Unfortunately for me, that happens often in my family. 

I, however, was listening to the words that were coming out of my mouth.  I don't even think that they came from MY blond head.  I think it was just God's way of reminding me (yet again) that, not me, but He is in control of everything.

 My Reilly

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!"


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

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.

 

Survey

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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Whew

So sorry, fellow blog followers.  November and December have been very busy months.  As far as numbers, Maddie's been up and down, but her A1C went from 8.5 to 8.3 in 3 months.  That's a start.  I wish it were back to 7.9 when she started 2nd grade, but I'll take anything that's headed downward.  I'll start back up with my much needed and much loved blog time as soon as our schedules get back to normal, and Shawn and Reilly go back to school.  At least that's my intention....
: )

To All Of My Type1-Mom-Blog Friends

Last night went smoothly.  Maddie was 147 when she went to bed.  BUT, I think that whatever sugary substance it was that she inhaled the night before, must have taken a longer time to smack us in the face.  She woke up at 400ish, and yes, the lovely TRACE to SMALL ketones.  Don't you just love 'em?? 

So, after I washed the urine off of my hands, I stuffed bottled waters, ketone strips, glucose tablets (just in case we went overboard on the insulin) and all of those other lovely things in her bag, and off we went to church, ketones and all.

Thankfully, after lunch, everything was back to normal, numbers were down, ketones were gone, life was great.

And then my lovely husband announces, "Whoever eats all of their lunch gets some candy!!"

Men......they mean well.....

*sigh*  Here we go again.....

Here Come the Ketones

Right now, as I type, Maddie, the cat is gathering more and more candy from our Fall Festival.  She and her 2 brothers, Batman and Superman will bring home their 12 pound stashes, and momentarily, we will forget that we have diabetes.

There will be candy and empty wrappers all over the living room floor soon, and I will not be stealth enough to know or see who eats what.

Soooooo, this is going to be a long night of checking, rechecking, and checking blood sugar again, and maybe we'll even get a little ketone action in there.  That's always fun for me.  Maddie usually gets more urine on my hands than on the stick.  Good times, good times.... 

*Sigh* Halloween.......Can't live with it, CAN live without it......

Midnight Confessions

When Maddie was first diagnosed, she was on insulin shots, which meant I was in charge of her entire diabetes situation.  When a diabetic goes on an insulin pump, you relinquish control, and the pump takes over, deciding how much insulin to give you according to food and blood sugar, etc.  It has been difficult for me to give up this control to a tiny little purple device that runs on 1 AA battery.

One of my most favorite times of the day is when I check Maddie's blood sugar at 2am.  Everyone in the house is fast asleep, and I go into her room, sit on her bed, and check her blood.  If you've ever watched a child sleep, you know that it's the sweetest thing in the world.  Usually, Maddie isn't too low, so I don't wake her up, but she usually wakes up just enough to give me her finger and watch me as I stick her finger

But sometimes, I have to wake her up all the way to give her a few glucose tablets.  When I do this, I think it stuns her, and she gets a little crazy.  She'll finish a conversation she was having in her dreams, or she'll point to something that she was dreaming about, that in reality isn't there.  But sometimes, she wakes up all the way, and she'll say the sweetest, most random things.

Sometimes she'll tell me that she really enjoyed dinner.  Sometimes, she'll thank me for something I did months ago, or sometimes she'll tell me something really funny that she and Reilly did earlier in the evening.  And sometimes, she'll even tell me that I look beautiful, even though I know that I don't.  My mascara is under my eyes, instead of on my eyelashes, my hair is frizzy from chasing my boys around the house, and my pajamas have some sort of stain on them from whatever my 2 year old was eating before he went to bed.  But it always baffles me that even though it's probably really annoying that she gets woken up, she always seems to be the sweetest at that moment.

It is a burden to have to stay up until 2 am every night, but I am so thankful that I get to have those moments with her all by myself and get to hear her little voice, and see her sleepy little eyes.  That is my favorite part of the day.     

Bravery

When Maddie had just turned 2 years old, she fell off of a bed and broke her arm.  At the time, the nurses thought it was Nursemaid's Elbow, and tried several times to put it back in place.  Nope.  It was broken, and they were further torturing my child.  Maddie endured an all-nighter in the ER, x-rays, and the putting on of, and removal of (with a saw) a cast, all around the age of 2. 

When she was 4, Maddie was diagnosed with amblyopia, which is when your vision isn't the same in both eyes, so they have to correct the "bad" eye so that your brain doesn't train itself not to use it.  My tiny little 4 year old girl had to endure a rigorous ophthalmology appointment, then get glasses (but fortunately no eye patch.....arghh), which at the time was devastating to me.  Now, not so much.

Anyhoo, Maddie has been put through the ringer as far as doctors and ailments were concerned.  She didn't visit the doctor without lots of screaming and gnashing of teeth until she was almost 4.  Fortunately, she was over that when she endured the whole diabetes thing.  But it never ceases to amaze me how brave she really is after all.

Keep in mind, her fingers are calloused from the repeated sticking to check her blood sugar.  Her backside is spotted from changing her pump site every 3 or 4 days.  She doesn't even wince when I shove a needle inside of a tiny plastic tube into her skin.  She is the bravest person I know.

Now, I've had my fair share of pain.  I've endured being smashed in a car by a Volkswagon Bus, breaking multiple bones and taking out the window with my head and elbow and leaving an 8 inch frankenstein scar down my leg.  I've broken multiple toes, I've had surgeries, and I've birthed 3 babies.  I have a high threshold for pain.  I can handle pretty much anything.

Last year, Maddie and I went to get our eyes checked.  A really good friend of mine is a CPOA at a huge ophthalmology office in town.  Because Maddie has had problems in the past with her eyes, she was a little worried about the appointment.  I knew it would be easier for her to get "checked" by Miss Lisa, than some stranger.  She got all the tests done, got drops in her eyes, and had her eyeballs poked and prodded. I could tell she was nervous, but, nonetheless, she didn't make a peep.   Then it was my turn.

I'll show Maddie how this is no big deal for me.  How she shouldn't be worried about the eye tests, or getting eye drops, or the wretched glaucoma test.  I haven't had many visits to the eye doctor, but how hard can this be?  What's a couple of puffs of air?  No biggie.....

On about the 5th try of trying to get me to keep my face in the contraption to get puffs of air in my eyes, my friend Lisa said, "We'll have to do the eye drops for the glaucoma test.  You keep moving your head before the puff of air shoots out."  I never said I didn't have a problem with anxiety.  I laughed a little, so that Maddie could see that no, it was still no big deal.

As Lisa was putting the drops in my eyes, she proceeded to tell me that they would numb my eyeballs because she was going to "tap" on my pupil with an instrument.  I don't know about you, but the thought of not being able to feel my eyeballs makes me a little woozy, not to mention the whole tapping thing with the instrument.

The next thing I remember was Lisa waking me up, trying to get me to drink a sugary drink.  Not only had I not handled my numb eyeballs, but I had passed out!  I looked over at Maddie and she was giggling.  She wasn't just giggling to herself, she was laughing at me!   

More recently, Maddie's endocrinologist nurse wanted us to try out a new lancet device.  (That's the thing that sticks your finger with a needle).  She claimed that it was supposed to hurt less, and she wanted ME to try it out to see.  I don't know what she was thinking, but whenever a sharp pointy thing goes into my skin at a high rate of speed, only to bring blood, it's going to hurt.

"Just try it, Marcie.  You'll see that it is much less painful than her regular lancet device."  Oh no.  She wants ME to stick my finger.  That's going to hurt!!!  And what makes her think I've tried the lancet device that she uses now??  Then it's going to hurt for 30 minutes and I have to act like it's not big deal.

OK, I had to put on a brave face for Maddie.  After all, she stuck her fingers every day, 6-8 times.  Surely, I'm not that much of a chicken that I can act like it doesn't hurt in front of my kid.

I brought that thing up to my shaking finger, and held my breath, ready to stick myself.  I looked over at Maddie, who was rolling her eyes, and I pressed the button.

"Ouch," I said calmly, but what I was thinking, "OOUUCCHH!!!!!".  As the nurse squeezed my finger to bring up what seemed like a gallon of blood, I was wondering if that had hurt any less than getting kicked in the stomach.  My finger was pulsing and red.  I was sweating, and feeling a little faint.  It only hurts for a second....what a crock--it was throbbing, and did for at least 20 minutes.  I don't remember what happened in the appointment after that, because I was seeing stars, and my finger was reeling in pain.

How can a person so young and so small endure this every day??  I don't know anyone braver than my girl.