My Love/Hate Relationship

We live very modestly.  Other people that I know have new cars, huge houses, beautiful brand new furniture, shopping sprees every weekend, and lots and lots of stuff. They send messages out on Facebook asking for references for housekeepers. They go on date nights with their spouses, hire $20/hour babysitters, go on extravagant vacations, fly here, fly there, and so on.....

Not us. Nope. We don't buy new cars.  We bought a house further out of town, that I clean BY MYSELF. I don't brag about new furniture--I brag about how long we've had our furniture.  I brag about how little I paid for my groceries, using my coupons. I almost had a panic attack when they closed the Merita Bread Store in town, so now it's back to paying $2 for a loaf of whole wheat (oh- it pains me to even type that). Thanks, Hostess {read with much sarcasm). I try to lump all of my errands together in order to save gas.  I prefer to call it "cheap chic", you know, like "shabby chic"? Except that I try to avoid the shabby part.  But I digress....

Shawn's former employer did not have great benefits, because it was a smaller "business" and medical insurance is very costly. (If you're reading this, and you know us, and you work where he used to work, I'm sorry, but you know you're paying out the nose for blah insurance, although I know it's not the "company's" fault). I considered us to have a love/hate relationship with it.  I loved and appreciated the things that the insurance DID in fact cover, but that wasn't much.  I'm honestly not sure what we were paying for with the $800 per month, other than being able to say, "Yes, I have insurance."  But whatever.....

In the spring of 2008, we got Maddie's first Medtronic Minimed. Our so-called insurance covered 20% of the $6000.00 pump. If you don't have a calculator for a brain, we paid $4800.00 for it. Now, mind you, we have 3 kids, and do not have $4800 just sitting around, so we had to finance it. Completely and thoroughly 1000% worth every penny.  It is Maddie's life-line. It's what keeps her healthy, and for that, I'm very grateful.

This pump's warranty expired April 21st of 2012. Basically, what this means is that if the pump stops working, we are up the creek without a paddle, and back to the 8 shots a day Maddie goes.  If the pump is within warranty, and the teeniest, tiniest thing happens, you'll have a brand new $6000.00 pump brought directly to your door step, or the door step of wherever you happen to be at that moment, the very next morning.  Incidentally, my sister, who also wears the Minimed and lives in NC, was skiing in Colorado a few years back.  Her pump stopped working one afternoon after skiing all day.  One phone call later, and the very next morning, they called her from the front desk of the hotel with a completely brand new pump. That's it.  Period.  Winning~

So we've been going back and forth with the so-called insurance company, with Medronic, and with the finance company to get her new pump for over 7 months.  At one point during the summer, I stopped communicating with them all, and started humbly and reverently praying that her old pump would not stop working. I guess it worked. Lo and behold, it was still working on the day we received the new one, on December 8th, 2012. (Thank you, Lord!)

Recently, Shawn got a new job, with brand new benefits, and "top of the line" medical insurance. It should not be called "medical insurance". It should be called "miracle insurance" because it does indeed perform miracles. 

I stunned my Medtronic rep (and new best friend) when I told him what insurance we had.  He called me back and was in shock. 

"You have the best insurance I've ever seen in all my years at this company."

We received the pump a few days ago.  Our miracle insurance paid for 98% (Yes, I said NINETY EIGHT PERCENT) of the $6000.00 pump, after we send in the old one for a credit. 

After 7 1/2 months of hard core prayer, and a little anxiety mixed in, hoping her pump didn't fail, she is back on track and pumpin' away.  God does perform miracles~

H1N1 Drama

Here is our Swine Flu time line.  Fortunately, Maddie has not caught it, but hopefully she will not catch it in the future.  I know there is so much drama about any kind of flu shot, or the lack thereof, but this time, I'm a little nervous about it.

August:  Maddie's endocrinologist informs me that she MUST have the H1N1 flu shot.  He also says that it is a "good idea" for the rest of us to get it, since we live in the same home and are her caretakers.

September:  Drama about the H1N1 virus in the media, cases all around NC, and some cases in our school and church, and amongst our friends.  Scientists are furiously working on the vaccine.

October 1:  Vaccine is complete. Ready to be shipped to all health care providers.  The media announces that they are taking all precautions to NOT have a shortage, and are making sure all who need it will get it.

October 5:  In for my 5 year old son's check up, I inquired about the H1N1 vaccine for my "chronically ill child" at the front desk.  I was told that they would receive it at the END of October or BEGINNING of November, and to call around that time and they would put her on a waiting list, but that she would indeed receive it because of her illness.  I also asked the doctor, and was told the same thing--she would definitely get the shot.

October 21, 2:00 p.m.:  Upon entering the office for Maddie's 9 year old check up, I noticed a sign that said "Sorry, we are out of the H1N1 vaccines.  All County Health Departments are out, also."  Surely they don't mean they are completely out because we weren't notified, or put on a list, and Maddie HAS to get one, as do all children with chronic illnesses.

October 21, 2:30 p.m.:  I asked the nurse about Maddie's need for, and her endochrinologist's demand for, her to get the vaccine.  In the same breath, I told her what I had been told at the beginning of the month, and since it wasn't the END of October, I hadn't called.  The nurse's response was, "Sorry~we only got 100 vaccines yesterday and we ran out this morning at 10:00 a.m.  I don't know why you weren't called or notified."  When I asked the doctor the same question, and added, "Why weren't we notified?"  I didn't really get a clear answer.  She just told me to see if the endochrinologist could give Maddie the shot.

Wouldn't he have told me he could give her the vaccine when he first suggested that she get it?

Something doesn't add up......

Germs, Stools, and Flu Shots

Today was Reilly's 5 year-old check up.  No biggie, right?  Oh, it was a biggie.  Having Maddie around all the time means she gets the privilege of accompanying me everywhere I go.  Being that Brendan is 2, he also gets to enjoy that privilege.  My mom has the privelege of being able to help me out when I need it, and today, I needed it.

It was a perfect plan in my head.  Pick up Reilly at 12, get the kids lunch, eat in the car, meet my mom at the doctor's office, Mom, Maddie and Brendan watch a movie in the car with the windows down (it was a beautiful day) while Reilly and I run in and see the doctor.

At about 11:55, as I was on my way to the school, my phone rings.  It was Shawn telling me to see if I could get Maddie and Brendan in to get flu shots while I was at the doctor's office, so we wouldn't have to make 2 trips.  Yeah, easy for him to say--he was sitting in a quiet room with a bunch of well behaved teenagers who were not angst ridden about getting shots in their arms.  So, I agreed, called the doctor's office to see if I was able to do it, and hence began the whining and complaining.  The nurse said that they didn't get the nasal mist this year.  Just the shots.  That's just great. 

I have to admit, I'm a worrier.  I also have severe anxiety when it comes to knowing I'm going to endure something painful or uncomfortable.  For instance, I find it almost impossible to get a glaucoma test.  I can't stick my head in a contraption knowing good and well that this contraption is going to blow air on my eye balls.  I just can't do it.  If I keep my head in it, then I inevitably close my eyes at the exact moment the air puff blows.  It's the suspence of knowing that it's going to happen.  I also can't stand the eye ball numbing drops.  Because I know that I can't feel my eye balls, and that bothers me.  But, alas, I can endure a flu shot.  So, Maddie has this worry/anxiety thing that she picked up from her mother.  I just choose to worry about more important things, like puffs of air....

Anyhoo, for the next hour and a half, I had to listen to things like, "Do they have to give the shot to me?" and "You're going to have to pay money for me to get the shot, and I don't want you spending your money on me." and "I just really feel like I'm not going to get the flu, so can I just skip the shot?"  All of this coming from the person who has taken thousands of shots, thousands of finger pricks, and hundreds of needles and tiny tubes in her back side. 

Normally I'm not a germ-o-phobe, but the swine flu scare has sent me into sort of a panic because it could be much more dangerous for a child with a chronic illness, than an otherwise healthy child.  I spent the 15 minutes in the waiting room with Reilly applying the provided hand sanitizer and kindly reminding him not to touch anything or put his hands near his face.

Everything was going smoothly until they called Reilly's name to "come on back" and told me that the other 2 kids should come back, too.  It wasn't going to take long for his check up, then they would all get the shots.  The nurse took Reilly to weigh him, and I ran out to the car to get Mom, Maddie and Brendan.  I could tell it wasn't going to be pretty when Maddie walked down the hall with tears in her eyes.

All 5 of us get escorted into a tiny and very warm examination room.  As usual, immediately 3 things start to happen simultaneously.  Reilly, who is sitting on the table in his Spiderman boxer briefs, starts talking about something, in which to demonstrate meant he had to put his entire hands in his mouth, and when asked not to do that, immediately rubs his eyes with the previous saliva/germ covered hands.  Maddie is quietly crying in anticipation on the floor, with her blood sugar soaring by this point.  Brendan is running full speed back and forth in this 5x8 square foot room, in which there are 2 chairs, a stool, a desk, the paper covered examination table, and five people.

So being the worn out and frazzled mother that I am, I first asked him to stop (knowing full and well that he wouldn't have any part of that) then I put him in "time out" which consisted of the high stool that I knew he couldn't get down from.  Now at this point I am sweating, both from the heat of the room, and from the disposition of all 3 of my kids.  The sweet nurse sticks her head into our room and says, "I'm just putting the SIX  NEEDLES for the kids' SHOTS in the bin on the door.  I didn't want you to think someone was knocking on the door."  Yeah, thanks.  Way to bring it up.  Now everyone has a precise mental picture. 

You can always tell when the doctor is about to come into your room because you can hear the papers being shifted around as they look through your chart really quickly to know what's going on with you.  As I heard Reilly's papers being shifted, the door knob was turning, and I look over at Brendan and he is in mid air.  He lands on his head with the loudest "bonk" sound that you can imagine.  He didn't land on the side of his head, or his shoulder and head.  He landed flat on the back of his head.  And right as the doctor was opening the door.

So now I have 2 crying kids, and 1 in his underwear, and we haven't even started the check up yet.  A few minutes later, Brendan stops crying only to have a noticable goose egg on his head, but Maddie was still in a fetal position crying, this time on my Mom's lap.  I'm never in the right state of mind to ask questions of the doctor at my kids' check ups.  I'm always trying to keep people from crying, and I'm always sweating from the stress of having a doctor talk to me about my child, but not really listening because someone is inevitably acting up.

When it was shot time, Maddie went first, and started hyperventalating.  When the doctor got her calmed down, she gave her the shot.  It was somewhat remeniscent of the first time I gave Maddie a shot of insulin, but not quite as ear-piercing.  Of course, she looked right at the needle and started screaming, not to cease for probably a minute or two.  Fortunately, my mom had a good grip on her.  I had visions of the letters "HI" on her meter.  Stress and anxiety causes her blood sugar to go sky high, and this was definitely stress and anxiety for her, and for me. 

Unfortunately, Reilly received his kindergarten shots, so he got 4 shots instead of 1.  I heard him say things that I hadn't ever heard him say before.  "Get me away from her!" and "This has got to stop now!" and "I can't believe you're letting her do this to me!"  It was quite unsettling for me.  The worst part is having to hold them down so they can't move, except for turning their heads to see the 4 inch long needles.

Then it was Brendan's turn.  He was sleepy, and sweaty, and had a huge bump on his head.  I set him up on the table and she gave him his flu shot.  He didn't wince, he didn't cry, and he didn't even change his sweet expression from a blank look.  He just sat there and got his shot, and watched the whole time.  I think God gave me him to help my calm my anxious nerves and give me a periodic breath of fresh air in my stress filled life.

When we got out to the car, Maddie checked her blood and she was in the 500's.  That figures.....but at least she won't get the flu!  

   

Kindergarten

For most moms, Kindergarten is bitter sweet. Your child is growing up, learning new things, exploring the world around them, and adapting to new surroundings and new friends. Your child goes on real field trips, stays longer on play dates, and has a new array of interests.

As a mom, you don't want to see your child get bigger--you want them to stay a baby, at home, with you. Because the older and more mature they grow, the further away from you they get, and the closer they get to eventually leaving the nest. But at the same time, you want your child to grow and learn and do things that you can be proud of.

For me, not so much. Kindergarten was a feeling of dread. What am I going to do?? How will Maddie get her shots? What if she gets low, and the teacher is busy teaching? What if she passes out in P.E.? What if she gets too low in the morning?

I am fortunate enough to have a husband who teaches in a wonderful Christian school. This school is full of wonderful administrators, teachers, parents, and kids. There was no question whether or not I wanted Maddie to go there. Just like public schools, this school didn't have a full time nurse. Or a part time nurse. Or a nurse at all.

Shawn and I talked it over, and we would meet with her teachers and show them how to "handle" Maddie's diabetes. We knew her teachers, and we knew that they were excellent at what they do, and we knew that they LOVE kids. I'm sure everything will be fine.

Keep in mind, blood sugar and insulin had been my 24/7 life for about 6 weeks. It was "no biggie" by that point in time. I had done the single-mom-of-two-kids-one-having-diabets thing while Shawn was traveling. It was easy by that point.

Shawn called me and said, "Get your mom to keep the kids for a couple of hours Thursday morning. We're going to meet with Maddie's teachers." Great! Wonderful!! Everything is going to be fine! I'll teach them the condensed version of what I learned, and they'll be fine. Whew!!

The night before, I made a list of things that I needed to show them, a list of things I needed to tell them, I gathered the items that needed to be kept on hand, and I typed up a notebook, yes, a notebook, full of things that they may want to have in writing, and I got lots of extra needles and lancets out so that we could all practice shots and blood glucose monitoring.

All I can say is that I sat down in a teeny-tiny chair, at a teeny-tiny table across from two of the sweetest kindergarten teachers that I know, and started going down my list. They were quiet, and they listened intently. And I kept going, and going, and going. And when I was through showing them how to stick a needle in Maddie's little bitty arm, I looked up at them to see if they had any questions.

Now, I don't drink coffee, so I don't have many cups and saucers lying around, but I am aware of how big a saucer is, in comparison to one's eyes. These two sweet ladies were motionless and silent. Their eyes were as big a saucers, and they didn't even blink.

"OK." Her teacher spoke very slowly.

"I'm not sure if I can do all of this." The assistant spoke very quietly.

"Well, I've shown you exactly what to do, and I have it all written in this notebook. If you want to take this home and look over it, that will be fine. If there are ever any questions during the school day, you can call my cell phone."

I got a phone call the day before school started from the principal. They had hired a nurse to be at the school every day!

That Summer

That was a long hard summer. I had a child that I had to give shots to 8 times a day. I had to prick her finger 10 or so times per day. I had to watch what she put in her mouth. I had to make sure she wasn’t shaking from getting too low. I had to check her urine for ketones. I had to check her blood every 2 or 3 hours during the night. I had to tell her she couldn’t have the foods that she was used to eating. I couldn’t let her out of my sight for more than an hour or two. I had a toddler that had already begun to enter the “terrible two’s”. My husband went away for week long trips, 3 times. I had to start preparing Maddie for kindergarten…... Oh yeah, and I unexpectedly got pregnant. Nice…..

Diabetes 101

It was a Wednesday afternoon. When we walked in, the nurse took us to a conference room. Whew--no examination room, no paper liner on the table, no tiny sink or stool with wheels. Just a table and 4 chairs. It wasn't anything intimidating for a 5 year old. And there we sat from 2 p.m. until it got dark outside. I don't even know when we left. All I knew was that my mom had my 2 year old and we had a sick daughter.

We learned A LOT about diabetes that afternoon. We learned about cells, blood, sugars, the pancreas, how to give shots, how to check glucose, what to do when, and what to do where. It was information overload. I remember thinking that this was more information than I had taken in during all 4 years of college.

Then it was time. The doctor wanted ME to give my child a shot. He wanted ME to stick a needle in her smooth tanned skin. I washed my hands. I prepared the insulin. I screwed on the needle. I wiped down her skin with alcohol.

Now, we don't have cats, but I've heard that it is almost impossible to get a cat into a toilet. Why anyone would want to put a cat down into a toilet bowl is beyond me, but nonetheless, I've heard it's tough. Supposedly the cat clings onto the side for dear life, all the while scratching, biting, hissing, and screaming. Clinging to your arm, so as to not get wet from the water.

Administering this shot, was like trying to get a cat in the toilet. Once I held up that needle, we had to catch Maddie. Once we had her in our grasp, we had to physically hold down her arms and legs. We had to hold her still, because she was NOT going to let us near her with a needle in our hands. After the even-keeled doctor and nurse tried for about 10 minutes to talk her into letting us stick her, Shawn stepped in and held her. When she wouldn't allow him to hold her down, the doctor, who is probably 5 feet tall and in his 60's, grabbed Maddie, while the nurse held her arms and sat on her legs.

I had a tiny window of opportunity to stick her teeny little tummy with this stupid needle. I just went for it. I held my breath, pinched up her skin, and let her have it. I was sweating, my eyes were burning, the lump in my throat was painful, I was nauseous, and I was shaking. Shawn was as white as a ghost and plastered up against the wall in the corner.

The sound that came out of that child's mouth was like nothing that I had ever heard before. Not only was she being held down by 2 total strangers, but she was getting a shot in her stomach, and it was being administered by her mother. The person that promised that she would never let anything happen to her. The person who loved and hugged and kissed her. The one that held her and rubbed her head when she was upset. The one that picked her up when she skinned her knee and carried her inside. The one that sat up all night when she was sick. Hopefully she would forgive me for this.

When it was over, I was relieved, Maddie was an angry mess, the doctor and nurse were stunned, and Shawn was still quiet and pale. What a relief that it was over!! Now, I only had to do that exact same thing 6-8 times a day for the rest of her life. Oh, and by the way, I only have to check her blood sugar 12 times a day until we get this under control.

As we were leaving the dark and vacant doctors office late on that Wednesday evening, the doctor announced, "I'll see you at 9 in the morning. Be prepared to stay until at least 6 p.m. Oh, and you'll come in all day on Friday, too."

We had a trip to the beach planned for that weekend. Shawn was going on a missions trip the week after that. What in the world were we going to do? I don't know if I can handle this. I guess I don't have much of a choice.