On the top of the World

Dear Sweets,

I hope that you can always feel that in this life, you are on top of the world.  Daddy encouraged you to try your hardest to find a way to climb to the top of this rock. You almost gave up.  We waited patiently for you to find your way.  It is something you really love to do......climb.  

You have not let your diabetes slow you down.  You never complain, cry, or ask why.  You go on with life, but in the quiet moments, sometimes I can see your pain.  You try your hardest to not let it slow you down.  You are so strong.....so much stronger than I.

I pray that throughout this life, you will continue to climb.  To see whatever you want in life and find a way to get to the top of it.  I pray you will never  let your disease define you or tell you what you can't do or who you should be.

You have so much spirit, fortitude, determination, and just the right amount of stubbornness. 

Your Daddy and I will be right behind you....encouraging you....helping you....cheering you on.

You are amazing Sweets.  Everyday you prove it again and again.

We love you to the ends of the Earth and back again.

Love, Mom

Unpacking and hiding the memories away

Some experiences are to be treasured, photographed, talked about around the dinner table, and remembered for years.  Others are pushed deep down inside, hidden away, and locked from the heart.
They are so emotionally awful that you go out of your way to not remember them.  But, sometimes, they creep up.  Like when you are trying to fall asleep and all you can play in your mind is that experience.  Then you end up crying yourself to sleep.  Other times they unexpectedly hit when you are cleaning and find related objects that slams your heart to pieces again.
Sweet's gifts and cards and things from the hospital stay over the summer were Godsends.  They uplifted her heart, gave her joy in that time of stress, and let her know how much everyone loves her.  They kept her busy for hours in that boring place. She cried at the love and caring others sent.
We packed them up with us in a big gift bag and brought them home.  We put them in her room, and there they sat, untouched.  Eventually the bag got moved to her walk in closet.  When she was bored, I told her to go get out some of the lovely gifts to play with.  She declined......every time.  Eventually I put two and two together.  She didn't want to look at the gifts because it reminded her of her most awful experience on this earth this far. Memories of the day and time that changed her life so dramatically forever.  Of the week she went into the hospital one person, and came out another.
One day I tried to clean out the closet, I looked at the bag, and the pit immediately formed in my stomach. I totally understood her then.  I didn't want to clean it out either.  I just shut the door and left.  We hardly ever go into the closet.  It's a huge mess, a room not used anymore.  I need to put the laundry back in there, it needs to be cleaned.  Which means, I have to do something with the bag of stuff.  I will have to go through it.  Today is the day for me to clean it, to remember. Of course I will cry.  I might break down.  I might hyperventilate.  But, I will lock the cards and gifts away from her.  Not to be seen, until the time when she can begin to heal from the emotional trauma.  When we can pull them out, and remember again, all the love our friends and neighbors and family gave us at that time instead of the awfulness.

p.s.~ on a strange discovery, the stuffed animals she recieved in the hospital, for some reason, do not provoke these feelings. They are all on her bed and slept with every night.  Also, the gifts she recieved from family and friends upon her return home are not catergorized in this either.
p.p.s.~ Again, thank you to all who sent cards, flowers, and gifts to cheer up our Sweets.  We love you.

Endocrinologist

Endocrinologist...... I love you

Diabetically Scheming Friends

Sweets told me something that happened at school the other day and I thought it was quite amusing.

She has another boy in her grade with diabetes and they often find themselves walking to lunch from the office together.  Sometimes they eat next to each other too.  

This particular day, I had put a chocolate in Sweet's lunch.  Matthew was sitting next to her and as any diabetic knows, a sweet treat is very nice to find.  I can just imagine the look on his face as Sweets pulled it out.

I don't know the exact conversation that went on from there, but it had to be something like this.

Matthew: "I love mint patties".

Sweets: " Here, I think I can break off this much without it messing up my carb count.  Do you want some"?

Matthew:  "Sure, thanks!!  I think that will be just the right amount that won't make my blood sugar go high.   Thanks for sharing Sweets". 

Sweets:  " I know how much you probably love to have candy.  Just like me.  And I know how you feel every day about diabetes.  I know what you go through."

Matthew:  "It sure is nice not to be alone anymore.  I am happy to see you in the office and at lunch every day.  You are so happy and friendly".

Sweets:  "It's nice to be able to diabetically scheme with you Matthew.  Don't tell our Mom's we share"!

D-Mom

How God Selects The Mother Of A Child With Diabetes

By: Erma Bombeck



Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. Did you ever wonder how mothers of children with Diabetes are chosen? Somehow I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint Matthew."
"Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint Cecilia."
"Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint Gerard. He's used to profanity."

Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a child with Diabetes." The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."


"Exactly", smiles God. "Could I give a child with Diabetes to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel."

"But has she the patience?" asks the angel.


"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I am going to give her has her own world. She has to make it live in her world and that's not going to be easy."

"But ,Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."


God smiles. "No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness."

The angel gasps. "Selfishness? Is that a virtue?"


God nods. "If she cannot separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, this is a woman whom I will bless with less than perfect."

"She does not realize it yet, but she is to be envied. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see....ignorance, cruelty, prejudice...and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as if she is here by my side."

"And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid air. 

God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."

D-Dad

D- doesn't just stand for diabetic.  This is the most awesome D-Dad you will ever find.  He is Deserving, Dutiful, Determined, Diligent, as well as Dashing.

I recently read a blog post written by a D-dad which was about his little girl's pink supply purse. He carried around everywhere for her.  It was mentioned that a more masculine bag could have been bought to put her things in since he would be the one to carry it most places, but  he let her pick a pink princess one out because he wanted her to be happy.

We went on a cave tour this past weekend and this Dad had his daughters purse strung over his shoulder the whole time too.  This picture is so symbolic.  We as parents, and especially this Dad, carry her burdens on our shoulders for her. We do not make her carry her diabetes on her own.  We throw her purse of worries and supplies on our backs for her until one day(as she grows and we teach), she will be big enough, strong enough, and emotionaly mautre enough to carry her "purse" on her own.

You know what?  He looks pretty good with a bag!

Back to School with T1D

I have been putting off writing this post.  The last 2.5 weeks have been so tiring and emotionally draining that I felt even the thought of pounding out a post on it might just tip the scales so far that I could be officially considered a wreck. These last two weeks have been the worst for me since I brought Sweets home from the hospital last June. I don't even know where to start.
Lets just say, the nonchalant manner in which the other T1D Mom's handle their children in Sweet's school, makes me look like a neurotic lunatic.  Granted, there are only two others, one boy who is Sweets age, and a girl just a grade younger.  She was diagnosed just a month before Sweets, he's had diabetes since he was three and has a pump.  Go figure.  But, it wasn't long before I realized that I was the only parent training staff members on diabetes, creating action plans and low blood sugar guides for all the classrooms she would be in, creating low blood sugar boxes for the office, her classroom, and other rooms she would be in, meeting with recess aids, talking to lunch ladies, planning ahead for fire drills and lock down, etc.  I was the only one coming into the school every day, checking my daughter, interfacing with the teacher, and consequently.......looking like a stalker.  Am I over reacting?  Maybe......  Am I overprotective ? ......Probably.  But, how can you leave your child at school unless you are 100% sure everyone can take care of her, that there is a plan and it will work, that she will make it through the day and not eventually pass out from low blood sugar, or be in trouble for laying her head down when she's high.  How can you make sure that she will get the correct insulin dose for lunch if she's normal, high, or even low for that matter?  How can you leave her there and go home and get anything done without worrying so much that you are in tears, or sick, or unable to stop yourself from texting the teacher or calling the office every hour?  You can't, unless you have taken every step available to make sure, sure, sure, that everything has been thought of, and all staff is on board.  And still, I worry.
See?  My blood pressure is rising as I write this.

Here is a copy of her Care Plan I worked out for her.

Here is a copy of her Low Blood Sugar Guide for the classrooms she is in

Here is a list of the items in her Low Blood Sugar Boxes
- 4 juice boxes
- 4 15 carb snack pouches
- Peanuts for protein
- Glucose Tabs
- Cake Gel
- Quick guide for Blood Sugar Monitoring
- Carb count book (office)
- Keton strips (office)
- Extra pen needles (office)
- 20 carb yogurts (office fridge)

I bought Sweets the cutest D-Bag (purse) she keeps in the classroom and carries with her everywhere except to recess. The items in her bag: meter, strips, alcohol pads, glucose tabs, Cake gel, Glucogon shot, juice box, 15 carb snack, extra batteries for meter, insulin, and extra pen needles to be with her everywhere.  Then, in the case of a lock down or fire drill or wherever she is, she has access to those things that will keep her alive.  The other D- kids keep their stuff exclusively in the office and that baffles me.  Why wouldn't they keep it with them in case they couldn't get to the office?


*She has reminder notes on her desk when to check and to help her remember to stop and think about how she's feeling.

*Myself or the Office manages her 10 'o' clock check where she gets a snack so her levels don't crash to a dangerous zone, again.

*The home health nurse comes in at lunch and 2 hours after for her insulin and checks.

*Her teacher texts with me her levels and she has a log for Sweets to fill out.

Still, every day is a battle as her diabetes makes us jump through hoops with unnatural high numbers in the early morning, to crashing lows in the later morning.  Then it laughs at us as we deal with low's before lunch and roller coaster numbers in the afternoon.  She has had to eat lunch alone on two occasions and has already missed a P.E. class.  I am constantly trying new things to hopefully figure it all out. I hope, one day, that I can come home, confident that Sweets will be fine at school and I don't have to sit here and worry all day.  It will take time, to realize that the staff can handle her, that she can take care of herself, and that the hurdles we have to get over will be behind us.  Until then, I will cry in the mornings, worry all afternoon, and cry again at night that we have to do this all over again the next day.