Friday, September 28, 2012

A First in Two Years


Scotcheroos!

I haven't made them in more than two years.  Sometime before October, 2010 to be exact.  But the girls keep asking.  I have been assigned dessert for the cheerleaders this Homecoming Friday so here they are.  And they are so naughty and yummy!! 

They are perhaps the best Scotcheroos in the world.
(it's the butter - as recommended by a local cookie shop owner)

totally bolus worthy


Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Looking Back: Mind Controlling Blood Sugars


Looking Back posts are my effort to journal the diabetes times
that have gone before the start of this blog.

A few days after Pink's diagnosis, getting ready for one of my 10 trips to the grocery store in 3 days, I asked if there was a favorite candy she wanted to treat lows.  You know, during that time they could have absolutely anything they wanted to treat a low and they could have as much diet soda as their little hearts desired because...well...because.  Pink requested candy corn.  Being as it was October, that I could do.

I checked her blood sugar and all was well so off I went.  And you know the number had to be good for me to go to the store and leave her at home.  And you know I flew through that store thinking I would return home to find her unconscious on the floor with nobody else paying the slightest bit of mind.  I know you did the same those early days!
ohmmm...low blood sugar...ohmmm

When I got home and verified she was still upright at the computer, I unpacked the groceries.  I set the bag of candy corn on the table.  Pink saw it and was obviously disappointed she couldn't have any.  She didn't want a shot.  I told her she could have some the next day at a meal.  The poor thing went back to the computer.

My hand raised, I swear to the Corn King of Candy, 15 minutes later I hear from the other room "I feel low."  I check her and as sure as candy corn is nasty, she was low. 

"You did that on purpose!" I said.  "Candy corn coming up."


Saturday, September 22, 2012

The Power of the Bracelet


Today I went to the TCOYD conference.  My favorite thing from the conference is my You Can Do This Project bracelet.  A tangible item that represents all the support the DOC gives me.  You give me more than I can ever repay.  Thank you! 

The bracelet ((hugs)) my wrist and touching it gives me strength. 
 
It will give me super powers to ward off the evil that is diabetes.  Just try to get at me or my girls!  With lightning fast reflexes I will block, reflect and crush all advances.  pstshoo, pstshoo!


artwork by alex ross 

"All women can do wonders if they're put to the test." -Wonder Woman (S1, E2)








Friday, September 21, 2012

"Laura? ...Roo passed out."


Incoming call from Roo's cell phone:

CheerCoach:  Laura?  This is CheerCoach.  Roo is OK, she's OK, but she passed out.
Me: <buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz in my head><30 min away><why the fuck am I not there>
CC:  She is OK  We checked her blood sugar and she is 208.  What should we do? 
Me: She is alert?
CC:  Yes, the girls had her eat a cookie.  She is laying on the track.
lots of chatter, chatter, chatter in the background.  I can hear Roo's voice.
Me: Clean her fingers and check again.  There should be a wet wipe or alcohol swab in the top of her cooler.  Make sure the finger is dry.  Is the medic for the game still there?
CC: No, I think she left.  Roo keeps yelling to you that she's is OK.  She loves you.  She's OK.
that girl - my pulse drops from 200 to 150
if you can call it small talk while waiting for the number
Me: Is she able to check herself?  I wish I was there, I'd have that blood on there in two seconds.
CC: She says her hands are shaky
Me: What happened?
CC:  They were cheering the football players.  They won the game.
Me:  Maybe she fainted because they won.  nervous laughter all around.  Have that number yet?
CC:  199.  Should we wait or get on the bus or...?  The medic is here now.
pulse drops to 110
Me:  Does the medic see anything non-diabetic?
CC:  No.  Roo is still saying she is fine.
Me:  Can I talk to her?
Roo:  Hi.  I'm fine really.  I didn't feel anything but I wasn't paying attention.  I just noticed I couldn't feel my legs and then I was rolling over and everyone was coming towards me and looking at me.
Me:  You don't feel low or wiped out?
Roo:  No.  My hands are shaky but I didn't feel low and I feel fine now.  I think I can walk to the bus.
Me:  OK.  I think you are fine to get on the bus but I want you to check every 15 minutes. 
Roo:  OK.
Me: Let me talk to CC
I hear someone in the background say "If this had been New York you'd have laid there for 2 days."  Turns out it was the head football coach.  hardy har har.
Me to CC: I think she's fine to get on the bus but I've asked her to check every 15 minutes so if you could just make sure she does and then texts me the number.
CC:  Absolutely.  I'll be sitting right behind her so I'll make sure she does that.
Me:  Thank you so much.

Texts that follow:







Fixed her up at home.  No ketones (.3 on meter).  She's never had ketones so maybe that is enough to make her tummy feel bad.  Maybe it was adrenaline crash.

So what the hell happened?  Regular person faint from lack of blood and oxygen to brain from yelling?  No food?  I haven't asked her if she ate.  Unknown, obscure, diabetes related, never heard of crap ass thing? 

I have that conference tomorrow.  Pink has been sick for 4 days and now this.  Maybe I can go late once the girls are awake and safe.  I wonder if a diabetes conference will accept a diabetes related tardiness?

Thursday, September 20, 2012

I Miss Before


I miss running out the door with keys, wallet and two kids in tow

I miss when it was only irritating to forget my phone

I miss carefree slumber

I miss staying up late to finish a good book

I miss sending the girls to sleepovers with no worries

I miss not having to explain

I miss when the biggest worry about school was if someone was going to be mean to my girls

I miss rarely going to the doctor

I miss using my vacation days for whatever I want

I miss not categorizing a photograph as before or after

I miss the the occasional (what I now know to be) quite mind

I miss when the main focus on sick days was if they could make it to the toilet in time

I miss watching the girls run and play and not seeing a dropping blood sugar

I miss an extra $300 a month

I miss feeling only mommy guilt when separated from the girls

I miss seeing a certain innocence in their eyes

I miss seeing beautiful young skin without site spots

I miss when days and days could pass with no pain inflicted on my girls

I miss thinking about the girls' futures with only curious wonder

Today I miss Before


Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Irrational?

I was only going to be gone for 15 min.  She'll be fine. 

We were heading out to the local Friday night High School football game.  Roo was cheering and Pink was making an unprecedented social public appearance.  Translation: she's actually leaving the house because her friends were going to be there so she could hang and not have to watch the game for even one second.

First issue:  It was about 65 degrees outside as we were leaving.  Pink had on very short sleeves and a sleeveless hoodie.  You're going to want a jacket.  But she didn't want to cover her oh-so-cool hoodie and went as far as to take full responsibility if she were to get cold.  It'll be my own fault if I get cold.  I'll be fine. 

Second issue: Do I have to carry my purse everywhere?!  Of course she does! but the look on her face...I was weak.  I think just a touch of burnout is surfacing so I agreed to carry her meter if she stuffed her pocket with Smarties.  Deal.

We arrive.  The minute we stepped out of the car she said I take it back. It's cold. 

Cutting my eyes to her, Sorry, what?  I don't know what you mean.  (Giiirrrl, you gonna be chilly.)

I went looking for her after halftime to check in, tell her I was running home and to hand off the meter.  She gives me that look again.  She doesn't want anything to do with carrying the meter tonight.  And the inner D-ialog begins...

She can't be without her meter even for a minute!  Just force her to take it.  Why can't she just have one night without having a load of crap to carry.  I'll only be gone 15 min.  She'll be fine.  Her check was 150 and she has glucose in her pocket.  Are you crazy?!  Don't risk it!  It just takes one time.  You're an idiot for even considering it.  She..has..glucose..in..her..pocket.

We've got spirit, yes we do
We've got spirit, how 'bout you!

So I left with the meter.  GAH!  I gave her a look (in between her trying to push me on my merry way), told her I'd be back in 15 min and to not hesitate to eat the Smarties.

Pink: Oh, could you please grab my jacket?

I run home feeling uneasy.  I'm tempting fate.  I do my thing, grab the jacket, briefly hoping that I don't have to pay again to get in because I didn't get a stamp.  Surely my cub paw tattoo purchased to support the student council counts as a stamp. 

By the time I'm walking back into the game I catch myself hoofing it so intensely I can feel my (face) cheeks jiggling and my jaw clamped so tight with tension it gives a big POP when I stretch it open.  Telling myself she's fine - she feels her lows - I didn't hear any emergency sirens - I don't see any suspicious circle of people possibly crowed around someone passed out on the ground.

She was fine.

I tell myself to CHILL the freak OUT all the time.  Rationally it was just fine for her not to have her meter for 15 minutes but my D mind is constantly planning the worst.  What if something happened to me?  What if something happened at the football field and we were separated for a longer period of time?  What if...?  What if...?  The stress of the "what if" nearly locked my jaw in that 15 minutes.

Irrational?  Maybe.  But diabetes is not rational so I can't be either. I'm protecting the very lives of my daughters.  So if I have to let my logical thinking brain into crazy town to achieve it, I will.  And everyone carrys their meter so Mamma doesn't end up with lockjaw.






almost Wordless Wednesday

Pink's got a tummy bug. 
Yesterday only bolused for half of what she ate and never went over 140. 
Today bolused 60% and made it up to 174.

tummy bug recovery tray - carb a la carte



Tuesday, September 18, 2012

A (busy) Day-in-the-Life of Roo


marching band at the front
of the parade

cheerleaders at the end
of the parade


8:50 BG 190 


<---10:15am


                            
11:00am --->
 






dance studio
exhibition

drill team
exhibition


12:30 BG 144
1:08 BG 99

 <---1:30pm

2:16 BG 224

                        
 3:15pm---> 
                               




dream catchers by a local
high school girl

cheer
exhibition


                                        


<---3:30pm

                                                            

4:00pm--->
      



                                                           

5:04pm BG 215
5:05 funnel cake

SMOOOOCH HER UP!




Friday, September 14, 2012

Fails

I hadn't checked meters in awhile

>Fail

Lazy

>Fail

Complacent

>Fail

Roo leaves the house before I get up.  Her wake-up numbers have been in the 200s for FIVE days

>Fail

Lack of communication

>Fail


P.S.  If you type the word "fail" over and over it starts to look unrecognizable.  Easy to avert your eyes.  Maybe even easy to dismiss and not take to heart.  So I'll stop that.  I must always, always strive. 




Wednesday, September 12, 2012

To Go or Not to Go

I don't do well in social settings.  Which actually translates to elevated heart rate, sweaty palms, pitty pits, darting eyes and a barely controlled urge to bolt.

So if you're going to the TCOYD conference in Des Moines, Iowa on Sept 22 I should be easy to pick out of the crowd.

better pick me up
some of these

This is sooo not my thing.  But I want to hear the speakers and visit the vendors and, most of all, get You Can Do This bracelets for all of us.  But then they might find me out!  The jig will be up.  IRL scares the shit out of me.  I'm NOT doing the video!  You cannot make me.

Who will I eat lunch with?  (Am I still in high school?!)  Is it OK to wear my standard uniform of jeans and t-shirt?  What if I bawl the whole time? (I tend to get weepy in larger groups of people/children with diabetes)

Probably not the best idea to post about it (for all 3 of you to read) but I wanted to put it out there so I have motivation to come back here and post that I actually went and hopefully tell you how wonderful it was.

Possible outcomes include, in order from least likely to most likely:

1.  I will not go.
2.  I will go and be a perfect social butterfly, introducing myself to everyone, hunting down the famous DOCers, hugging, eagerly participating in all open discussions with thoughtfulness and wit.
3.  I will go, eat lunch in my car, and swoop in to snag a bracelet when the You Can Do This girls are busy.
4.  I will go, avoid most everyone, maybe eat at the banquet, introduce myself to You Can Do This girls and honestly gush over them with a high probability of an honest hug and try to snag a VerioIQ meter.



Thursday, September 6, 2012

Looking Back: Dx 2

Looking Back posts are my effort to journal the diabetes times
that have gone before the start of this blog.


Roo, age 14

I thought our lives had changed forever on a Thursday.  And they had.  Then came Sunday.  Sunday was three days after my younger daughter, Pink, had been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes.  A day we were joining together as a family to show our support for Pink.  A day we all were going to check our blood sugar just like Pink had had to do already so many times in the last three days. 

Pinks older sister, Roo, did not want to have anything to do with this.  Roo does not do well with needles, shots, blood or even talk about blood or the internal workings of the human body.  With a little lot of encouragement pressure Roo agreed to do a blood sugar check.  Poor thing. She must have hovered the lancing device over her finger for 5 minutes.  She declined my offer to do it for her.  With what I can only call a true act of bravery she pricked her finger, applied the blood drop to the strip, 5..4..3..2..1..

435 or something

The world stopped.

My vision started to narrow.  Not really narrow.  It wasn't black.  The area in my peripheral vision seemed to solidify.  It retained all its color and imagery.  Like taking a still picture from a video.  All thought processes seemed to halt.  I remember hearing the air rushing into my nostrils from my breathing. 

sur·re·al  /səˈriÉ™l, -ˈril/ [suh-ree-uhl, -reel]
adjective
having the disorienting, hallucinatory quality of a dream

checkCheck mark symbol 

I then proceeded to go through a sort of abbreviated, out of order, pseudo version of the 5 stages of grief stuffed in the following 10 minutes.

Denial:  "That can't be right." This can't be happening.  Did I see that right?  What just happened?  This can't be happening.  That can't be right.

Bargaining:  "Roo, you know how you were eating that Nutrigrain bar with your fingers.  We should wash your hands and recheck."  Yeah, that had to be it.  She flat out refused.  Please, this can't be happening.  Please, let this be a sick joke.

AngerThis is some sick joke!  WTF!!

Acceptance:  Like a zombie I went to the phone to call the on-call endo.  I got a call right back from the nurse practitioner that was on duty for that weekend.  I told him what happened and he asked me when my other daughter was diagnosed...

Depression:  "Thursday," my voice cracking slightly. Don't lose it now.  You've got to hold it together just a little longer.

"ZOINKS!" he answered. 

He said "Zoinks."  Bless his heart.  I liked him immediately.  What more could he say?  It made me think of Scooby Doo right at that second.  Which is better than freaking out any day.  Is it even mentally possible to freak out and think of Scooby Doo at the same time?  He advised us to check Roo's wake-up number and call them back the next day.

I went to talk to Roo but none of us really wanted to think about what was happening.  I told her about the check in the morning and we would probably be going to the clinic.  I think I hugged her.  I HOPE I hugged her.  Certainly I hugged her!  I can't remember much after talking to the nurse practitioner.

I cried.

She woke up in the 200s and when I called the clinic they already knew about us and had an appointment already made.  She was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes that day, Monday, October 18, 2010.  Four days after Pink.



Monday, September 3, 2012

Dear Meri

Dear Meri,

I am so sorry for the loss of your beloved husband, Ryan, on Sunday.  I have never met you or Ryan and you do not know me.  I have selfishly taken comfort and support from you through your blog.  You called for Sunday to be a day of prayer and fasting for Ryan.  I prayed for a miracle to heal Ryan.  For reasons we cannot understand Ryan was taken but I fully believe that God used our prayers to accompany, comfort and carry Ryan to Him.  I will continue to pray for comfort and peace for you and your family.

I recently read Ryan's "Ruh Roh.........Hacker Alert" again.  This is how I was introduced to Ryan.  Come on!  "Ruh Roh" - how could you not like him immediately?  It is funny, touching, and beautiful.  Much how I image you and Ryan to be.  He writes "...walking hand in hand in love forever and always."  I know you and Ryan will continue to be connected and walk "hand in hand in love forever and always."

Much love and many thanks for all the comfort you've given.
Laura

You can offer support for Meri and her 4 boys (3 with Type1) by giving here.



Sunday, September 2, 2012

No, I'm not going to teach you about diabetes even though this is the first time you've asked since diagnosis

The day was a perfectly fine day until a certain teenager layed down on the couch, face in, cuddled in a blanket.

Me: Uh-oh, you better sit up so you don't go to sleep before checking.
Teen: I'm not going to go to sleep
Me: You say that every time and then you fall asleep.  That is your going-to-sleep position.
Teen: I'm not going to go to sleep
variations repeated 10 times
Me: Sit up now and go do your bedtime check
Teen: <grunt>
Teen: 98.  sits back on couch
On board?
2.6  (lays back down)
Don't lay back down.  You have to figure out what to do.
<grunt>
Sit back up.  What do you think you should do before you fall asleep.
I'm not going to fall asleep.
Get up.
<grunt>
variations repeated 100 times
GET UP NOW AND MAKE YOURSELF SAFE BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP.
I don't know what to do
What do you think you should do?
Eat. But I'm full. (lays back down)
GET UP NOW AND MAKE YOURSELF SAFE BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP.
I don't know what to do
<sssiiiggghhh>
You can stay up if you think you have food on board but only if you are sure you won't fall asleep or you can eat.
---
---
Please decide what you are going to do.
---
---
You have 10 seconds to start moving.

variations repeated 1000 times.  situation degrading quickly. You do know what to do.  No I don't.  You are just mad because I made you sit up.  No, you are yelling at me because I don't know what to do.  Take a second and think about it, you know what to do.  Ohhh, you are always right and I'm just lying.

I'll take care of it.  Go to your room
No.  You just started yelling at me and I don't know what to do
Go to your room now.
No.  I have to do something and you won't tell me what to do.

We'll talk about it in the morning.  Right now you need to get out of here and GO TO YOUR ROOM.

the blessed event takes a very nasty turn and a teen goes as far as:

I want you to teach me.  Teach me about diabetes.  Why won't you teach me!

That truly was a nice try.  She has never wanted to talk in detail about diabetes and has even gone as far as to say straight out that she'll do what she has to but she doesn't want to talk about it.  It was clever of her to use that to knock me off my course knowing I'm would normally be drooling all over a chance like that.  But alas, she is in her room with milk in her belly and tears on her cheeks.  And I'm sitting up waiting to do follow-up checks and feeling like a big pile a poo.  Two stubborns don't make anything right.



Saturday, September 1, 2012

Looking Back: Pennywise

Looking Back posts are my effort to journal the diabetes times
that have gone before the start of this blog.


Here is an email I sent a family member about 9 months post dx. 

It stays quiet and watches you celebrate small successes.  Watches you build a little confidence.  Watches as you find a little rhythm.  Watches you watching your children's excitement over a great first day at school.  Watching.  Waiting.  Lurking.  And then this diabolical disease jumps out from its dark, sick sewer and smacks you up side the head.  Laughing at the protective walls you work to reinforce each day to allow a seemingly sane and normal life.  (The image that lives in my head for D is the clown in the movie "IT")

Roo is doing your basic English paper about who she is, what she likes and 3 life goals.  "Can I use having 3 kids as a life goal?" she asks me.  SMACK!  "Yes."  I reply, trying to catch my breath.  Now, I know that this goal is absolutely achievable, but the risks and hard work she will have to go through just breaks, rips and crushes my mommy heart.
<RhymesWithShucking, RhymesWithChitty-RhymesWithSass> D.  <RyhmesWithDuck> you.

Back from blowing my nose.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  OK, I'm right back at it you little
<RhymesWithTrucker>.

Still right back atcha!