First day of school

Today was the big day … all three boys are now at the same school!  They are now all attending a private “all boys” school in a neighboring town.  The school starts in 4th grade and ends in 9th.  Ben just started 4th grade, Cole is in 7th and Garren is in 8th.

This afternoon I picked up the boys and I was anxious to hear about their first day.  When Ben jumped into the back of the car he told me he was hungry and wanted to eat his snack.  I suggested he check himself and then he could have his snack.  He did and he was 132.  Hmmm ... Excellent.

On the ride home I peppered the boys with questions about their day.  While we were chatting, Ben interrupted us and said, "Guys, I didn't realize how much freedom you had at your school.  Last year when we walked around school you had to always follow a teacher and stay in a straight line.  And you could not talk or you got a lecture on being quiet."

Ben may not have realized how much freedom his brothers had at their school, but I did.  It's a dream for an active young boy to be able to walk/run independently between classes.  But for me it felt more like a nightmare.  Last year in 3rd grade Ben spent the entire day with his one teacher in their one classroom that conveniently was just 12 feet away from the nurse's office!

Last week, Jeff and I met with the new school nurse, Mrs G. to discuss Ben's day.  She suggested Ben come to her office three times a day to get his blood sugar checked and receive any correction boluses he may need.  Mrs. G's office is located in a separate building from Ben's classrooms.  Ben would now have to leave his school house and walk across a small parking lot to see the school nurse.  He was no longer going to be constantly under the watchful eye of either his teacher or the school nurse.  The plan all seemed reasonable but I was nervous (really nervous).  So this morning before Ben left for school I insisted he keep a tube of glucose tabs in his pocket.  I told him that if he felt low at all that he should just eat a tab.  He did not need to wait to see the nurse to check his blood sugar.  If he felt low eat a tab and no one would be angry.

This afternoon after we got home the boys started unpacking their bags.  And Ben pulled out his tube of glucose tabs from his pocket and he said, "Mom, I took 2 and half glucose tabs today at school."

I was surprised.  The nurse had not written that down on his log sheet!  So I asked, "When did you do that?"

Ben explained, "At the very end of the day when we were getting ready to leave.  I felt really shaky.  I was really, really shaky mom.  So I took a tab and then I took one and half more until I felt better."

He tells me this whole story with a big smile on his face.  He was so proud of himself.  And honestly, even though I was horrified, I was proud of him too.  Ben, who is only 9 years old, had done exactly what he needed to do.  This all happened as he was walking out to meet me.  And when he did get in the car he was 132!  He had taken the perfect amount of tabs, 2.5.

So today I end my day, in awe of my son, and just a little (teeny tiny bit) less nervous about tomorrow.

I believe in Angels

I have always believed in angels.  When I was young I believed cute winged cherubs were buzzing around me always protecting me.  As I grew older my visions of angels slowly changed.  No longer did I dream of baby cherubs.  Instead I have come to realize that God’s messengers actually live among us.  And there is one living in my home town, working in our elementary school, taking care of our children.  Her name is Mrs. L, our school nurse.

I have written about Mrs. L in several of my posts.  I have chronicled how she helped Ben return back to school after his diagnosis, and how she guided Jeff and me through that process.  For three years she has lovingly taken care of Ben, through 1^st grade when he was first diagnosed, through 2^nd grade when he transitioned to the pump, and now through 3^rd grade.

Before every school year I gave Mrs. L Ben’s official doctor’s orders.  The orders note when Ben must be checked and how much insulin or carbs Ben would need to correct a glucose number that is out of range.  But Mrs. L did so much more for Ben beyond these scheduled glucose checks.

When Ben begged me to not pack his lunch and let him buy the school lunch with his friends, Mrs. L agreed to help Ben count his lunch carbs everyday.  Mrs. L along with the angels who work in the school cafeteria (yes, there are angel lunch ladies too) checked nutrition labels and researched online the carb counts for every school lunch served.  Mrs. L would negotiate with Ben (which is no easy task) whether he should have regular milk or a chocolate milk with his lunch each day.

Mrs. L patiently took care of Ben when he was low.  She would call me at the office to discuss how many carbs to give him.  Then Ben and Mrs. L would chat about the Bruins or the Red Sox while they waited the obligatory 15 minutes before they could retest.  Mrs. L was able to turn this annoying and painful wait into the highlight of Ben’s day. 

Ben loved the time he spent with Mrs. L.  But now the school year has come to an end.  Ben is leaving Mrs. L and his elementary school.  Next year he will start 4^th grade at a new school with a new school nurse.  The last day of school Ben gave Mrs. L a thank you gift.  He picked out a Bruins’ iphone case and wrote her a lovely letter.  He ended the letter with this quote:

“I will miss you more than the Bruins will miss the Stanley Cup!”

I am certain that is true for both Ben and me.  Since Ben’s diagnosis my life has been full of worry.  But when Ben was at school I didn’t worry!  I knew that God’s angel was taking care of Ben.  And for that I will be eternally grateful.

Fear

Being a D-mom you learn to live with fear.  It’s like a drippy faucet, every drip is that quick pang of fear you feel during the day.

Drip …

In the morning when I wake Ben to get ready for school and he doesn’t move … Oh God, did he have a life ending low last night?  Then I shake him and he slaps me to go away … Ah, he is ok.

Drip …

While I am in a meeting at work and my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket, I see the call is from the school nurse … Oh God, is Ben dangerously low? … I answer the phone and Ben is low before lunch so we need to decide how many glucose tabs he should have before the nurse lets him leave her office.

Drip …

After school Ben is playing knee hockey in the basement with his brothers, he comes upstairs crying and angry about some hockey injustice … Oh God, is he crashing from all that exercise? … I try to calm him down while checking his blood sugar.  No, his blood sugar is good; he is just being poor sport!

As a D-mom you are faced with these fears constantly, but you learn how to pause, assess the situation, and then correct it.  With time I have become better at handling these daily challenges and then quickly move on.  The drippy faucet isn’t actually breaking anything it’s more just an annoyance.

But then occasionally at times, it starts to feel like someone turned the faucet on and then didn’t shut it off all the way.  The faucet is no longer dripping it’s turned into a steadier trickle.

This trickle started for me last weekend, when I read a post on Facebook.  Someone posted a link to an article about JDRF.  (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/riva-greenberg/jdrf-diabetes-ad_b_1083606.html)  The article stated that 1 out of 20 Type 1 diabetics die from hypoglycemia.  Good God that is 5%!  That may not sound like an alarming percentage except that your chances of being diagnosed with T1 in the first place are only 1 out of 100, or .01%.  So the odds already are not working in our favor.  Ugh! 

Later in the week I read a blog written by a young woman who has lived most of her life with T1, titled “What they don’t want to know.” (http://www.thebuttercompartment.com/) In it she describes some of the more unpleasant complications she has suffered because of T1, which include: diabetic mastopathy, yeast infections, and diabetic diarrhea.  The blog made me realize that there were so many more complications that I was not aware of.  I won’t explain these in detail, but do note, the last one ends with diarrhea!  I have mostly worried about heart disease, blindness and losing toes.  Apparently this was far from a complete list!  Most of my daily fears focus on low blood sugars.  This blog was a reminder about how I can not forget about the affects of high blood sugars.  Ugh!

Then Wednesday night, Ben had a baseball game.  We check Ben’s blood sugar before the game and then again after the 4^th inning.  The other parents in the stands have witnessed this ritual this all season.  Luckily we have avoided any dramatic lows.  This game was a playoff game which unfortunately, Ben’s team lost.  It was a close game and after there were many sad faces.  To cheer up the kids the coaches invited the kids to the local ice cream stand for an end of year celebration.  While I was watching the kids eat their ice cream and play “red light green light” in the parking lot one of Ben’s teammate’s grandparents approached me and starting asking some questions about Ben’s diabetes.  We chatted for a few minutes and then she tells me that her sister had Type 1 diabetes and died when she was 42.  She then goes on to tell me how she suffered horrible complications.  She told me some story about her having a surgery where she had to move veins around.  At this point, I was no longer following what she was saying.  I was just watching Ben run around the parking lot laughing and playing with his friends.

The water from the faucet was no longer a trickle; this grandmother had just fully turned on both the hot and cold water!

I feel a wave of fear overtake me!  When I start to feel this way it becomes difficult for me to move on.  All my super D-mom coping skills have disappeared!

On Thursday, I still felt that pit of fear in my belly.  I tell myself (I do a lot of chatting in my head) that I need to turn this emotion into motion and let it all go.  I need to unclog that drain.  So I decide to go for a run.

While running, I think of the grandmother.  I slowly realize she wasn’t trying to scare the crap out of me!  I think she was just telling me the story about her sister that she loved and lost because she was sad.  She was just looking for some empathy.  So I convince myself there is no reason to believe that Ben will suffer a similar fate.  He fortunately has access to more advanced technologies and insulin.  He isn’t going to become one of the 5% who die from hypoglycemia.  Not under my watch!  He isn’t going to suffer from too many horrible complications.  We are taking good care of him and teaching him how to take care of himself.  I don’t know if this is all true, but it’s enough to help me move on.  By the end of my run, the pit in my stomach is gone.

I have regained my super D-mom coping skills! 

I have managed to shut that faucet off! 

And now today as I type up this story my cell phone just started vibrating … it’s the school nurse … but I am ok … today the faucet is just dripping.

 Drip … Drip … Drip …