Showing posts with label low blood sugar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label low blood sugar. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Tuesday begins ...

Tuesday begins
With super dad packing up boys
Driving them all to school
Mom slowly drags herself
Out of bed
And off to work I go

Busy, busy day in office
But find 5 minutes
To call grandparents
Ask to babysit
Tomorrow night
Dad and I want to see “Les Mis”
Yes?
Hooray!  Come by around 5:00
 
Busy, busy day continues
It’s already 4:00?!
Quickly pack up
Need to pick up boys at school

Racing to elevator
Cellphone vibrates in pocket
Hmmm, school nurse
Can’t be good news
What?! What?!
Did I just hear that?
Ben has no insulin left in his pump
Nothing at all?  Zero?
Nothing at all
By the way, Ben is over 400
I’ll be there in 20 minutes

Push elevator button 2 more times
Useless
Run downstairs instead
Shuffle feet quickly
Across icy parking lot
Slide straight into car door
BANG!  OUCH!
 
Now drive off wondering
How did that happened?
Where did all Ben’s insulin go?
Coughing, coughing for days
Can’t keep blood sugars down
Needed more and more insulin
Never used so much insulin before

Pull into school parking lot
Less icy here
Must have used lots of salt
Safely arrive in nurse’s office
Without another BANG

Nurse hands me brown paper bag
Pull out reservoir
Pull out tubing
Pull out IV prep
Chat about diabetes camp
Prime pump
Pinch cheeks
Stab
OUCH!
Sorry!

Nurse politely suggests
Recheck Ben
104 now
What?! What?!
Lowest number in days
OK boys, let’s get home

Safely make it back to car, again
Drive home
Boys chatting
Tomorrow is Ben’s first play
Tomorrow Abu and Grampy coming to sit
Dad and I get to see “Les Mis”

Finally home
Boys blanket kitchen table with backpacks and books
Please make room for a plate and fork
Garren with headphones
Ben lying down on bench
Ben crying about homework
“I hate math!”

Open frig
Leftover rice
Scramble eggs
Frozen peas
Worry Ben needs to eat ASAP
Was 400 then 100 … too fast

As I nuke peas
Watch “Les Mis” concert on iPad
Sing
Certain I sound as great as Fontine
Ben whines
Maybe not

Assemble dinner plates
Suggest Ben check BG now
Finish crying about horrible division worksheet
Check
37 flashes on screen
Mom, I am Patrice Bergeron
Places face in folded hands
Sobs
Eats 3 glucose tabs
Set kitchen timer for 15 minutes
And put dinner plates back on kitchen counter

Waiting
Listening
iPad still playing
“Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the songs of angry men”
With face buried in his arms
Ben pounds the table
Then declares
“I wish I could drag diabetes out of my body
And then with a with a big fat knife stab it to death”
Startled
WOW!
Violent
Then reconsider
I wish that too

Wait some more
Ben continues quietly pound the table with fist
Need to distract
“You know who would appreciate your murderous diabetes ways?”
Nick Jonas
He is singing right now
Bring iPad over
We wonder if he is hiding a pump under his fancy costume
We wonder if he checked his BG before he got on stage
We both decide 150 would be a good number
We watch him sing
Eponine is dying
Ben says, “Sooooo sad … but so beautiful.”

Buzz ... Buzz ... Buzz
Kitchen alarm
Time to recheck
115
Yeah!
Time to eat

Place cold dinner plates on kitchen table
Garren finally takes headphones off
Asks what we are listening to
Ben digs into his plate ravenously
Walk to sink
Start scrubbing pans
Listen to more songs about french revolution
Remember Ben’s comment
So sad but so beautiful
He is exactly right
Just like Nick Jonas
So sad but so beautiful
Just like my baby, Ben
 
Lost in thought
Suddenly, more fist pounding on table
Startled
I turn
“Mom!  I hate math!”

 

If you made it this far … thanks for reading!   My very first “poem” (note the quotes) was inspired by Sharon Creech’s book, Love that Dog.  Ms. Creech please  forgive me.  I know it’s horrible … but it sure was fun to write.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

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.

Friday, June 8, 2012

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 4th 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 …

Monday, May 21, 2012

What it means to be a T1 family

During the summer of 2010 Ben was still in his honeymoon.  He was still requiring very little insulin and his daily injections were down to just two shots a day.  Even though I secretly hoped that Ben had experienced a diabetic miracle and was actually cured, my logical brain new better.  I understood that his honeymoon would likely come to a quick dramatic end and I wanted to be well prepared this time.  I became obsessed with learning as much as I could about Type 1, how the pancreas worked, and how I could best support Ben.  I filled my Amazon.com shopping cart with every book that had pancreas in the title.  I also searched the Internet for blogs and support groups.  I eventually stumbled upon the Children With Diabetes (CWD) Web site.

CWD is a Web site that was started by a father of a Type 1 child who was searching for support in the same way I was.  Over the years the Web site grew into a substantial support group.  The support group then started an annual conference.  The annual conference turned into multiple conferences and then went international.  Apparently, I was not the only confused, desperate and isolated parent, there seemed to be a whole wide world of us.  I found there was a conference in Orlando over the 4th of July week.  With a lot of whining (which I am expert at) I was able to convince Jeff that we should take the whole family to the conference.  This was an expensive proposition but my arguments had been convincing enough that Jeff agreed we would dig and find the money.

Jeff works at a private boy’s school.  The school has a special fund set aside that they use to award summer travel grants to the teachers and faculty.  Jeff submitted and application for a travel grant to fund our trip to the CWD conference, and it was approved!  (Thank you, Fenn, for your generosity and support.)  The grant was a huge gift.  We had plenty to worry about, so it was a pleasant relief to at least not worry about the cost of the trip.

We registered for the CWD conference in April.  As part of the registration process we were added to a CWD mailgroup.  Parents posted all sorts of questions to the group.  People asked about how to handle airport security; were there refrigerators in the rooms to store insulin; and tons of questions about how to handle the heat and sun at the amusement parks.  The questions about airport security and the flights I understood.  I had already worried about that!  The questions about storing insulin I understood.  I had already worried about that too!  But I had not previously been concerned about sun and heat.  I had not read anything about this in all my Amazon.com books.  I had not seen any references to that on the Internet either.  But I kept reading the same question.  There were lengthy discussions about how to get guest-assistance passes at the theme parks.  These passes allow the guests to avoid standing in long hot lines along with other accommodations.  Because I am such an (admittedly arrogant) skeptic I was convinced these parents were being high-maintenance and over-protective.  I was beginning to question whether this conference was going to be a good thing for our family.  But I had whined so much about how we needed to go I was not now willing to tell Jeff maybe I was wrong and I had changed my mind.

After school was done in June, we packed our suitcases, extra bags of food, and a backpack full of vials of insulin, syringes, glucose meter (pricker), test strips and lancets (including back ups of our back ups).  Luckily, we had no troubles getting through security.  Our flight was uneventful and we made it to our hotel in Orlando without any of the drama I had worried about back in November when I cancelled our Thanksgiving trip.

The conference started the following day with a motivational speech by Jay Hewitt (an Ironman triathlete with Type 1 diabetes.)  The boys attended groups designed specifically for their ages, including Ben along with his pricker.  We were assured that Ben would be well taken care of and we could attend our sessions worry free.  So Jeff and I left the boys (though not completely worry free) and attended as many sessions as we could.  We split up in the hope that we could maximize the information we could cover.  Jeff and I were overwhelmed.  I went from a session on pump technology to a session about exercise physiology to a session about the emotional development of a child with Type 1.

At noon we all meet up again for lunch.  CWD presented lunch buffet style.  Everything was labeled with its serving size and carb counts.  We did not have to spend 20 minutes before we could eat shifting through books and reading nutrition labels trying to figure out how many carbs Ben was going to eat.  We (almost) felt normal again.  Once we entered the dining hall to sit and eat, we saw hundreds of people, many of which were pricking their fingers, talking about carb counts, taking insulin injects or entering numbers into pumps.  Now we really felt normal.

We spent three days at the hotel attending the conference.  Our brains were overloaded.  We had learned a lot and we had been inspired, but now it was time for some family fun.  The boys decided they wanted to go to Universal Studios.  Garren and Cole are roller coaster fanatics.  And Ben was equally excited to visit the new Harry Potter World.

When we arrived at the park, Garren, Cole and I immediately headed toward the Hollywood Rip Ride Rocket.  Jeff and Ben had no interest in riding any roller coasters, so they waited outside for us.  I soon discovered that Jeff and Ben had made the wise choice.  I have always loved roller coasters but I had not ridden on one of the new super-fast roller coasters.  I was apprehensive, but at the time I felt that a parent should accompany the boys.  I quickly regretted that decision as my brain was knocked around my skull at a very high speed.  I am quite certain I got a concussion on that roller coaster!  After the ride was over and I was able to think again, I decided the boys were on their own for the rest of the day.  I figured if anything horrible were to happen to the boys on a roller coaster  there would be no way for me to protect them while I was being whipped around at an hypersonic rate of speed.  My plan for the rest of the day was to stand outside the ride and pray for the boys’ safety.

After the ride we meet up with Jeff and Ben again and we were all smiles of excitement (I was just happy I had survived), but we were not greeted with the same enthusiasm.  I believe Jeff and Ben waited no more then 30 minutes for us. The line went fairly quickly because it was still early in the day.   Jeff was hot and bored from the wait, but Ben seemed even more grumpy then Jeff.  I sensed Ben was off.  So before we walked to the next ride we stopped to check Ben’s blood sugar.  Ben was very, very angry now and he did not want us to touch him.  Jeff had to hold him while I pricked his finger.  The meter did its slow count down … 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … 23!  Oh God!  We had never seen a number that low.  I was certain I was about to throw up.  I am not sure if the nausea was from the head-banging rollercoaster ride or from the shock of such a low glucose reading! We quickly gave Ben some new glucose tabs we had picked up at the conference.  And we waited.  Soon Ben was no longer angry but had become weepy and sad.  I held him and we checked him again … 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 … 30!  Oh God!   Here we go again.  It took an hour to get Ben’s numbers back in line.  During that time, both Jeff and I were quietly panicking.  Garren and Cole were equally concerned.  But we all tried to remain as calm as possible because no one wanted to upset Ben anymore then he already was.  Once Ben’s meter finally read a number back in range, we all sighed in relief.

Jeff and I had not anticipated such a quick dramatic drop in Ben’s blood sugar.  He had eaten all his necessary carbs for breakfast.  Every episode of low blood sugar is followed by a guessing game.  Jeff suggests one possible cause, and I follow with another.  Sometimes this game ends with no answers and shrug of the shoulders.  But this time Jeff and I agreed that the cause was likely the sun and heat.  Seems the CWD parents were on to something. 

After everyone felt better we continued on with our day.  We all kept a very close eye on Ben.  It was a long hot day.  Garren and Cole rode every crazy rollercoaster they could (by themselves).  Ben attempted to walk through the new Harry Potter World, but it was so overcrowded that we ended up leaving without being able to ride a single ride.  Ben was heart broken.  By the end of the day, Ben was exhausted, disappointed and miserable.  On our way out of the park we stumbled across some arcade games.  The boys begged us for some extra money so they could play one of the games.  They convinced Ben to play too.  The game was one that you sprayed water guns on a target which pushed your horse along a track in attempt to win the horse race.  The three boys lined up, they were ready to race and we cheered them on.

(I took very few photos that day at the park, but I did take some of this race.  I have included them here.)




Garren and Cole were fighting back and forth for first place.  But as the race was ending Ben quickly caught up and won.  Ben won a pink bunny rabbit and finally he was smiling and laughing!

Later that evening, I asked Garren and Cole if they had let Ben win.  Garren and Cole both admitted they had.  I then asked if they had agreed to do that before the race.  And they both said, “No.”  I smiled.  Without a suggestion from Jeff or me and without a word spoken between them they both decided that they wanted Ben to win.  They wanted Ben to be happy.  My heart was full.  I hope when Ben reads this story he isn’t disappointed.  Instead I hope Ben realizes he won so much more then a race and a stuffed animal that day.

We learned a lot this week in Florida.  We had learned about many technical aspects about diabetes.  We learned how to travel with diabetes.  But more importantly we learned what it means to be a T1 parent.  We learned that there is NO such thing as a high-maintenance, over-protective T1 parent!  You can listen to doctors and read books but they can not tell you everything you need to know.  There are all sorts of new technologies and fast acting insulins that allow us to more precisely manage glucose levels.   But there are so many outside factors that affect your T1 child’s blood sugar; how much exercise they had the day before, how much sleep they got over night, how excited they are, how nervous they are, how much exercise they are getting today … and we can now add to the list … how hot it is outside!  Judging the potential affects of these factors become the job of mom and dad.  As a T1 parent you must always remain vigilant.  Only with time and experience can you learn what works for your T1 child.

We also learned T1 siblings have their own struggles.  They watch their sibling test their blood sugar and count carbs.  They watch their sibling suffer low and high blood sugars.  They watch their parents stress and worry.  We learned that Garren and Cole are just as scared as we are when Ben is struggling with a low.  We learned what it means to be T1 brother.  And Ben is lucky to have two of the best!