Kryptonite

You were “Super Robot Guy” again this evening (you have been for days). I guess the transformation occurred while Sis and I were at Gymnastics. You’re the only Super hero I know that stops mid-mission to give kisses. 

Tonight’s been rough. I guess it started once you shed your “Super Robot Guy” attire. If I had super powers I’d protect you from what just happened. I’d fight that stupid Lex- Luther- pancreas of yours and show him whose boss. He’s done nothing but plot your demise since he quit functioning over a year ago.

Everyone is hard to love sometimes… even super heroes. I had to remind myself of this tonight when the incident occurred… that it’s not really you… you’re not really in control… it’s the diabetes… and I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it from happening. I’m sorry your bloodsugars were so high that it made you sick. I’m sorry that during hyperglycemic episodes you are altered from a strong, kind-hearted hero to an angry, wrathful fit-throwing villain.

I know you won’t remember screaming. You will forget yelling at Daddy telling him to “just leave” “just go away.” I won’t make you feel bad for hitting and swatting me… for shouting “NO MOMMY… NO TOUCH…NO TOUCH ME… NO KISS ME… NO TOUCH ME” and shattering my heart into a million pieces because other than giving you insulin it’s my only means of comforting you. “

When you wake up in a few hours- you’ll ask if you can be “Super Robot Guy” and you know of course, I’ll say yes. You’ll run around the house pretending to be “super strong” and “super tough.” We will play the game we play every single day - “Super Robot Guy” saves “Super Mommy”and when we do, I’ll try not to think about what happened… how I couldn’t save you from getting sick tonight… how I can’t always shield you from the highs and lows that seem to hit you from all angles outta nowhere and for no reason.

I’ll tie my cape a little tighter tomorrow… and maybe for a few hours I’ll pretend to fight criminals instead of diabetes. 

Adventures in Babysitting

“But I SWEAR…. I’m GREAT with KIDS! They love me… kids LOVE me.”

 

I had this dream the other night where I was sitting in an interview and I found myself passionately arguing the above phrase to folks who appeared to be my apparent (and what I considered to be *in a desperately hopeful/please God give me this job/It’s what I was destined to do/I need money… please… the money) future employers.

Sure… I woke up and immediately started dissecting.

*Is it a sign?

*Am I re-defining myself?

*Missing my kiddos at school?

*Am I having single-income nightmares?

 

Flash forward to this morning.

You know… a typical morning filled with this.

 

And this.

 

Wonderful moments of learning, growth & development that I get to witness in not just my child- but another as well… doubly blessed.

And then.

 

I go to the bathroom.

 

For 2 seconds.

 

Make that 3… cause I stupidly decided to “tidy up” (aka hang up a towel).

 

I hear Saul… “Uh-oh Mommy…. Uh-oh.”

 

I open the door and find that Saul is now sporting (a failed mind you) purple paint goatee.

 

I walk into the kitchen and find Trip wedged between the table and chair helping himself to a bag of pretzels (oh… and also adorned in some warrior-like face paint) (and… now sporting some lovely dyed purple hair).

 

 I see this… which will no doubt cause a meltdown of epic proportions when discovered by Harper… and before you think… or say it… she will find out. She’s that kid.

 

I see this (though I’m sure you’ll agree with me that the spilled paint is small fries in comparison to the amount of dog hair on that slip cover- so yeah… maybe that was a good thing).

 

And best yet…

There’s my poor, sweet Daisy girl.

Head hung low, tail tucked… embarrassed to be associated with the culprits… clearly a victim in this case.

 

Me: “Boy’s… WHO DID IT?”

Trip: “Sauce.” (aka Saul)

Saul: in a quiet, sad tone “meeeeee…….”

Me: “Trip did you have any part in this?”

Trip: “I’s eattin Mommy… I’s eattin.”

Saul: “is meeee… Mommy… is meeeee”

 

Ah… if only we retained our innocence and ability to accept and admit fault throughout adulthood.

 

But really… I swear… I’m great with kids… really… I am…

Just pics today

Yesterday we spent (nearly) the entire day outside. It was warm. It was muddy. It was awesome.

There's nothing better than good weather and great friends.
 

 

 

 

 

 

I beg you... please read.

* Disclaimer- I am not a Dr. or a CDE... just a Type 1 mom with a Type 1 toddler.

When you have Type 1 you must constantly balance/manage/control your blood sugar levels. Your Endocrinologist gives you a "range" in which you must attempt to stay within. You (or someone) must take on this responsibility and perform the duties of a pancreas by controlling the amount of blood sugar in your body at all times. If you get out of range... blood sugars rise too high (hyperglycemia)- (consistently high blood sugars lead to long-term complications- damage to kidneys, eyes, heart, amputations) or if blood sugars drop too low (hypoglycemia) you will die.
 

Before I had a toddler with Type 1... and even in the hospital at diagnosis, I honestly thought... "ah... it's just diabetes." I know that so many of you out there think this as well... I'm ashamed to admit that I taught students (both sweet elementary babies and high school young adults) who were Type 1 and I never really gave much thought to how I would handle a hypoglycemic episode if it happened in class. I didn't think Type 1 was a big deal, because I didn’t know. Because I watched my Granddad live with Type 2 and thought that Type 1 and Type 2 were basically the same. Because I thought diabetes was about "sugar free foods" and "weight loss" about "finger sticks" and "insulin injections” not about having to save someone’s life in an emergency situation.


Saul has now had 3 “serious” hypoglycemic episodes. Because of the severity of the circumstances I feel the need to advocate and educate about hypoglycemia and what you do if you find yourself having to assist in a hypoglycemic episode.  


I can only speak for Saul- and how they have occurred thus far.


All of Saul’s “serious” hypos have taken place during “sleep.” 1- during his nap (you may recall that post- our first ambulance experience) and 2- during the wee hours of the morning (this post).

 
While Saul does wear a Continuous Glucose Monitor (a device with a cannula that stays in his skin and measures the amount of blood sugar in the interstitial fluid) the technology is not 100% accurate. The CGM is linked to his Insulin Pump (a device that is inserted – it has a steel needle which stays in place and provides both “long lasting insulin” (basal) as well as the insulin used to cover the carbohydrates he eats (bolus). The insulin pump must be operated by a human. Both the CGM and pump are just technological tools to help ease the difficulty in keeping a Type 1 “in range.” While I am appreciative and thankful for today’s medical advances and our family’s ability to acquire them…they are not fail proof… and they will not prevent death.

 
Managing Saul’s Type 1 is extremely difficult because of his age. His eating patterns, communication, growth, development, etc, etc, etc, only complicate controlling his blood sugar levels- therefore he is more prone to instability and at a greater risk for experiencing both hyper and hypoglycemia.

 
I will save hyperglycemia for a later post and focus efforts on hypos for this discussion.

 
There are numerous sites with hypoglycemic information and education out there. Here are two as starting points. 


Hypoglycemia Information
 
Hypoglycemia Information


The lowest hypo we have recorded for Saul has been a BG of 35.  Ironically he appeared “hypo-unaware” at the time. He was talking and playing and “acting” like normal Saul.  When he suddenly “fell down” I thought to myself “hmm… strange” and just happened to check him. His CGM read 110 at the time. We attempt to keep Saul between 100-200 (though he often runs higher). We “treat” at 70. So seeing a 110 on the MySentry (a large screen that shows CGM reading at all time) would “typically” be no cause for alarm.

 
During Saul’s severe hypo episodes (the 3 really bad ones) he exhibited the following symptoms.

• Heart palpitations/fast/pounding heart rate
• Sweating
• Acting aggressive (hitting, swatting)
• Convulsing
• Shaking/trembling
• Uncontrolled shouting/screaming  (it’s hard to describe this… but he did it both in terror “Stop” “Stop” and once it kind of went parallel with the aggression… or at least that’s how it seemed at the time)
• Dilated pupils
• Mental confusion/disoriented
• Seizures

 
Saul has never lost consciousness or gone into a coma.

 
We have not used glucagon (yet). Glucagon is a hormone secreted by the pancreas that raises blood glucose levels. Because a Type 1’s pancreas can no longer produce or secrete glucagon an injectable form is used in cases of severe hypoglycemia (when someone is unconscious). Glucagon should be carried at all times by Type 1 individuals. Saul’s glucagon is in a red case and must be mixed before injecting. We have been instructed by our Ped Endo to use glucagon if Saul has another terrible episode.

 
If you are ever with him (or any other Type 1) and you see hypoglycemic signs (again… Saul’s often hypo-unaware at this point so he cannot “tell you” how he feels you must watch for the symptoms and check his BG level)

 
You should follow these steps.

1.      Check BG with glucose meter.

2.      If 70 or below - treat the low with 15 grams of a fast acting carb (juice, skittles, cake gel, glucose gel or even table sugar if that’s all you’ve got).

3.      Wait 15 min and re-check BG level if still below 70, treat with another 15 carbs and re-check in 15 min.  

4.      If he is unable to swallow you can rub cake gel/glucose gel in his mouth

5.      If he’s unconscious you must administer glucagon.

Really- Saul’s hypos have been so bad we should have used glucagon… he choked and aspirated on juice during 2 of his hypos- which adds danger to an already dangerous situation. Also… skittles would be a really bad choice for treating a severe hypo.

 

We have been lucky so far to be able to get Saul out of his hypos fairly quickly. Obviously, preventing them is the ultimate goal- however, we’ve learned first- hand that even under the closest watch hypo’s can occur.

 

 I saw this on FB yesterday:

 "Type 1 diabetes is a continuous balancing act. Imagine trying to manually control your temperature or heart rate all day, every day. It must respond and change throughout the day, but not too high or too low or you die. That's exactly what people with Type 1 are doing with their blood sugar"

 

Type 1 is truly an on-going balancing act. It’s easy to forget that sometimes folks walking the tightrope might need a hand, or a net.

Oh 2013... I'm not going down without a fight.

As many of you know, 2012 was somewhat of a "difficult" year for the Grimes-Sebulsky family.

 

Not just my immediate family- but my extended family also faced a number of medical difficulties -including my Aunt's diagnosis and battle with breast cancer.

 

I had have high hopes for 2013... I'm working on my attitude and showing more gratitude. I'm trying to focus on positives and give back to all those who have given to me- because if 2012 taught me anything... it's that I was blessed to have received love, support, clothes, time, food, money, help and prayers. 2013 will be my year of reciprocation.

 

And... though the past two mornings have been extremely difficult for our family. I refuse to let diabetes take total control of our lives in 2013.

 

Saul has experienced two- severe hypoglycemic seizure-like episodes two mornings in a row.

 

I can only pray that none of my family or close friends ever witness what takes place- their hearts would break into a million pieces to see him suffering and so out of control. I feel for all the mothers and fathers of epileptic children who endure way more than what we have witnessed.

 

The first episode took place New Year’s Day. Jeff was asleep in our bedroom- EH and I asleep in the guest bedroom- Saul had gone to sleep in his bed. Jeff was the one who actually woke me up- yelling "Get in here! Come Quick!" Apparently he had heard Saul cry out... he looked in his bed, looked to see if he was with me, and was running through the house ... he found Saul lying face-down in the playroom- totally out of it.

 

Jeff and I both think lil Buddy was trying to treat his low by getting to his emergency juice on the back porch... but didn't make it. We didn’t use glucagon on him- got him up and able to drink juice- an hour later he was back to dino- dancing, car zooming and driving EH crazy.

 

This morning- (for me) - has been the worst episode to date. Jeff and I both rushed in to his bedroom to find him (either coming out of a little seizure like episode or getting ready to go into one). He was shaking uncontrollably, pupils fully dilated- he was out of it- but breathing, I held him while Jeff poured the juice down. Again- we didn't use glucagon... after 2 juices he stopped shaking and stopped crying out. After 1/4 cup of lucky charm marshmallows he was talking and laughing.

 

Because Jeff was here with me and we were dealing with it together... I think I was more upset and allowed myself to get more worked up and scared. I know this is ridiculous... but in the moment, when he has little to- no control over his body, and he sucks down a 15 carb juice in 15 seconds... I want to see immediate action... and well... it didn't happen this morning... and I just want control. I want to control him and control his body and his brain and well... I guess I should be more focused on my own actions and behaviors during a crisis situation.

 

I'm so curious how others handle seeing/witnessing/assisting hypo episodes. For the 3 (bad ones) he's had so far... I've held him and just repeated over and over "it's okay. it's okay. it's okay. it's okay."

The worst, and what sticks with me like some PTS experience is his crying/shouting/screaming out randomly "I'm SCARED!" and "STOP!" "STOP!" He's so terrified in the moment and it’s like he knows what’s happening, but doesn’t understand it- or how to stop it (not that he can) and it's so awful to watch him be frightened and not be able to help him.

 

But. You know what... He came out of it. He's okay. Daddy went to work. EH woke up. We've played dinos and cars and Let's go Fishin, and Hungry Hungry Hippos. We've watched Daniel Tiger and My Little Pony (yeah... I know... it's sad... he loves it). We've chased Daisy around the house, we've made 5 million messes, we've had a great day- despite diabetes trying to ruin it for us. We move on... We have fun. We live. That's how it's gonna be 2013... so get used to it.

Fa. la. la. la. laaaaa.... enough is enough.

Possible Blog Post Titles/Topics

 

Hospital Vacation:  

It was kinda like a special night away from home... except I spent it with a sick kid, slept on 5 inches of a bed, and wore puke-covered clothes for 10 hours straight.

 

The Feral Third:

Taken from a text I sent my friend Wayne, with regard to the thought of a "hypothetical" third Grimes-Sebulsky child... "Um. Yeah. At this point… it would be raised by wolves... or Harper... I’m not sure which would be worse..."

 

If you want him come and get him....

Taken from another text I sent out to close friends and family after debating whether or not to leave one of two -hysterical, fit-throwing children in the buggy at the store. "If anyone wants Saul... he'll be at the Hamburg Target, up front near the checkout... he's the obnoxious, screaming toddler in the middle of the meltdown… be prepared… it’s worse than Chernobyl… and he’s all yours for the taking." Apparently Mom was not amused.

 

35. 103. 101.

(No... those are not lucky lottery numbers). Last Sunday when I was the only "functioning" human in our house... I had a toddler with a BG of 35, a preschooler with a temperature of 103 and an out-of- commission-fevered husband whose temp checked in at 101.

 

WWJD?

Load up the sick, drop them off at the ER, and then quickly drive away or open a bottle of wine, partake of the entire contents, surrounded by the sick and needy.

 

2013

You will be better. I will be better. We will all be better in 2013.  

When life gets in the way of important things... like blogging.

I had such high hopes. Really. I did. (I always do).

And then… well…

Like everything else…  I somehow… just. don’t. get. things. done.

So much has happened in 2 weeks (most of it I can’t recall) due to my drug-induced-fog-like-state of being.

Finally, I broke down Tuesday morning, gave up and waved my white flag. After four  weeks of suffering through snot, sore throats, aches and chills (with none of my home (or OTC) remedies proving effective)- I called and got myself checked out by a “credible” medical professional and walked away with a script for Augmentin. Today makes day 3 of antibiotics and I finally feel like I’m half-way back to being “me.”

Tired of seeing a sad-snot-covered face, (Jeff really looked at me last week and said “yeah… our kid is that kid”) and listening to Harper hack herself to sleep each night, I broke down and took her to the Dr. as well. Tuesday made three weeks of misery for her…. she too, was put on an antibiotic.

 

I had so many plans for the month of November…. So many posts…. So many projects… So many ideas… I’ve spent the first 9 days of the month avoiding my computer, taking as many naps as possible, and accepting (and justifying) the fact that we currently reside in what should be- a condemned house.  The grog of medication and the pain from what can only be described as “the world’s worst sinus infection,” I laid in bed Tuesday and wondered if, and when, I should call “The Guinness Book of World Records.  This means the kids have been in survival mode.

Which.

Also.

Means.

That.

The following events have occurred….

*disclaimer* I would say that no children were harmed during this past week…. But, honestly… I can’t quite be sure of that.

1. On Tuesday it was just Saul and I. Somehow I managed to drift off (just for a minute I SWEAR.  I woke up to find Saul sitting on top of me with two suckers in his mouth. I looked on the floor and found 25 dog treats, Jeff’s guitar pic, a pair of Harpers panties; a tube of toothpaste, a tub of butter and 5 used dryer sheets. I’m not sure what transpired in the 5 minutes I fell asleep…. But I can assure you… Daisy (later in the afternoon) had some serious gastrointestinal issues and Saul (immediately following his candy raid) had some seriously high BG readings.

2. Somewhere between Tuesday night and Thursday morning I found piles of hair on the kitchen floor. Apparently EH helped herself to the “real scissors” and went ahead and gave herself a trim. The funny thing is… her hair looks so bad to begin with- you honestly can’t really tell… except for the fact she has “half-bangs.” literally. She has bangs on the right side but none on the left. I guess it could have been worse. When I questioned her, she got mad. She did the whole- one hand on the hip, head cock, head tilt, angry eye stare- and said… “Mom everybody knows bangs look great with a ponytail.”

Shall I continue with more stories? I guess you get the picture.

I had planned on doing a post about our first JDRF walk and the awesome team and supporters that braved the terribly cold, miserable weather to walk a few laps in honor of Saul and in hopes of a cure. No doubt that Sat morning only worsened my condition (and Harper’s as well). But I guess this is old news now.

I had planned on doing a post about our first “diabetic” Halloween. But I guess the excitement of Halloween is over and everyone’s already seen the kids’ costumes…. and… well… nobody really cares about Halloween in November, especially if your kid is diabetic… and ended up with sugar free candy and nuts. Lol.

I had planned on doing a post-a-day during the month of November because this month is “National Diabetes Awareness Month.” I was going to do a “fact” a day… or maybe “diabetic myth busters” or had even thought of encouraging you to “try to be a diabetic for a day” (you know… carb count and plan and weigh meals and factor in exercise and pretend to check your blood sugar… even through the night). Oh well… I guess I might be able to get a post or two in before Dec hits (but better not hold your breath).

I had planned on doing a post about Daylight Savings time and Diabetes… and how much I hate the two… and how diabetes complicates DLST even more… and how we still haven’t changed the clock on all the important diabetic devices… you know… the meter, MySentry, the pump… which can get really confusing… especially at night… and which I probably should be figuring out how to do now… instead of writing this stupid post…

I had planned on doing a post about the upcoming election/election results. Those of you who know me, know I’ve been awfully quiet about politics this go-around…. which is def. out of character for me.  I was gonna go all “COURTNEY GRIMES ON YOU”

I guess you know what they say…. “the best laid plans of mice and men….”

And speaking of rodents…. Harper has decided she is saving her “bird” money for a rabbit. However, anytime she brings the issue up Saul gets really mad and screams “NO TISSY. NO. MOUSE!!!!!”  and when you ask him what kind of pet he wants he says happily “Mouse!” Jeff has absolutely said “NO!” to this one… but because it kinda cracks me up, and I like to push buttons, I’ll occasionally bring it up between the three of them just to watch the aftermath.

So… there you have it… an update of the “D-days” over here at the Grimes-Sebulsky household… illness hasn’t stopped (or even slowed) the shenanigans. one. bit. at. all.

And I promise the next post will not have the following  ( . ) - …

Fall(ing)

Sure. We started the morning like this.

But we got those blood sugars up enough for some mid-morning shenanigans - as evidenced below.

 

 

I'll take falling leaves over falling blood sugars any day. 

 

 

Oh you know... Just a Monday Ramble.

I’m not sure if it was Mabel’s passing, crappy weather, or just a stint of the “blah’s” whatever the case- last week can best be summed up as “ugh.” I ended Friday night in the fetal position on the recliner… okay okay… not really… but the thought was tempting.

I had zero energy. Zero creativity.  I had 2 nights of sleeping through Saul’s 3 a.m. BG checks. Friday morning Saul was in DKA. I don’t have it confirmed by a medical professional- but I also don’t need the confirmation because I saw it with my own eyes.

According to the MySentry he ran in the 400 for at least 6 hours… whatever the cause - (kinked tubing? old insulin?) who knows… I nearly passed out when his ketone check was 3.3.

He was a beast. Oh… friends… when he’s high… he’s such a beast. And now that he’s learning to verbalize (which is what I've been wanting all along) … I find dealing with his highs and lows way more emotional (for me) -  instead of just screaming or crying… He actually uses angry, hateful words…. On Friday morning as I was attempting to pump fluids and insulin in him - he was swatting at me screaming “NO MOMMY! NO MOMMY!”  

It was all I could do... to keep myself from envisioning a “future me” wrangling a “future” 17 year old man-boy to the ground and forcing him to comply to my treatment demands… “Oh you’re gonna get this insulin punk… whether you want it or not … cause… “ I’M YOUR MAMA… and you don’t MESS WITH YOUR MAMA!!!!”””

I know it’s difficult when you’re diabetic and you go through these hypo and hyper episodes… I’ve heard/read about and witnessed (not just with Solly) so many T1’s not being fully aware of the behaviors they are exhibiting during highs and lows…. It still doesn’t make it any easier for me. During 2 of Saul’s “hyper” episodes last week I bolused a correction of insulin gave him fluids and then left him lying by himself in his crib… because that’s what he was demanding. Every offer to hold him, carry him, cuddle him, move him to the couch, recliner to watch TV or sit quietly was met with “NOOOOO!!!!” “ME BED!!!!!!!!” “NO MOMMY!!! NO MOMMY!!!” So I would patiently wait outside his bedroom door for Bruce Banner to make his appearance again and for The Hulk to disappear so that we could once again resume our daily lives.

I won’t lie… I would much rather treat lows than highs…. Even though the lows are scarier… a bit more dangerous… def. more urgent… treating highs is just flat out exhausting.

Our house continues to seem quieter with Mabel’s absence. 

While I know Saul’s DAD is not pet and will not be a pet… it has given us all something to look forward to, think about and anticipate.  Sebulsky and I have been trying to out-do each other on the clever scale… thinking up names for our DAD. Most service dogs are given “special names” sometimes related to their line of work. A lot of the great ones have already been used…. “Siren” “Radar” “Meter” “BG” “Tracker.” Jeff came up with one that we both really loved… but Saul has trouble saying it… so we put it on a “maybe” list. However- out of the blue this afternoon - I thought up the bestest name ever. Sebulsky has since confirmed that I am currently in 1^st place and we do, indeed have a “winner.” Since the boys are sleeping I can’t get Saul to practice saying it… so we’ll have to wait and see how it comes out of little Sollys mouth first before declaring success. Meanwhile, Harper insists on calling the dog “Leslie.” I’m not sure where she heard that name- or why she likes it… but she’s renamed all her stuffed animals that, and the random 3 hour pet turtle we kept in the yard a few weeks ago, and she anticipates naming her “future bird” Leslie… All I can think about is that crazy white-haired guy who used to make those stupid movies with O.J. Simpson… wasn’t his name Leslie?

Oh… and back to Harper… Saul (much to Sebulsky’s dismay and disapproval) calls her “Sissy” actually it’s more like “Tissy” which I think is cute… Jeff… not so much so. During Saul’s last site change (after the 2^nd change out in 24 hours) he started crying and then demanding “NO TISSY DO IT” “TISSY DO IT” when it came to inserting the needle. I asked Harper if she wanted to try and she said… “ah… I better just hold his hand.” Which she did… and then wiped the little drops of blood from his old site with a tissue, then gave his 25 hugs and kisses, then sat with him on the couch and watched and episode of “Little Einstein’s” she’s seen 35 times. While she is a bit rotten, a little mischievous, a lot manipulative and way to smart for her own good…. Most of the time she’s a pretty good “Tissy.”

 

I’ve officially rambled way more than publically allowed.

So… here’s to a better week…

I hope we can all find more laughter than tears and more smiles than frowns.

 

 

 

Eulogy

We were driving behind Mom and Dad on the way to the farm. I was reading the Herald Dispatch – Jeff was behind the wheel. I saw the ad- “AKC Basset Hound puppies 8 weeks old.” I begged. I pleaded. I promised. “We’re ready for this Sebulsky- I know we are.”

Jeff and I were 2 years into our relationship. That was 11 years ago.

We turned off the Hal Greer exit. Mom and Dad kept driving.

We turned around and drove straight to see you. I had already made up my mind. We were bringing home a baby basset hound puppy.

Your Mom and Dad were there. Just as fat, smelly and loveable as you…. And all those sweet, pudgy, rollie-pollie brothers and sisters of yours. I picked you out. We couldn’t take you home right away but we did come back and get you 2 weeks later. You rode home wrapped in a towel on my lap. I kissed you a thousand times in those 20 minutes.

Mabel was put to sleep a week ago today. October 4th, 2012. She was put to sleep on the Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi. I like to think that was no coincidence.

 

Our Mabel girl – the crazy, annoying, loud, smelly dog who I thought would live forever. Mabel- the dog with 9 lives. She escaped death on so many occasions Jeff and I eventually quit keeping count. Mabel- she taught us patience. She made us laugh... and cry... and scream... and occasionally yell explisitives.

Whether you loved her or hated her (and I know some of you fall into the latter category) you can not deny that she entertained you. Our family has so many hilarious- sometimes - disturbing memories of her. Whether it was her first "real" brush with death on July 4th at 10 weeks old eating rat poison at the farm- or her last "big adventure" when she went missing for nearly 24 hours only to be discovered at 2:30 a.m. stuck in our neighbors window well (on what happened to be one of the hottest days on record for the Central KY region).

Oh resilient Mabel... how many times did she brave Boone Ave? Our fat, old, basset hound with no eyes, waddling along the road- crossing un-godly traffic to get to the High School- no doubt in search of kids and food... her two favorite things. There was the time she got her head stuck in between porch rails- the time she ate the antique glass Christmas bulbs- the time she ate all our special Christmas Day monkey bread- the time she got attacked by the Curry dogs- the time she walked up Rt.152 with a slice of Ginos pizza in her mouth- the time (this summer) my best friend Lisa and I "rescued" her from the pound... so many stories- so many memories- so much love for one, crazy, stinky, hound dog who barked incessantly and covered our lives in hair and dog drool for years.

 

Our house has been eerily quiet since her passing. Sure we have Broni and Daisy as pets and that does help ease a bit of the loss. But they too, are grieving her absence.

 

I got the call from the vet’s office yesterday… “your package is ready for pick-up.” I now have the difficult task of bringing her remains (which we had cremated) home. I’m pretty sure she’d liked to have been buried at the farm- or maybe Ritter Park- or possibly GRC (where she often frequented).

 

Pets (especially ones like Mabel) aren’t always easy. They require a lot of effort- time- patience- love.

 

I firmly believe every kid should have the opportunity to experience life with a pet and I’m thankful ours got to with Mabel. Kids learn the responsibility of caring for another living creature. They learn empathy.

 

Jeff and I haven’t really talked much about Mabel’s passing. We each are finding closure in our own way.

 

I am comforted by Harper’s simple and optimistic explanation… “God wanted her in heaven so he could give her new eyeballs… that way she’ll see me when I get there.”

 

New Years Eve 2008 Mabel partying like a rockstar

Found this gem on my brothers flickr site.... it is a rarity.

Family photo 2006 or 2007?

Mabel: aka... the devil. The halloween costume she wore for years

After her first surgery... we called her "left eye lopez"

The "younger version"

Mabel in black and white

Her favorite pastime...

RIP Mabel girl. You will not be forgotten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

T1P

“How many times were you up last night?

“4”

“Yeah… me too… no... wait…. 5… I forgot that 4:30 check… to make sure her high came down.”

 

“Have you ever treated with quick sticks?”

 

“Grape juice works better than orange?

 

“I pack carb counts on post it notes in my son’s lunchbox”

 

“Powerade Zero… lots and lots of Powerade Zero.”

 

“How do you get your kid to hold still for CGM insertions?”

 

“Give me your list of top 10 low carb snacks”

If you’re a parent of a T1 kid and you meet other parents of T1 kids… the above is typically types of conversations that are shared. It’s fairly fascinating (or maybe it’s just the inner sociologist in me that finds it fascinating) that over the course of 9 months I have connected with so many T1 parents and each and every time the “meeting” follows a similar pattern.

There’s a ritual that occurs upon encountering (whether virtually or in person) other T1 parents. First, comes a huge sigh of relief, a  “wow… someone else like me.” Suddenly things like socio-economic status, race, gender, geography and political affiliations (if only for a short- temporary time) no longer matter. Whatever differences might set your family apart – might limit your encounter in any other situation are gone- you have one shared common identity… you are members of a community… the diabetic community.

Once contact is made with other T1 parents the questions/stories start.

“Pump or injections?”

“Humalog or Novolog?”

“Diagnosis Date/Diagnosis story

“Medtronic CGM or Dexcom?”

“How long have you been off work to care for your kid?”

“How do you handle school?”

“What’s in your 504?”

“A1C comparisons”

And then.… there’s always the scary story, either one from personal experience or one they’ve heard about (seizures, DKA, amputations).

Next the conversations take a turn towards tips/advice/suggestions… The “have you tried…” “Use this app.”  “Check this site.”  

As the shared commiserating comes to an end and the verbal exchange reaches closure and interesting thing happens.  In my short 9 month experience thus far this has proven to be the case each and every time.

Inevitably someone ends the discussion with

“Diabetes sucks”

“No one understands… I didn’t understand…..”

“I never knew it would be this bad…”

Which is followed by…

“It gets easier… it’s still difficult…. but it gets easier”

And after this one of us will say….

“Caring for a chronically ill child is hard, so emotionally and mentally exhausting…. But Thank God my child has Diabetes and not something far worse.”

Or

“It was so difficult to listen to the Doctor diagnosis our kid with a lifelong chronic illness… but could you imagine if it had been cancer?”

 

 

 

 

Some day’s diabetes takes over our family… but some days it doesn’t. Some nights I get 4 hours of sleep…but some nights I get a little more. I thank God every single day for what I have. I thank God every single day that with modern medicine, technology and education Jeff and I are capable of learning how to care for, manage and treat an unpredictable –crazy- chronic illness in a typical- unpredictable- crazy 2 year old toddler. I thank God that I get to stick him, and poke him multiple times a day to keep him alive and well. There are so many other mothers and fathers who would trade places with me in a heartbeat…. who would give anything to only have to wake up 4-5 times at night, who would love to know that by sticking their child 15 times a day with a needle it would save their life… parents who can’t say “my son will have a relatively healthy- normal childhood.” 

While I sometimes seek solace in cries of frustration and anger- I remind myself of others… my heart aches for mothers grieving as they watch their toddlers die of life threatening diseases. T1 parents keep it all in perspective. I keep it all in perspective. We should all just try to keep things in perspective.