Surviving.

For the past few days I’ve had this image in my head of miniature people all huddled around me on a stage shouting “POST! POST! POST! POST!” In reality I know there may be 2 or 3 people curious about this blog and interested in what’s been going on with Solly. But hey… I’ll keep that image going for just awhile longer. Haha.

The basics - as I’m sure you’ve gathered from FB-  is that Saul is now officially on insulin pump therapy as of last Thursday. I’ve given one insulin injection (yesterday) to correct and I must say that I don’t miss that old fun AT. ALL.  

Because no Grimes birthday  (or holiday for that matter) is ever complete without  drama I ended up getting my fair share late last night… which is typically how it works for us… you know… the weekend sickness phenomenon… the accident/disaster  prone holiday’s… luckily- thanks to Jennifer and a UK ped’s Dr. on call (sorry dude for getting you out of your warm, snuggly bed at 2:00 a.m. to talk me through a pumping crisis… do know… it was much appreciated)…. we all survived the catastrophe and was even spared a trip to the ER.

 I think if you’d ask Jeff he’d say he’s still not sold on the pump (especially after last night). We’ve had to work through a number of “kinks” in the past 5-6 days and it has most def. proven to be a learning curve…. on top of managing a new regiment with a toddler.  Despite the literal “highs” and “lows” I am still holding firm that pump therapy is the absolute best treatment for Saul…. even if it is mentally, physically and (emotionally) difficult on us at the moment.

I am learning (thanks to Jennifer our nurse and Ashley my FB diabetic counselor) that I will never get constant “perfect” BG numbers…. I think this is difficult for me because I feel like I’m in constant battle to achieve this… and because I’m competitive. and because I don’t handle defeat gracefully… (especially when it comes to losing to a stupid- broke-down -dead- beat pancreas.        ....… and because really… what I think in my head- is that I’m jeopardizing Saul’s overall, long- term health every time I see a number over 250 or below 70. Which in turn makes me even more crazy competitive and then I start taking it all personal- spinning into a cycle of madness that I won’t even get into in this post for fear someone might have me committed. (After reading those sentences someone SHOULD committ me for GRAMMAR FRAUD... but I'm tired... so look over it all. LOL) I seriously fell asleep last night to thoughts of me dodging punches from a  lima bean like organ… his ugly face smiling at me…  too lazy to do his job… but not to lazy to take a few swings at me every now and then.  I think I might have said out loud something along the lines of “Oh I’ll get you… you ugly thing… you better get that no good ugly face away from me” at which point Sebulsky shook me and said… you can always sleep on the couch.

When you’re the parent of a child with a chronic illness you live with a certain amount of guilt- there’s nothing anyone can say to you that makes it any better and on some level you know people are right when they tell you “it’s not your fault” but it doesn’t matter because you will always spend the rest of your life wondering “if” “why” “how.”

Compound this existing guilt with the guilt you feel when you make an incredibly stupid medical mistake and put your already at risk toddlers life in a “crisis” situation…  and that’s how I ended my 35^th birthday. During a nightly pre-bath check of Saul’s tubing I noticed blood. We immediately changed the set. Because set changes are extremely stressful- I’ll let you imagine on your own what it’s like with an 18 month old…  to say “we’re stressed” is an understatement. Even though Sebulsky and I do it together (because it’s a two person job and because we rely on each other’s moral support) we somehow managed…. WITH 2 sets of directions in front of us… to mess up royally last night by skipping a step in the process.  Our mistake resulted in us “overdosing” Saul on insulin at 9 pm last night. I can tell you…. our timing is always impeccable. We spent the next 5. Yes. 5 hours. 5 HOURS!…. checking his BG every 20 min and treating lows… finally at 2:10a.m I called the emergency line and requested the Dr. on call who was like… “umm… so you suspended the pump right?”  and I was all “what? Crap? AHHH? Why didn’t I suspend the pump? Why didn’t I suspend the pump? I knew to suspend the pump? I’m really sorry!” “Why didn’t I suspend the pump?” “It’s just that… (insert the possibility of a little crying here) It’s just… I’m really stressed… I’m really tired…. It’s like 2 am” “I’m so embarrassed” “Why didn’t I suspend the pump?” At which point the Dr said…. “So you’re suspending the pump now.. . as we speak, right?” And I’m all “No… I need to suspend the pump!!!” “I should have suspended the pump!!!”

(Okay so I think that’s how the conversation went but because I was delirious… and Jeff was holding down a screaming Saul and Little Einstein’s was blaring in the background and I’m sure Mabel was howling in the other room…. It all just kinda blends together).

But….

We survived.

I suspended the pump.

His numbers quickly went up.

I slept through 2 i-phone alarms set to wake me up to do follow up BG checks.

I did not bolus a BG of 332 at 5:22 a.m.

I overslept and woke up to Saul’s BG at 489… which I do believe has been the highest to date (minus our hospital stay).

And still….  

We survived.

I called and left UK a message explaining the situation.

I started texting Jennifer.

She drove an hour out of her way to come check on us… I’m pretty sure she did it more for me than for Saul … at any rate she adjusted some doses. She relieved my anxieties. She made me feel “normal.” She reassured my confidence. She offered to drive to my house and watch the kids so that Jeff and I could actually get out of the house and have someone fully confident in pediatric pump therapy watch Saul… you know so we could “take a breather.”

As she was going out the front door I mentally let out a huge sigh of relief.

Because….. I know…..  we will survive.

It will get easier.

We have amazing support.

And also because just as we were saying goodbye… Saul leapt out of Jeff’s arms (as if on cue) and gave Jennifer a genuine hug of appreciation. He doesn’t talk but I’m pretty sure that hug meant… “Thanks… this is from my Mom.”