There's no drama like diabetes drama... and I've got it.

I'm pretty sure if I didn't have two napping angels sound asleep in their cribs right now - I'd be screaming profanities at the top of my lungs and possibly throwing a few random objects.

I can't even describe how I feel. It's a mix of rage, anger, frustration, disappointment and helplessness... but really more rage and anger.

Coming off of Monday's seizure during naptime- I've been just a wee bit anxious about his numbers- especially since I'm not even sure how low he actually got- and am still confused by what happened and why it happened and how it happened and seriously... a BG reading of 105? what? that’s not low? so how? huh? really?

I have yet to "talk" to someone from UK. I was sent basal adjustments through an email which I've made- and which have helped... but honestly I felt better when I was running a temporary basal at 70% (even though it was causing him to run high, appear sick, lethargic and have higher than normal ketone readings).

The MySentry is located in the living room with the outpost in the hallway outside his bedroom. I slept on the couch last night so I could watch it. While I intended to do BG checks every 2 hour - I somehow managed to only check him 3 times between 11:00- 8:00. The CGM data shows him dropping (to below zero) between 1-8. As I told Dr. K today... my only true way of knowing an accurate reading is to check him every hour or two... but I'm not sure how long I can keep that up. I woke up this morning at 6:30 and felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to puke or punch someone when I saw the "silent" alert going off on the MySentry "low predicted." How do I deal with the guilt of him possibly having another seizure while I force my own body to shut down and rest... knowing I need it for my own mental health. 

The drama continued this morning. BG reading of 165 upon waking up. Exact carb count (weighing each and every bite of breakfast) a bolus of 11 carbs with a correction factor... 20 min later CGM alarm... 394. 5 min later Saul yelling "low" (though he was really high) because apparently the symptoms feel similar to him and he has a strong desire to eat and drink with both highs and lows... I correct the 394. 5 min later he wants a banana- I bolus. 5 min later he wants an applesauce pack- I bolus. An hour later I witness what I can only describe as "an out of body-mind flip out experience." My guru Ashley has talked to me about some of the behaviors that can happen with both highs and lows and apparently this was my first real witnessing of that. Generally I joke about Saul "hulk-ing" out with highs where he gets angry, mad and fussy... but what I saw today was something similar to the exorcist.... even I was scared. He started sweating profusely, his face got beet red. He started pounding his fists on the table then pounding himself on the face and head. I grabbed him and he swatted and hit me. He threw toys and a fork. I checked his BG it read 160. Bizarre I thought to myself... Maybe this is some crazy temper tantrum... but it came on outta nowhere- he wasn't provoked... he wasn't upset. It was random. I quickly grabbed the control solution and tried calibrating the meter. I checked again- same finger- BG 232. CGM giving no alerts. At this point I picked him up- much like I used to pick up our cat Broni after I’d attempt a bath. I sat him on the couch. I turned on Cars toons. Thank God for STARZ On-Demand and I walked away. He calmed himself down. I went and made lunch. Minutes later its like nothing had ever happened.

At 11:30 lunch was ready. He ate ham, not even 1 strawberry, not even half a Wasa cracker (5 carbs) , cream cheese, 2 grapes. BG 136. As he is eating CGM starts alerting it has him at 176 two arrows down. I decide not to bolus lunch. I mean... I'm scared if he's really dropping and getting ready to nap... don't want a repeat of Mon. He eats. He plays. CGM continues to alert "low predicted." I give him maybe 2 oz of milk... again... no bolus for it.. CGM alerting low... I lay him down in his crib. ----Every time I put him to sleep now I tell him "Saul you yell Mommy if you start feeling how... you yell for me... okay." -----He generally says "tay" then rolls over... waiting for me to leave. He prefers to sleep solo... believe me... I've tried forcing him to sleep with me for my own satisfaction and piece of mind.

Meanwhile... I'm slightly concerned about a problem that has actually been going on for quite some time. As in... I can't even remember the last time it "didn't" happen. It's become so commonplace that at some point it I assumed it was normal- though I know it's not. Saul can not manage to make it through a 2 hour nap without his diaper soaking through clothes and bed sheets. He gets changed every single day and sheets washed nearly every single day. He is changed at least once if not twice in the middle of the night for excessive urination. I realized today... we need to address this. If his BG's were high at night- it would make sense- his kidneys would be working overtime to excrete- but he's not running high... if anything he's running too low. I never check ketones at night because of this... yet he's urinating like he's running high BG's all night. I'm so used to the process of changing diapers, clothes, sheets that I don't even care it happens- I just need answers. The thought of his poor kidneys taking the brunt of diabetes is a bit too much for me right now to handle... so I'll just shelve that to the back of my brain file and move on.

Matter of fact... I'm going to just push all this to the side right now and go do some laundry... or clean my bathtub... or put away toys... or do anything that forces me to not think about diabetes.

Rainy Tuesday Thoughts.

So I woke up this morning and the first thing that came to mind was.

$&#%* wonder how much yesterday is gonna set us back.

We have insurance.

We both have employment (though I'm temporarily "not there").

It's a telling and sad state when the cost of health care in this country causes families to question treatment options because they are terrified of the cost.

The second thing that came to mind was.

Wow. The power and support of Love is overwhelming. I appreciate you. I thank you. I don't take any message, prayer or "good vibe" lightly. It's what helped me go to sleep last night. I imagined myself cradled by the love of friends and family... slowly rocking me to slumber.

The third thing that came to mind was.

How am I going to move every piece of furniture in the house to build an indoor fort for the boys today... I see lots of blankets, dinosaurs, trucks and trains in upcoming hours... oh and pillow fights... lots of good pillow fights.

This is what happened.

I heard the screams first... the gut-wrenching, blood-curdling sound of thrashing and terror. I came running down the hall. I had just put dinner in the fridge - "Firecracker Chicken" and "Collard Greens." I knew it was you. Trip stayed sound asleep. I saw the fear in your eyes and I froze. I saw you contorted, spasing and desperately trying to gain control of your body and mind. I wanted to run away because I was scared too but instead I immediately grabbed you. Your distorted fingers clamped onto me as I felt you thrust uncontrollably against me. I cried out your name. You couldn't respond. I ran through the house with you clinging onto me and grabbed your juice from the back room. I poured it all over your face. You choked and spit it up. I wept as I held you in my arms. You half cried-half vomited up the words "Uh-Oh" as your body jerked and twisted violently. You didn't know what was happening to you. I should have told you. I should have explained. You were scared. I was scared... all I could do was hold you and cry out. "It's okay Saul. It's okay Saul. It's okay Saul." I held you and with one hand dialed Daddy's number.... I think I yelled "emergency come home" but I'm not quite sure. I had to set you down on the couch to call 911... which frightened you even more. I promise I won't ever set you down again. You kept saying "uh-oh" each time you felt your body abnormally twinge and shudder. They asked me how long it lasted. I wanted to tell them a lifetime. I think it was a matter of minutes. Daddy witnessed the end of it. When we were able to check you... you were 105. I was confused. The EMT's were so nice. One told me his wife was Type 1. He let you look at all the cool knobs and gadgets on the equipment. You really liked the "glowing finger pulse reader thingy." They asked you what you liked and you smiled through your bop bop and replied "dump cars." When you felt better you played cars with them on the living room floor. One of the EMT's used your foot as a car ramp and jumped your favorite monster truck off your leg. You laughed out loud. I felt the same way I did the first time I ever heard you laugh. Then we talked about seizures. We went to the Emergency Room. The check-in lady laughed because you had a cell phone in your pocket... then apologized and said she was really sorry when I told her it was your insulin pump. She said she felt really sorry for you. I wanted to tell her not too- but at the time I felt sorry for you too and that made me sorry as well. Two different nurses asked if I was Type 1. I told them no. They said, well who in the family? I said you. They said how? I said "just lucky I guess." I wish you hadn't been so lucky. I wish I had better luck. I wish I had it. I wish I could take it away from you. I wish I had it with you so I would know what it's like- so I could better understand- take better care of you. Everyone at the hosptial of course loved you. You "marched" with the nurse around the Nurses’ Station. You blew kisses to the Dr's. I saw them crack smiles. Even the most serious of people sometime need a release. Your nurse went and found you a "present." She brought you a Cars puzzle. You said "McQueen" I always correct you and say "NO... RED NOT GREEN." All this time you've been saying McQueen and I thought you were saying green. It felt like a breakthrough. We tried watching TV. There were no kids shows. We looked at lots of buttons, do-dads, gizmos and thingy's on the bed. We destroyed the sheet. The Dr. said you would be okay. We didn't do CT Scans. He said you were way to low. I called UK immediately. I wanted to rip the pump off. I knew if I did we'd be back in the hospital with DKA. You kept saying "go go go go go" while the Dr. was talking to me. We left soon after. I asked if you remembered what happened when we were walking in the parking lot. You just smiled. I said do you remember the ambulance and you went "Nee-haw Nee-haw Nee-haw." I got in the car and felt a gush of tears flooding my facial cavity. I was afraid if I didn't close my eyes tight I might wash us away. I opened my eyes and the urge to cry was there but nothing came out. I drove home. You watched Bubble Guppies while I drove and I thought to myself... I have failed you.

Saul manages to score two awesome weekends in a row!

Last weekend was the dinosaur exhibit at the zoo.

This weekend was Touch-A-Truck at Keenland.

Can we even top the upcoming Labor Day weekend?

This was our first year at Touch-A-Truck and I gotta say... it was pretty awesome. I had read something somewhere about it online and then in the St. Agatha school newsletter they had a flyer for it. I told Sebulsky Thursday... just go ahead and pencil all day Sunday at Keenland...lol.

Cranes, Fire trucks, Hot Air Balloon, Race Cars, Mac Trucks, Helicopter... and so many more vehicles that I won't bother to bore you by listing. Free stuff GALORE... matchbox cars, hard hats, face-paintings, hair-paintings, tattoos, stickers, Hawaiian ice, bottled water.... okay... you get the picture... oh yeah and an inflatable bounce house thingy... which we had to bribe both kids to leave.

Despite blasting 90 degree weather and Saul running a BG of 495 after coming outta a low in the 50s (because he ate lunch an hour later than usual)... both kids had an absolute blast. Saul's favorites included the "crane" (which I begged him to get on but he refused) and sitting at the Explorium display with all the cars and trucks playing with other kids. Harper loved getting her face painted (she had waited patiently for what seemed like 5 hours) to get painted and when completed she agreed it was worth every bit of the wait. Sebulsky and I weren't really paying much attention as the lady was working on her.. but Harper told us as we were walking away that she said to her "you are my favorite "patient" (as Harper put it) of the day. You are so good and quiet and you hold still so well." She was pretty proud of herself for the compliment... telling us at least twice. After face-painting I encouraged (against Sebulsky's groans) to go have her hair painted pink.... which of course she did. I mean... come on... at this point a bath is inevitable.... might as well go all out.

I posted pics on instagram of Solly carrying around this baby doll. While he often takes interest in Harpers babies (and generally better care of them than her) yesterday he was in serious "daddy-babysitting-baby doll carrying" mode. The irony is... almost every other moment of his life (including naps and nighttime) you can find him carrying cars-trucks-and dinosaurs... and here we are at the ultimate car-truck event and he's dragging along this baby. In any case... he was down right sweet and adorable. He is the most loving child I have ever encountered... and I'm not just saying that cause he's mine... cause lord knows... when it comes to my kids I'll tell it like it is.

If you check out the pics take notice of how many shots "baby" is in... most of the time with Saul... but I found myself carrying the stupid thing around as well. At one point I had her strapped in the stroller. A little boy kept staring (as did countless other folks... no doubt questioning my sanity). He came over and said... can I talk to your baby? I looked at him and said "sure... you know it's a baby doll." He stared at me with a puzzled look on his face then finally said "huh?" and walked away. lol.

I just realized this post is the ultimate "Grimes-Ramble" so I will cut to the chase and give you a link to all the pics from this weekend. Sebulsky got some really good ones so be sure to check them out- oh and you'll also see some other shenanighans in there I'm sure.

www.flickr.com/photos/jefseb

I got a "high" from a low.

So last night started out pretty rough. Because I ridiculously feel the need to share my entire life on FB- I'm sure you've already heard all about my little "skillet incident." Needless to say- I will not be putting skillets in the oven for quite some time- no matter what a recipe calls for. Almost 15 hours later, all three fingers are "back to normal." What upset me the most (other than realizing my sheer stupidity in trying to pick up a hot skillet handle) was the fact that all the drama left me no time or energy to make this new "Cauliflower Mac & Cheese" recipe I'd been dying to try all week.

I pretty much was "done" by 6:15 pm.... forcing the family into pjs and mandating a "movie night." Instead, Sebulsky and I were treated to the absolute most hilarious hour and a half of our lives. Harper decided to entertain us with a "dance party performance" which was interrupted by Saul who came busting through doing what he called the "dinosaur dance" a combination of spinning in circles while roaring like a T-Rex and pretending to claw the air.

It was sometime between the 3rd degree burns and dance party that Saul recognized-  then-  treated himself for a low.

Somehow I didn't quite realize the monumental-ness of the event at the time and kinda passed it off as "aww so cute."

But. This. My. Friends. is HUGE. Like... really HUGE.

We were all sitting on the couch when Saul started whining. He kept it up- but because the CGM wasn't beeping we chocked his whininess up to wanting to watch Cars or play on the ipad and ignored him. We didn't think much when he hopped off the couch and ran into the other room. He came back a few minutes later chugging one of his "emergency juices" which he had gotten down by himself off the back shelf. He managed to pull the straw off the back of the juice box - push it in the hole and drink the entire contents while in route to the living room. He announced to us all "low" "low" "low." We immediately grabbed the meter and checked him. BG 41.

I was so elated with him that I kinda just forgot about that scary 41. I was happy that he recognized the feeling of being low - that he attempted to communicate it through whining (which we failed to realize) - and most importantly that he knew what to do - and did it. In essence- he administered his own "medication." At 22 months he treated his first low all by himself.

We praised him. We kissed him. We hugged him. We encouraged him. It was our first "big" step to self-advocating... an essential life skill for all kids- but especially for Saul.

A juice box, half a PB sandwich and a quarter of a banana later he was back to dinosaur dancing.

Small steps my friends... small steps.

Somebody’s got a case of the Wednesdays

So, I know you know this scene.

You know this one... from Office Space? Where the three of them are busting up that printer-thing? Kicking it... hitting it... smashing it...pouring out their rage, frustration and anger on it.

If you're like me- you've watched it a million times (more than likely on TBS) and even though now dated... it's a classic and will never get old...sorta like "Christmas Vacation .... but just in case you live in a bubble and have no idea what I speak of (uhh.. hm.. Ann Grimes) - I went ahead and embedded the link. Oh and note: PARENTAL DISCRETION ADVISED

Annnnnnnnnddddddddd.........that pretty much sums it up.

That scene has played over and over and over in my head since inserting Saul's stupid CGM this past Sunday morning.

I even went so far as to say in front of Harper last night in a moment of insanity (and in a hicky- redneck accent nonetheless) "I'm gonna bust that thing up."

I hate it. I HATE it. I haaaaaattttttteeeeeee it. I hate it for sooooo many reasons.

1. It sucks.

2. It doesn't work.

3. Inserting a stupid giant-darning needle 2 inches from the belly button of a screaming toddler is ridiculous.... especially when it doesn't work... and always always bleeds... no matter how many times I follow the 45 degree angle "then tilt just a little cause he's so tiny maneuver".

4. It sucks.

5. The amount of tegaderm and now drape dressing it takes to keep that sucka where it needs to be is even more ridiculous than the process of inserting it.

6. It doesn't work.

7. It makes my kid wear overalls 24-7 (okay... maybe this isn't so bad...he's pretty adorable in them).

8. It sucks.

9. The incessant beeeeeeping... the beeping... dear God the beeping.... the never... ever.... ever... ending... beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeping... through the day.... through the night.... it never. ever. ever. stops.

10. It doesn't work... oh... and it sucks.

I keep telling myself to stick with it. I try tweaking ranges. I try changing sites. I try adjusting my attitude. And folks... I'm a pretty patient person. I can handle quite a bit of non-sense... I'm not lying... this thing would put most of you over the edge and out in your yards pulling an Office Space scene.

I know eventually when the artificial pancreas is approved by the FDA and the closed loop system is out there on the market that we'll have to deal with CGM (and lord knows probably more)... but some days.... and some nights... that stupid little "monner" (as Solly says) brings me to do ridiculous things.... like... I don't know... wake up around 5 a.m. dig around the night stand for earplugs... stick them in so I don't have to hear the monotonous beep then fall into a deep glorious sleep... only to randomly wake up and realize... then recognize "that" beep... "low predicted"

Jumped outta bed this morning at 5 to find Saul awake... laying in his crib with a BG of 50.

After he came out of his low... and was laying there... he said "Mom..... pump go ehhheehhhheehhhheeehh" (his version of the beep beep beep beep). I said Saul... I'm sorry dude... is it making you crazy? Are you gonna pull your own Office Space scene in the middle of the night? Rip off those rompers and hulk-smash your tummy?

He just stared at me... craacked up laughing... then rolled over on his side and went to sleep.

ahhh... kids... they're so funny.

Solly proudly showing off his "monner"

Just what the Dr. ordered

(Okay not really... but I'll go with it).

Actually, what the Dr. ordered was 6 new adjustments to basal & bolus rates for Saul's insulin pump therapy. So far (fingers crossed) since tweaking his insulin rates we've had more stable numbers and better moods since then.

I ordered Sebulsky to spend an entire day sans work... the 70 hour work weeks + weekend working must be supplemented with a day or two of genuine rest and escape.... so that's what we did.

Yesterday- as a whole- was exactly what our family needed... time together- out of the house- outside- having fun.

While I enjoy spending my time with the kids as a stay at home Mom - it's coming at a huge cost. Living on a one income salary for a year means Sebulsky and I are constantly making financial decisions and having to chose when to spend and what to cut. Certain things are easy to live without- but a trip to the zoo shouldn't be one of them.

I digress...

Anyway. We decided to put our zoo membership (which we purchased a year ago - lol) to good use and drive over to L'ville for the day to soak in the wonderful weekend weather. It turned out to be the best idea we've had in a while.

EH woke up at 6 am and had herself dressed by 6:15. She failed in her attempts to get us out the door by 6:30... but her excitement got us pumped up and kept us energized on the drive over.

The giraffes were a huge hit (EH is currently in a giraffe obsessed state) while Saul couldn't get enough of the elephants. It was so funny to watch him during this visit - he was so cute. He'd hop out of the stroller - look at the animal - then hop back in the stroller for the next animal adventure. It was like he had his own little system going on.

While most people go to the zoo to animal watch... my inner Sociologist always surfaces as I find the people at places like this far more interesting and entertaining. Yesterday proved to be no exception. Every fair, carnival, zoo, flea market or mall excursion I find myself observing, analyzing & formulating.... filing away qualitative data.... "You can take the girl outta Sociology- but you can't take the Sociology outta the girl." lol.

My favorite animal exhibit however, was the naked mole rat. I'm not sure how I've always missed it- but after reading Mo Willems children's book "Naked Mole Rat gets Dressed" a hundred times to primary school kids last year - and pulling up pictures and info on them from the internet- seeing the exhibit and the actual creature was the cherry on top of an awesome day. BTW- if you have small children or work with them you must get them hooked on Mo Willems... He's one of my FAVE authors... Your kids will love him... Oh and don't even get me started on the Knuffle Bunny series...

Okay so maybe I just exaggerated... because by far... the absolute BEST part of the day had to be watching Saul go through the dinosaur exhibit.

Really that was our primary focus for the trip. This was the last weekend for the special dinosaur exhibit.

Priceless. That's just about all I can say. He was in absolute heaven... I mean like his life was fully completed yesterday with this experience. I shoulda videoed- I would have videoed had I not been dealing with EH who was less than thrilled to be going through it.

Just imagine Little Buddy - biggest smile you've ever seen with his T-Rex in hand RAWWR'ing at each dinosaur display then waving to them saying bbbyyyyyeeee, blowing them kisses and shouting "more more more" oh... and yelling "ttteeeeeetttthhhh."

We debated taking him through a second time- just so we could watch him in action again.

Needless to say the day was worth every calculated penny spent... Saul had the time of his life.

I'm hoping we can squeeze in another trip before Fall gets here so the kids can hit up the Spash Park.. but knowing us it'll be another year before we make it back. Sad right? When we're oh so close.

Sebulsky was in charge of photos. Of course we've already got them on FB but you should be able to link to his Flickr as well.

www.flickr.com/photos/jefseb

Sorry using Blogger app and can't figure out how to imbed link. Argh.

Sometimes I wonder.

During a daily twitter check, I stumbled across a girls you-tube video about non-diabetics supporting those with diabetes. She looks to be in her mid-twenties and she offers advice (I'll paraphrase) "don't nag" "ask how to help" "be patient." I gave it a re-tweet and "liked" on Facebook and now I'm sitting here thinking about what she said.

I've actually been thinking alot this morning... mainly about the future - Saul's - and... mine.

I thought to myself... man... I wouldn't want to be his pre-school or Kindergarten teacher. I mean... come on... if you think those folks have it easy... well... go observe some classrooms. I keep thinking... if his BG doesn't get regulated and it seriously continues to be a 24-7 managment of highs and lows what in the world are we going to do with him? Where will we send him? I'm not going to send him to a classroom with 26 other 5 year olds. What if he's like his Dad... and just "deals with things" never tells the teacher when he's feeling high or low cause he doesn't want to bother anybody or get in trouble. What happens when other people (lots of other people) witness his crazy personality changes... "hulking out" at high numbers and slipping into a quiet lethargic state during lows.

Will he be proud to show off his pump and monitor to all the kids on the playground. Will he be embarrassed and hide his pump and tubing so no one sees. Will he be sneaky and sometimes use diabetes as a means to go to the bathrrom or sneak candy who shouldn't eat?

How much should I be involved? Do I let him advocate for himself starting at a young age? Should I stay on him constantly about taking care of himself. Should I expect daily reports when I'm away from him?

I'm not a coddler. In so many ways I'm a hands-off kinda Mom... but how do I balance supporting him- teaching him- loving him without letting the "Big D" get in the way of a normal mom-son parenting realationship.

The "rough patch" that started about a week or so ago continues. The 24 hour My Sentry reading is ridiculous. I can't help but feel guilty like it's my fault... like maybe I'm not counting carbs correctly... maybe I'm waiting to late to bolus... and I can't help but wonder... will he ever feel guilty? Feel guilty for eating one too many cupcakes... feel guilty for being "difficult"... feel guilty for causing others to worry, stay up late, needing help... or worse... will anyone else ever worry? Will his teachers care.... or be frustreated that they have to deal with him... dread getting "that one."

How do I raise him to let the guilt go... to just accept it and move on. How do I raise him to laugh things off and find the humor in the cards we are dealt? Maybe I need to start with myself.

*Cue Bette Midler

{*Cause you got to have frrriiieennnddssss*}

Friends crack you up.

Friends sometimes like the same thing.

Friends like to create together.

Friends like to "host" parties.

Friends like to "treat lows" together.

Friends go for walks.

Friends go for rides.

Friends cook together.

Friends shock each other.

Friends defiently LOVE tire swings.

Friends love sno-cones and playgrounds.

.

Friends like to build together (sometimes a friends Mom has way too much laundry to fold).

Friends like meeting for lunch.

  

Friends like "cookie breaks"

Friends LOVE spalshing barefoot in rain puddles.

Friends like being chauffeured

Friends LOVE baking cookies

Friends enjoy morning snacks.

Friends sometimes give pushes... (when they're not supposed to)

Friends can look pretty scary sometimes.

Friends can look beautiful.

Friends work together.

Some friends really really like eating.

Friends are by your side.

Sorry Sebulsky... It's the song that pops into my head everytime I look at pictures from the past 2 weeks of these sweet sweet kiddos.

Over it alls.

It's 2:23 a.m.

I am wide awake finding solace in a "newly discovered" parent of a T1 blog. The more I read the better I feel about being awake at 2:23 a.m.

We hit a rough patch a week or so ago. Saul's numbers went crazy. Loco crazy. Unexplainable crazy. 400 to 40 in 45 min crazy. By Wed of last week I was wondering if there truly was enough coffee in the world to save me.

I finally broke down and contacted UK. I knew exactly what they'd say.

1. Why aren't you doing the detailed food journal like we asked?

2. Why isn't he wearing the CGM?

*sigh*

Should I tell them the truth?

Diabetes burnout? Less than motivated at my job as fill in pancreas?

Should I get smart?

Ummm.... You hold down a screaming 22 month old and insert a darning needle 2 inches from his belly button while he appears to bleed out and yell hysterically only to have him reach down and rip it out of his stomach 15 min later and make you go through the hour + long process again.... with even more added dramatic shouting and body flapping... Oh and blood... there's always blood involved.

You attempt to prepare, weigh and carb-count every freaking edible (and non-edible... for that matter) item that enters a toddlers mouth in a 24 hour period while contemplating why one day Cheerios make him go high but the next day the don't.

*sigh*

I admitted fault. I accepted challenge. I busted out the 3 pair of overalls he owns.

I got the CGM in on Friday. It was a god-awful bloody mess. The worst to date. I also stabbed myself with the insertion needle in the process and seriously thought about calling my Dr. for pain pills. Lol. I will forever use an entire tube of lidocaine on every site change because. OH. MY. GOD. ALMIGHTY. That freaking needle really HURTS....

I taped it down with 3 pieces of tegaderm and a drape dressing (Thank You Brandon Thomas).

Of course Saul immediately tried to pull it out... and hey, I gotta say after my little run-in with that needle I don't blame him.

I got the genius idea of forced overall-wearing after contemplating my own "toddler onesie -hole for pump tubing on the side-" design. Can't you just see it now? All the diabetic toddlers could be rocking out in the new fall fashion line... Complete with snap crotch and pocket pouch for carrying skittles during those hypo episodes on the playground.... *mind devolves* *could I get rich off this?* *doubtful* go get the overalls...

He only has 3 pair... One of which is denim... He's sleeping in those now. I really put him to bed in denim short overalls. Not the most comfy nighttime pjs... but it was that - or Harpers pink overall dress tucked into sweats.

I'll chuck this up to things I never thought I'd worry about till "the big D" entered our life... the possibility of having to put him to bed in pink dresses. Lol.

Ah. I'll get overitall
He'll get overitall

Let's call it personality development... Raising a child with a great sense of humor.

2.5 years and still counting

15 months + 11 months + 4 months = 30 months = 2 and a ½ years (and counting….)

My friend Stephany wrote a comment on FB yesterday “thanks for the pump.”

I read it twice before I figured out she wasn’t talking “insulin.”

I laughed and thought to myself… my life has been nothing but pumps since the day Harper entered this world.

I always knew I would breastfeed. All the women in my life did it… women I worked with and worked for... I always wanted to do it… for me… for the kids…

And, I also knew, that as a working Mom, pumping would become part of my daily routine.

-          The daily 4 am alarm. Locking myself in the wiring closet at work. Hiding in bathroom stalls at conferences. Pumping and dumping. The special car adaptor that could possibly have been the greatest purchase of my life. Having to get up and leave in the middle of dinners-movies-conversations. The never-ever-ever-ending “EerrKk”  “EerrKk” “EerrKk” “EerrKk.”

I’ve learned a lot of lessons about life, myself, sacrifice, heartache, and joy in the 2 and ½ years I’ve dealt with pumps –breast and now insulin.

Possibly… the most poignant is that both are life-saving devices… which assist/ed in accuracy, efficiency and delivery…  yet… they are still just devices.

It takes commitment, time, sacrifice and experience… It takes an operator. A button-pusher. A controller. A human. It takes someone who is willing to step up to the plate and do the job… day in… and day out... even when you don't really want too...  

It takes love.

I include a disclosure.

I would never say breast is better than bottle or injections are better than pumps.  I know… because I’ve experienced it all. We each face different obstacles and challenges and in the end we all must find peace and happiness in the choices we make – what works for us – what’s best for us. All of us-mothers (and fathers) out there who love our children more than ourselves sacrifice in some way in the name of love.

$4.00 therapy day

It’s 10:30 p.m.

Sebulsky is pulling another long night at the office and I’m sitting here finishing off a bag of .99 cent pork rinds and a $3.00 bottle of merlot while trying to find some deeper meaning to life.

Feelings. I seem to have an overabundance of those lately.

Which is why I just haven’t been able to hit that publish button… delete makes much more sense.  

So I’m going to vomit out some sentences that probably won’t make sense… and should really just be scribbled in a journal marked “for my eyes only” hidden in a bed side drawer….. BUT…. because it’s the digital age… and social media is all the rage… and I battle with insomnia…  and I can’t stop eating these pork rinds... yep… here it comes….  

Harper:

Harper starts Montessori tomorrow. We have to wake up early. I dread it. She’s nervous-  an emotion I’m not sure I’ve ever witnessed from her before - which makes me worry. She’ll do great. It’s just me.

I wanted things to go smoother on the first night before school… fix a favorite dinner… go out for orange leaf… read “the night before the first day of school” have her journal her emotions… what she thinks it will be like, what she’s excited about… nervous about…  give her a heads up about the schedule and what tomorrow will “look like.”

I expected her to be in bed at 8:00.

Instead

I forced her to lay down and stay down at 9:00. I took her book away at 9:10 which resulted in tears. Saul began wailing at 9:15. He went to bed with a BG of 380… which means I’ll have to get back up to check him and ketones in about an hour. His site should have been changed today but I didn’t do it.

She went to sleep. crying.

She went to sleep crying on the night before the first day of school.

Saul:

One of the hardest questions for me to answer from folks is “How’s he doing?”

I typically say “aww… he’s doing good” or “we’re adjusting” or “things are getting better… the pump is great.”

That’s what I said to my neighbor on Saturday, Mike the Pharmacist on Sunday and my co-workers at school on Monday.

I generally think most people assume I exaggerate his condition. Sometimes I even question myself. Am I over cautious? Is he sick? Should I have forced myself to go back to work? Has he ended up in the hospital?  Are his A1C’s bad? Has he gone into DKA?  Diabetic coma? Are we not “managing” just fine?

And then… it will happen.

Out of the blue.

When I’m off guard.

When I blow off his situation.

When I forget.

I picked up Harper and MD this afternoon from a play date with Isla and Julia. I thought Saul was acting strange in the car on the ride home but I chocked it up to needing a nap.

I got the girls out first. When I went to get him out I noticed he looked bad… terrible actually. I picked him up and set him on the sidewalk and he fell over. I kinda chuckled and told him to get up. He whimpered but didn’t move… I picked him up and he went limp. lethargic. lifeless.

I carried him to his crib. He was unresponsive… no talking … no crying. Sweat was pooling on his forehead, dripping down his cheeks… his pillow was wet.

40.

I grabbed the skittles off the dresser and shoved them in his mouth. I grabbed his hand… he didn’t even squeeze.

This wasn’t his first low. But. This was the first low he’s had where he was scared.

It was all in his eyes and eye movement. He was terrified. It was almost like he had no idea what was going on.

It’s been the worst episode yet.

It took 45 min to get him up to 111 at which point he fell asleep.

He woke up and was 61.

I suspended the pump.

He was 350 an hour later.

Some days I wanna say “he’s not doing good” some days “we’re not adjusting” some days “things aren’t better” some days “even though the pump is great… I still have to be his pancreas and do all the work.”

Me:

It’s easy for me to get hung up on stuff, to question myself, doubt my decisions my actions or lack thereof- it would be nice if I got hung up on all “the other” stuff.  If I focused on how great my life is. If I publicly acknowledged how much I appreciate an amazing, hard-working husband who is a fantastic Dad… If I expressed my gratitude to both sets of our parents who still come to our rescue when we need them…  who…  without them… the life I am currently living would not be possible.  

It’s 11:30 p.m.

I’m scraping the bottom of the pork rind bag… only crumbs.

The last sip of my gas station wine is gone.

Jeff is still at work.

Both kids are sleeping.

I’m calling it a day. I’m calling it a $4.00 gas station therapy kinda day.

1/2 a year looks 1/2 full

6 things I’ve learned in 6 months.

1.       It does get easier.

2.       If carb counting was an Olympic sport… I’m pretty sure I’d get a medal.

3.       Diabetes is totally random, makes no sense and never will… so hate the “Big D” and move on with life.

4.       The CGM is the bane of my existence.

5.       Managing diabetes may actually be easier than potty-training.

6.       Saul’s got the best friends and family in the whole world.

Some days.

Some days are easier than others. Today wasn't one of those days. Today I wished I could drop my kids off with a babysitter. Today I missed "getting ready for the new school year." Today I yelled "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SAUL STOP CRYING." Today I made Harper clean up a mess I know Saul made. Today I cursed Jeff's job for making him always work late and stay distracted. Today I fed both kids re-heated fish sticks and fries even though Harper asked for a peanut butter sandwich. Today I drank an entire pot of coffee by 10:45 a.m. and was still exhausted. Today I lied to Harper and told her when she saved up enough money she could buy herself a pet. Today I stopped doing laundry because I hate folding clothes. Today I told Mabel to just "stay asleep" cause taking care of a geriatric blind dog is taxing. Today the TV played... Channel 122... Disney Junior... all...day...long.....

But.

Some days I realize that even on my bad days... on days when I'm a terrible mother, chef, nurse, maid, teacher, organizer, dog-washer, barista, entertainer and friend...

That...

It was just 1 measly day... and that... tomorrow's a new day and I have a chance to redeem myself and make good with the world again.