Mantra



 

When I taught H.S. I kept this quote taped to my desk.  When I moved to the library I carried it with me.  It's more than my "favorite quote"... it's kinda like my "life quote."



 



The Hour I First Believed

It’s funny the comforts people turn to in times of tragedy and despair.  Those of faith rely on prayer and religious text.  Some folks find escape through numbing agents… alcohol, pills, etc. Others take out their stress on treadmills, concrete paths and country roads. Mom (no shock) turns to her art and creating.

I get lost in books.

If I had my choice (as if I don’t) I’d rather rely on running… well… maybe running and praying… simultaneously.

A number of events have transpired over the course of this month (not just Dad’s recent car wreck) but several conversations that have occurred and things I’ve read… it’s all kinda lead me to a point where I’m tired of writing…. especially about diabetes, but also in general (though I do have a plethora of funny stories I could tell based on the nights I stayed with Dad last week).

I’ve always said… airports and hospitals… two of my favorite places to observe, speculate and analyze the human condition.

In between my “pretend sociological research” and “pretend nurse playing,” I buried myself deep between the pages (for your imagery… I read everything on my iPhone) of the book “The Hour I First Believed.”

Wally Lamb.

Somehow… he managed to throw me a life raft.

Again.

The book is not new- been out for several years actually. I’d picked it up several times… read through chapters… set it down… repeat the process when I’d be waiting for EH at ballet or between 3 am BG checks with Saul.

This time, though, given my circumstances, I was able to devour the book in its entirety from cover to cover without stopping.

It is a fantastic read and definitely falls into the category of (if you love East of Eden… then you’ll like- the measure by which I base all books ). 

If you enjoy stories about human suffering, nature vs. nurture, family, despair, violence, hope and the ultimate quest to understand good and evil… then you will enjoy.

If you’ve already read it- I’d be curious as to your reaction- especially if you’ve read his other novels.

If you’ve not heard of Wally Lamb I’d encourage you to “google him” and read the reviews of this book, along with his others.

All I will say is that I’ve added Pablo Picasso’s print “Minotauromachy” on to my Christmas Amazon Wish list.

Oh…. and I dug out the hand-written-somewhat scribbled- Thank You letter I wrote Mr. Wally Lamb fifteen years ago… in the hour after finishing his first novel… and first believing.

November... You've been a bust.

And WV... Well... so far, so have you.

I've written before about the contentious relationship I have with my native home state.

All it takes is a walk through one of the local ER waiting rooms for me to start remembering why I left this all behind.

In the 19 hours I've been here I've witnessed an old, wheel-chair bound, cane-carrying-grandpa screaming profanities at the top of his lungs... Because "$&@*# I ain't waiting any $&@#* LONGER $&@*#"

I dodged the madness (literally) the crazy cussing geriatric swung his cane right at me... And as I passed through, I couldn't help but notice, and feel terribly sorry for the "Sea of sick people" who not only "looked" sick... but "sad" "poor" "dirty" and "hopeless."

My text to Sebulsky "Dear God I'm in that SNL skit "Appalachian ER."

Later as Mom and I were leaving we witnessed what appeared to be the "kin" of some deliverance folks... walking the parking lot. The woman wearing a hospital gown and dirty robe shot me death stares as I rolled my eyes at her "shoeless" feet.

Seriously? Seriously? You're walking the hospital parking lot barefoot? Is that legal?

Sigh.

The best...

I'm currently sitting here in the hospital room with Dad "snooping" on the neighbors... Because... What else can you do for hours upon end in a hospital room.... When I hear...

"Y'all I'm telling ya... There's days I miss the teeth... But LAH ZEE I sure ain't missing that brushin"

At which point I looked up and smiled at her and she shot me a toothless grin.

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. 

 

 

Diabetes Jekyll and Hyde

If you don’t suffer from some kind of neurosis prior to a T-1 diagnosis you certainly will after.

“But he looks great”

“He doesn’t look sick”

“You’d never know anything was wrong with him”

“He must be doing a lot better”

I’ll admit, I was probably the most naïve of all of us when it came to understanding Saul’s diagnosis. I know I’ve already discussed it- but when we were told Saul was “diabetic” I was like “uh. okay,” and kinda shrugged my shoulders.

My initial gut reaction was “God, it’s not that bad.” I still remember thinking “well… no more sweets” and “so he has to take shots… I can give shots” and there are tons of people walking around who are diabetic… (I mean… granted they’re all OLD)… but really, “What’s the big deal?”

I know that so many of you out there think the same thing… and feel the same way… because seriously… sometimes those same thoughts still creep up.

.… and sometimes I hear/and am part of conversations that go like this…

(speaker): “you know (so and so) is diabetic and they’ve had it for years….  and they’ve never had any complications. They live like a normal life and are fine. I don’t know why you get so upset about Saul having diabetes.”

(speaker): “yeah, we have all kinds of diabetic kids at our school so it’s no big deal, they just go to the nurse a lot.”

(speaker): “they have a pump and you’d never know it. They never make a big deal about any of the stuff you ever talk about.”

(speaker): “why do you make such a big deal about diabetes… so he can’t have candy and sweets-it’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

(speaker): “yeah our cat is diabetic. We have to give him shots. How cool is that that- our cat and your kid.”

 

Do I want Saul to walk around sick all the time- teetering between ketoacidosis and hypoglycemia? Do I want him to live a life of surviving one coma to the next…  one seizure after another?…. Do I want to constantly blog from ambulances and hospital rooms… just so I can prove to myself and the world that living with Type 1 diabetes is in fact, a life-threatening, inescapable disease that we all must learn to manage and control?

Counting every carb in every bite of food that enters his mouth, calculating doses of insulin and giving injections, waking up 3 and 4 times in the middle of the night EVERY night to check blood sugar levels… these things are easy in comparison to attempting to explain Type 1 diabetes in a toddler and how it effects that individual and their loved ones.

Several events have transpired since that “Debbie- Downer- Walking- Dead” post.

I had a thoughtful (albeit unfinished) conversation with my guru Ashley. I pondered similar thoughts outlined by Type 1 blogger Kerri over at Six Until Me. I spent several days this week suffering through “sick day management” while I myself was sick. I’ve dealt with a few too many hypo episodes following this last change in Saul’s insulin regiment.  

 

I know Type 1 Diabetes doesn’t have to be a death sentence…

But it also doesn’t mean settling.  

 

November is Diabetes Awareness Month.  I feel compelled to advocate. Not just for Saul, but for everyone out there affected by this crazy disease – whether they look sick or not.

You can help Saul and others by educating yourself- something I wish I’d done before January 27^th. 

How to survive the Zombie Apocalypse... or... everyday life.

“You realize, Courtney, Saul will never survive the Zombie Apocalypse. There’s no way we can ever keep him alive.  I think he might make it for a few days… but that would be pushing it.”

About a month or so after Saul’s diagnosis – and several weeks into blogging, I asked Sebulsky to write a “guest post.” I thought it would be clever- and funny, if he wrote about one of his obsessions, and how his carefully thought out, detail- oriented plans, would work now that our lives included a chronically ill toddler- one that is reliant upon a synthetic medication- in order to stay alive.

I remember plain as day – the two of us- sitting there across from each other in our recliners- following that Sunday episode of Walking Dead- when we both came to the realization that “hypothetically speaking…. Saul would be a goner.”

It was early into his diagnosis. We were still on insulin injections. We were averaging 15-20 BG checks a day. I was still angry. I left the conversation… and my recliner. I went to the bathroom to cry.

I cried because I wouldn’t be able to save my son from becoming a zombie.

 

 

Saul has been doing really well lately.  Sure- we’ve had a few highs and lows (a donut AND a biscuit in ONE DAY… HELLO!…. 2 hours of running outside non-stop without pump suspension or temp basal… WHATDA YA EXPECT?).

 

It’s when things are somewhat normal, when levels are good, and we’re just chugging along… smiling and happy…. That’s when I say to myself… “Yeah… but he’ll never survive the Zombie Apocalypse.”

I know. I know. It’s stupid.  

#1. While Jeff likes to talk about it… a lot…. I don’t really believe it will happen… but then again you never know.

#2. What is up with my pessimism? Why can’t I just enjoy the moment for what it is- soak in the “good times” and not anticipate the “what if’s?.”

Maybe it’s because

We live in a culture of fear… fear which we cannot escape. TV shows, movies, news… we’re surrounded by it.  We’re overwhelmed by a constant reminder that at any moment our lives could be rocked by (fill in the blank) _____________________ (a natural disaster, a terrorist attack, an apocalypse, a crashing economy, a widespread plague).

 

There is no possible way I can prepare Saul for all the future obstacles he may face in life- with or without diabetes – and believe me… I’ve thought of nearly all of them.

-          Trapped in an elevator (okay… so actually trapped anywhere… for any amount of time… without insulin or treatments for lows)

-          Driving

-          Traveling- (to remote locations…it’s sometimes like being trapped)

-          Forgetting medical supplies

-          College (any and everything related to college…. I worry about college… yep… everything about college… let’s not talk about college… he’ll have an artificial pancreas by then… right? Right.)

I could go on and on and on… stupid, ridiculous “self-created” situations and events…. “he would die on a stranded island” (but wouldn’t most of us?) “he won’t be able to live in space” (but would he want to?)

on… and… on… and on….

Or, I could just stop living in fear.

I can teach him (and everyone around him) how to treat and manage his condition. I can teach him to advocate. I can teach him to problem-solve. I can teach him to prepare and plan and be responsible.

I could just stop fearing diabetes and the “what could happen” because of it.

 

It seems like the most logical action.

 

So why can’t I just do it?