Stuck Like Glue

I have been blessed with the best big sister anyone could ask for.  Kim and I have been best friends our whole lives.  We complete each other.  Or compete with each other?  I forget.  My dad has always said "friends will come and go, but you are stuck with your family".  We are inseparable, and I would not want it any other way.

Kim loves Madeline with all her heart.  Kim is terrified of needles with all her heart.  So when I asked if she would babysit  Madeline two days a week,  I could see the terror in her eyes. "You want me to give shots?!".  I really don't know what kind of response I expected from a woman that has to hold her kids hands when she gets a flu shot.  Here's me: "Kim, I'm desperate.  I am ready to lose my mind if I don't get some help".  Here's Kim; "You want me to give shots?!".  I shouldn't have, it was wrong, but I did.  I threw in the Puss in Boots eyes.

She agreed (really, how could you not looking at those peepers?).

After a month of sweating, shaking hands and "man, I hate needles", she did her first solo run and gave Madeline an insulin shot.  I was thrilled!  Kim was completely freaked out. We were both relieved.  She was now a full fledged diabetic caregiver.

Not only do I have a great best friend, I now have a buddy who completely gets the whole WTF with diabetes.  She sees the crazy blood sugar fluctuations for no good reason.  She understands why I have to test Madeline so many times a day.  She totally understands how hard it is to care for a diabetic toddler.

Madeline loves her Aunt Kimmy very much.  Aunt Kimmy loves Madeline so much she conquered her fear of needles to care for her.    

Friends will come and go, but you are stuck with your family.

Thanks Dad. 

   

  



Let The Games Begin

So it happened.  I knew it would.  It was inevitable, but somehow, I was still not prepared.  The flu bug came to visit Madeline.  That little microscopic stomach bug joined forces with her diabetes for many fun filled days.

The fist game we all played together was Catch Me If You Can.  This is the fun game of catching vomit before it hits the floor, bedding, walls, or best of all, me.  Diabetes added extra fun to Catch Me If You Can.  Blood sugars had to be tested continually to be sure she was safe.  Since this game started at 12:30 in the morning, we lost the first round, but came back strong for the next 6 hours and took the victory. Madeline-1  Diabetes-0 

Our next game was You Can't Win.  This game was a bit more tricky.  Blood glucose had to be tested hourly, if not sooner, to be sure there were no major number fluctuations.  I thought I had this in the bag.  Madeline's numbers stayed within her safe range and I was even able to introduce liquids.   12 hours into our games, Madeline was finally hydrated enough to wet a diaper.  It must have happened when I was looking in the mirror yelling "oh yeah, that's right, who's the mama", but  diabetes added LARGE ketones in her urine.  Great.  Time to call the doctors office.  I had to stop my feel good moment and push anything I could that had carbs to get her glucose numbers up, so I could give her an insulin shot, to bring them  down.  Confusing you say?  Yes it is.  It's called Diabetes.  Remember I had already played Catch Me If You Can, and now I had to push things, she did not want, into her sensitive little system to clear the ketones.  Incredibly, 6 hours later, there was only a trace of ketones.  We did a high five and accepted our win.  Madeline-2  Diabetes-0

Our final game was How Low Can You Go.  This game was introduced to me 3 days post flu.  Madeline was back to her crazy little self and eating her normal foods.  We had just finished dinner, then it happened.  Out of the flipping blue, blood glucose numbers dropped super low and hover there for 3 hours straight.  Fantastic.  There is a frantic call to the hospital (to find out that this does happen, but not too often) and to keep pushing carbs to get numbers up.  Juice, cookies, candy.  47.  More juice, carb loaded soda, fudge brownies.  46.  Arrrrggggg!  Madeline was extremely tired, queasy from all the junk we were making her eat, and just not feeling well from the low numbers.  I was testing every 20 minutes and had the Glucagon kit ready.  Those 3 hours went by so slowly I swear the clock was going backwards.  At 9:30pm the number 80 finally came up on her meter and there was a huge sigh of relief.  Scared senseless, but still victorious.  Madeline-3 Diabetes-0

Diabetes is a poor loser.  It just couldn't sit back and chill.  It decided to spike Madeline's blood sugar numbers through the roof overnight.  She woke up droopy and exhausted, to a blood sugar over 300, with  a soaked diaper, jammies, and bedding.  Love it.  We spent the next few hours making insulin corrections to get her numbers back in range.  Crazy blood sugar numbers followed for the next few days.  Good times.

I am happy no one else in the family got the flu (thanks Kim and Tim for taking Sophia!!!).  I am happy Madeline never had to go to the emergency room due to the "games" we played.  I am happy I had 24 hour access to knowledgeable doctors at the hospital.

I am not happy that I heard a small voice say "tag, you're it".

Who's The Superstar

Let's face it, Paula Deen can cook.  I don't think there has been one meal she has made that I would not eat, or at least, try.  I hate cooking, but Paula made me feel as though it was such a fun, easy process, that even I could do it.

When Paula announced she was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, I thought "wow, this could be a huge benefit to the diabetes community".  To have such a loved celebrity, that all ages, men and women alike, enjoy watching, could open a lot of eyes to a diabetic life.  Sadly, it has turned into a money making deal for Paula, and her medication company, that does not benefit the diabetes community.  What a big disappointment. 

The fact that Paula didn't come out with her diagnosis until she had a deal with a drug company in place, was in poor taste.  I would much rather have heard her declaring her war on diabetes and how she was going to help others understand and support those diagnosed.

Diabetes is very confusing.  The media is clueless, but are more than happy to make the world even more confused.  They take pictures of Paula eating a huge sloppy hamburger, and everyone goes nuts.  "She can't eat that!".  Had Paula taken the time to actually talk about diabetes, people would understand, yes, you can eat that burger.  Eating in moderation, taking your medication, and a good exercise program, allow you some food freedom. 

Mary Tyler Moore, Nick Jonas, and Bret Michaels are all Type 1 diabetics.  They are all dependent on insulin.  They are also huge inspirations to the diabetic community.  They use their star power to get involved, create awareness, raise money, and help others.  They truly want a cure. They get it. They are heroes.

Paula should spend a day with Madeline.  Maybe watching a toddler getting poked and jabbed continually throughout the day, would help her see what is most important.  Being a drug spokeswoman for monetary compensation may help Paula, but does nothing to help the fight against diabetes.

Rick and I are just normal, working parents, but we manage to make time to raise money, and awareness, for diabetes.  We want a cure.  The only compensation Madeline receives for her diabetic burden are hugs and kisses.  Lot's of hugs and kisses.  Now that's a superstar.

Wild Ride

Ahhhhhhh, the Wisconsin Dells.  What's not to love about water parks and hotels combined?  Throngs of people, baby strollers, and pure chaos everywhere.  Fun stuff.

My kids love water parks.  As long as the water is no higher than their big toe, 90 degree temp, no splashing, dumping, or spraying of water on the face or body, they love it.  That is why we brought Amanda along on our little family getaway to the Dells. We needed someone we could actually have some water fun with.

Amanda and I took Madeline down the family tube ride, in complete darkness, going about 100 miles an hour, with only my legs keeping her from bouncing out of the tube.  Due to extreme excitement, her blood glucose numbers shot up to 300.  Stop the bus.  Back to the kiddie area for some quiet time, something to drink, and another number check.  Sophia, having never left the toe deep water, was more than happy for Madeline's company.

Since it appeared the little kids could not handle the "fun" family rides,  Rick and I took turns going down the big, must be taller than 48", water slides with Amanda.  She insisted we needed to go on the best ride of all:  The Hurricane.  It's not fun until Rick screams a four letter word on a family friendly water park ride.  I should have known if Rick was scared, it was probably not the ride for me.  Like a trooper though, I took my turn.

Screaming, eyes closed tight, and holding on for dear life, I survived The Hurricane.  It took a few minutes for my hands to stop shaking, but I made it.  Once was good enough for me.  I thought maybe it was time to head over to the toe deep water for a bit.

Our trip home after 2 days in the water park was pretty quiet.  Too quiet.  Madeline was sleeping and it was just about lunch time.  Amanda checked her blood glucose, 62.  I felt that little panic inside and shook Madeline to wake her so she could drink some juice.  Nothing.  Uh-oh.  Shake, shake, shake.  "Wake up Madeline!".  Nothing.  "Madeline!".  Still nothing.  Now in a much louder voice,  "TIME TO WAKE UP!!".  And there it was, a little smile at the corner of her mouth.  " ha ha mama!  I was just being silly".

Madeline being "silly" was like riding The Hurricane upside down, no hands, and eyes taped wide open the whole way down.  I managed a little laugh and said "yep, you're a silly girl".  I wonder when my hands will stop shaking?   

     

Hairy Situation

A few weeks ago I laughed at my girlfriend.  My bad.  She told me she was noticing how much hair she was losing after washing it.  It seemed to be quite a bit, and was worried why this was happening.  I, of course, laughed and made the smart ass comment that it could be a sign of early menopause.  She was not amused.

I am pretty positive I have been cursed due to my lack of sympathy.  I too, have started watching my hair pile up in that little catcher at the bottom of the shower stall.  Unlike my friend, I do know the reason for my thinning locks.  Stress.  

Madeline and Rick have to go to the doctor every 3 months for a diabetes checkup.  Forever.  These checkups are necessary for the doctor to keep track of how well their diabetes is being controlled, and if any changes need to be made.  They get a blood test called an A1C.  It gives a little snapshot to the last 3 months of blood information in a percentage.  They want Madeline's percentage (due to her age) to be around 8 or 9, no higher (Rick is around 6 or 7).  Her first 3 month A1C (after diagnosis) was 9.5%.  Understandable.  Her latest A1C was 10.1%.  WTF?!  I followed her diabetes care by the book and that is the number she gets?   Continued high percentages could likely lead to health problems in the future.  Thus, I'm quite sure, the hair loss.

The doctor assured me this was not for my lack of taking good care of my child, it was just the cruel reality of diabetes.  We were going to need to get more aggressive with how we do Madeline's insulin to get her numbers back in range.  No more Mr. Nice Guy. Cue the stress.

When you mess with diabetes, it always seems to mess you up back, only worse.  I'm ready.  So far our more aggressive approach  has managed to keep  Madeline's blood sugar numbers in a very good range.  My blood pressure, not so much.  And sleeping?  Overrated.  I find the dark under eye bags make my blue eyes more vibrant.

Bad hair piece to cover bald spot: $20.00
Makeup to cover eye bags: $3.00
Coffee, coffee, coffee:  $8.00
Happy, healthy, clueless kids:  priceless



 




 

    



 

Teenage Moths

My friends with teenage kids say "wait until your girls are teenagers".  A lot.  Apparently there is a metamorphosis that takes place when a child becomes a teenager. The cute little caterpillar child turns into a gigantic ugly moth that knocks you down and chews holes in your sweaters.  How very frightening.

I have a  hard time believing these parents.  I have one very special teenager in my life, and I know for a fact, she would not chew a hole in my sweater.  At least on purpose.  My niece, Amanda.

Amanda is smart, funny and very sociable (except for the pizza guy that one time).  She is also very adventurous.  She water skis, wake boards, rides dirt bikes, ATVs and snowmobiles.  If there is an activity that could possibly break a limb, she wants in.  She's tough.  She's 13.

She is my teenage babysitter.

When Madeline was diagnosed with diabetes, I wasn't sure how Amanda would feel about babysitting.  She would need to be able to test blood sugars and follow the strict rules that applied to Madeline's care.  Most teenage babysitters are not equipped, nor want, that kind of responsibility.

She did not hesitate to help.  She learned blood sugar testing immediately and listened to my speech about diabetes and the care that had to be given.  She understood this was not just a parent being overly protective.  This was serious business.

She approached diabetic babysitting like a new adventure.  This would be something she could do, and was determined to be good at it.  It worked.  When she babysits, I get to have a few hours of me time, and know my girls will be safe and having tons of fun. That does not come easily these days. 

I can only hope my children follow in the footsteps of  Amanda. That is, as long as she doesn't morph into a gigantic moth and attack us.

I'm not worried.

Diabetes Dance

We have officially made it past the 6 month mark with Madeline's diabetes.  No confetti, no balloons or horns, just a sigh of relief.

6 months ago if someone had told me "after 6 months you'll be pretty good at managing diabetes", I may have just laughed in their face (you know, that crazy, psychotic scary kind).  But here we are chugging right along.  We have the good days (yahooo, look at those great blood sugar numbers!) and the not so good days (WTF did I do wrong to give you that number?!).

Diabetes keeps me on my toes so much I should invest in ballet shoes.  Seriously.  I believe I now qualify for the lead role in The Nutcracker or Swan Lake.  Ok, so maybe I do not posses the grace needed for that, but I could show Fred Flintstone a thing or two at the bowling alley!  My toes are superior.

I hope to pass this great toe talent on to Madeline when she is older.  She will have to put on that tutu and pirouette to the diabetes dance day in, and day out, for the rest of her life.  But for now, I just want her to sit back, relax and let me put on the show.

Madeline has learned the very first, and most important, step to this new dance. 

She can now say: "I have diabetes".

Well done my little ballerina.