Plunging toilets, killing spiders and changing sets. Ryan's jobs.
Thankfully when a killer giant spider jumped out at me while making lunches this morning my sister in law jumped in front of me to save the day. Sets? J has taken to filling reservoirs for me, and thankfully the toilet hasn't been an issue for me yet.
Ryan was brilliant at changing sets. We use quick sets, and for the life of me I have no idea where the good "rocket" is. (We call the R2D2 like serter, the "rocket.") We have one that fits the set perfectly. It is a cloudy white on the inside...we've never inserted a wonky set with it yet. But like I said, it is in a place that probably only Ryan knows so we are left with the bright white insided rocket that is pretty sucky. Maybe I'm making excuses, but I've inserted THREE bad/kinked sets this week. One was discovered during the first few minutes of church with the lovely, "No Delivery" alarm. The other buggers never alarmed and left me to discover them after "HI" came waving back at me from the meter.
Also, blood sugars are all over the map. Before Ryan passed the boys needed half corrections at night. The night Ryan passed they immediately started needing twice the insulin at night for corrections. Then...last week they went back to being sensitive to the insulin...only to now find B the last four nights needs twice the insulin to come down, again. (Me thinks another growth spurt cometh. Nighttime basal changes? Blarg.)
It's a good indicator how the boys emotions are ebbing and flowing. B won't leave my side when he comes home from school. L has often been calling with headaches wanting to be with me after lunch. The older boys are normaling the best they can, but every once in awhile I see the melancholy on their faces. They all hug me a lot more. Intuitively they know that's what their mother needs right now.
Grief is a surreal place to be. It feels like we are in a foreign country right in our home. Heightened senses make everything look new and out of place. We walk in the front door knowing that this is home, yet we cautiously are waiting for it to feel like home again.
Although fickle and frustrating, diabetes has been a comfortable companion as of late.
The familiar routine that we have, changing sets and checking sugars, brings normalcy to us. It's one of the only things that doesn't seem foreign these days.
I can't say I am thankful for diabetes, but diabetes is part of the home that we've left behind. Don't get me wrong...the nights are killing me. I need to get those figured out, but something tells me the boys bodies aren't even close to being predictable. And that's ok, 'cause neither is mine.
I wore eye makeup yesterday to run some errands. My tear ducts indicated that was a stupid idea right off the bat.
But wearing that make-up, or trying to, was a step forward.
Changing sets, killing spiders, wearing make-up...putting one foot in front of the other...
That's all we can do.
We are doing our best. And who can do better than that?