Our Diabetic Life

Unsolved Mysteries.

2012-02-01T11:26:00.000-08:00

As every good mystery does, this one begins with a puzzling scene...

A boy checking his sugar 20 minutes after eating lunch and seeing a 47 blinking back at him. He shifts his eyes to see if anyone else can see the ghostlike numbers on his monitor.

He wonders if he is imagining it.

He checks again, just to make sure.

44.

He fumbles for his cell phone and calls his mother. She'll know what to do.

She is speechless.

"Mom? ... Mom?"

"I'm sorry honey, I'm here. Eat a bag of fruit snacks AND an apple juice. Do you think your tummy can handle that?"

"No problem!"

The scene switches to the mother. Even though she sits perfectly still on the couch, it is evident that her mind is working at lightning speed trying to calculate how much insulin is still in her dear little boy's system.

He'll call her soon. He always does.

But as an hour elapses she realizes that the call is not coming, so she grabs her coat and rushes across town to check on him herself.

As she drives by the school the landscape of the playground catches her view. There she sees her son's class having "free play." Children are running. Children are bouncing balls. Children are metabolizing much of the sugar in their body into energy.

She knows her son doesn't have enough sugar for that kind of energy.

She parks and walks at a fast clip towards her son's classroom. She enters it and grabs his blood sugar monitor...as she walks out the door she sees the class making their way back in.

His finger didn't stand a chance. She grabbed it with a swiftness that only a worried D mother could muster, and in seconds had the blood sugar confirmation in her hand.

42.

Before her son even knew what was happening she began stuffing food into his mouth. More fruit snacks. More Apple juice.

The rest of the afternoon and evening consisted of an uncovered banana after school, and uncovered donut, and then dinner where she bolused him less than half of the carbs that were consumed. The nighttime yielded more uncovered snacks and two temporary basals of zero for an hours time each.

He woke up the next morning 95 and has been fighting lows the entire day since.

----------------------------------------------------

This has happened before, and it has happened many times to my friends. When they reach out to the community and ask, 'why,' I always respond with the phrase, "Diabetes hardly ever makes sense...and trying to figure out why will only make our brains swellier."

But when one is in the thick of this mysterious conundrum, one really has to say...WHAT THE WHAT! WHY THE WHY! HEAVENS TO BETSY, SLOW THIS TRAIN DOWN!

Unsolved mysteries gather and multiply throughout our community every day. Diabetes is math. And math SHOULD make sense. But our bodies are so much more complicated than ratios and hard numbers. Our bodies are miracles, and it is blaringly obvious that as a human community we haven't figured out all the subtle nuances our bodies have to offer. If we pooled our money and hired the most talented detective alive, I'm sure most...if not all our unsolved mysteries, would stay just like that...unsolved.

There are a million and one reasons why these lows could be happening. Unfortunately, there are a million and one reasons why I'll probably never know for sure which reason it is.

In the meantime, I will SWAG my way through this episode and hope that we come out on top very soon.

Donut anyone?

And the toes have it.

2012-01-30T09:11:00.000-08:00

It came out of nowhere. How in the world did this idea pop into his head? Did I joke with him about it? How does he even know this is a possibility? Was it his older brother that filled him in? Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?

Basically, B came into the family room on Saturday night and declared:

"Tonight, when you check my sugar while I am sleeping...I want you to check my toes."

"Why?" My husband and I questioned in unison.

"My fingers just need a break."

And with that he whipped around and walked resolutely out of the room.

My husband and I looked at each other warily. We were sure this germ of an idea had to be planted by someone. Now don't get me wrong, I know that there are plenty people in the world that test nightly on toes. Our family was just never one of them. I think maybe we posed the possibility to J when he was younger and were met with so much resistance it became a non issue. I'm sure we abandoned the idea altogether before B was even born.

"Are we really going to check his toes?" Asks my husband

"Ummm, I think we have to." Responds me.

At 10pm that night I found B laying in the wrong direction on his full size bed, his bare foot hanging off the edge...

Above him was a hurriedly made sign that read:

So we did it. For the first time ever, we checked his toes all night long. (I do admit that I checked his finger to get an idea if the two numbers would be in the same ballpark. I suppose that is all part of a D mothers wiring. We have double check, and be sure we aren't doing anything crazy when we try something new.)

The next morning B came running into our bedroom, so excited he was going to burst.

"So???? Did you do it????"

"Do what?"

"Did you check my toes last night????"

"Yes."

"That is SO awesome!"

He started to run out of the room when I stopped him.

"Hey. Who gave you this toe idea?"

"I gave the idea to myself. I just want my fingers to get a little break. That's all."

The mother in me wonders if someone said something about the black spots that dot his fingertips. But for now I'll try not to meddle and just do what my sweet boy asks. He deserves to make these kinds of choices. It is his body after all.

Reenactment: Too much information

2012-01-27T09:56:00.000-08:00

My husband and I have a lot of conversations over the phone. He is usually gone before I wake up, and he drives around all day to see clients. I drive around all day being a mom. As a result, we are always trying to catch up with what is going on in each other's lives.

(P.S. The mySentry has been off the past two days as J asked me to wait until Friday to put the CGM on him. He is next in the lineup!)

This is our conversation that took place yesterday.

((((((Ring)))))))

Him: "Hey babe! How are you doing?"

Me: "Better, now that I'm on the way home. The kids in L's class were pretty feisty today. You?"

Him: "My clients are a little feisty today too."

Me: "Hey, what were the boys blood sugars at 2?"

Him: "Hey, yeah...what did they wake up at?"

Me: "I asked you first."

Him: "They were all good. I had to bolus B though, he was like 210."

Me: "What? He went to bed at 210. I gave him a full correction. That isn't right. I have a feeling we are going to have to up his evening basals."

Him: "But yesterday he went to bed 105 and was sixty-something at 2am."

Me: "Will this kid just develop a pattern already! L was 80 this morning. What happened?"

Him: "Happened? What "happened" is he was 170 and I gave him half a correction. That is weird."

Me: "Weird is J. He woke up higher today. But I'm pretty sure he has been waking up in range every day before this. Hey, maybe B's correction ratio is off. When he is in range he is fine, or low...but when he is high he doesn't go down. I'm brilliant!"

Him: "The other night he was 68, I gave him 5oz of orange juice and temp basaled zero for 30 minutes and he still woke up 80. I don't get it."

Me: "Wait, who are we talking about?"

Him: "J."

Me: "When did we skip to J? We were talking about...wait...who were we talking about?"

Him: "Maybe we need to start writing this stuff on the whiteboard again."

Me: "You think!??? My brain is coming out of my ears. He shouldn't have woken up that low."

Him: "Who, J or L?"

Me: "I've gotta go, I need to bang my head against a wall."

Him: "I've gotta go anyway, I'm at my next customer."

Me: "Love."

Him: "Love."

Emotional Whack-a-Mole.

2012-01-24T19:52:00.000-08:00

It is confusing. Knowing how I'm supposed to feel. Being a caregiver of three children with Diabetes, I am expected to feel many emotions, take on many different attributes...all at one time. Is it no wonder my brain is swelly?

I'm expected to be brave: Allowing my 14 year old go away on a camp out for the weekend. Bravery. Allowing my 10 year old to attend Basketball Camp for 8 hours without me. Bravery. Allowing my 8 year old to go on an all day fieldtrip without me. Bravery. I have to keep a stiff upper lip and jump into the trust pool with both feet.

I'm expected to be strong: I want to cry all the time. But for the sake of being a semi-normal person in society, I must find the strength to believe there is a purpose in all of this. I've found it is easy to be bitter. Letting things go requires a strength that is not often recognized by society.

I'm expected to be vulnerable: I have to let myself feel for the sake of staying human. I must find times to cry to release the emotions and let life know I'm not a robot.

I'm expected to be humble: I can't believe that I know everything. I have to be willing to learn from everyone...even in the most unlikely of places.

I'm expected to be confident: I can't let the boys leave for school in the morning without exuding confidence in my decisions. They need to know I feel good about the decisions I have made, so they can enjoy their time away from me.

I'm expected to be certain: I must be certain that I entered in the numbers correctly. I must be certain that I used all of my best SWAGing abilities. I must be certain I did all I could for them to be safe.

I'm expected to be uncertain: I must always question myself. Second guess, and in turn...double check what I do.

I'm expected to be loving: I can't let my anger at the numbers bleed over to how I treat my children. They need to know that they are not at fault for my mood swings...or even some blood sugar swings for that matter.

I'm expected to be angry: Just angry enough to find the fight inside myself to keep going. The fight that says this disease won't win. I will keep my boys safe!

I'm expected to be wary: I must look at the pros and cons of everything. Educated decisions always. And when I listen to people I must always know that they are biased one way or the other...but that their opinion is based on experience, so there is always something to take away. It is up to me to find that nugget of wisdom in everything I read and hear.

I'm expected to be harsh: I have to be harsh on myself sometimes. Whether I like it or not, guilt is a motivator.

I'm expected to be forgiving: I have to forgive myself for forgetting to bolus. I must forgive the boys for forgetting to bolus. I have to know it isn't always my fault, and if it is my fault, I must understand that I am human.

I'm expected to be concerned: When that phone rings from the school and it isn't our designated time...I'm concerned. But, I also need to be concerned about how diabetes is affecting the boys. I need to be concerned about their mental well being as well as their physical well being...always.

I'm expected to be nonchalant: When someone asks how things are going, I'm expected to say, "Ahh, just fine. And you?"

I'm expected to be a fighter: My children come first. If I think they need to see the doctor, I will fight to see the doctor, even when the advice nurse thinks it isn't needed. I will fight for the rights of my children, and for their freedoms when it comes to Our Diabetic Life. I will fight every blood sugar number under 90 and above 120.

I am expected to be a schmuck: I need to take punch after punch after punch and not get up and punch life back. I need to take a few harsh blows...and understand that is the way life works.

I am expected to be rejoicing: Every moment I have with these boys is a miracle. I can't lose sight of the fact that we are blessed beyond measure to have access to insulin, blood sugar monitors, pumps and CGMs.

I am expected to be serious: Every decision I make is life saving. Every time I forget it means potential danger for my children. My choices affect my boys in an intimate, very real way. I need always to be cognoscente that diabetes is a serious...real...disease.

But regardless of all of this: I'm expected to be unaffected.

I need to feel all of this and not show it, well all the time anyway. (Or even all at ONE time.) I'm a mother and a wife first and foremost, which means keeping all of these emotions in check so I don't scare the crap out of anyone. It is almost like my emotions are one big Whack-a-Mole game. Each emotion pops its head up, and before I can get a handle on it, the next one or two pop up in its place. My mallet is in overdrive trying to keep up with all the emotions/moles on the table.

Who expects all this of me? Or what? Is it life? Is it me? Right now I can't answer that. All I know is I've been dealt this hand and I will play it.

Even though all of this is expected by the cosmos, it doesn't mean I'm not free to just be me. And if being me means schizophrenic-feeling-palooza...then so be it.

Because when I least expect it, feelings change...and that makes life more interesting.

Seriously, who wants a boring life anyway?

I choose my life any day of that week. Emotional Whack-a-Mole and all.

CGM: Quality sleep, not quantity sleep.

2012-01-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

(Before you read this you should know, I'm not a doctor. I'm just a mom relating her personal experiences with the CGM. If you have any questions, call your doctor, your CDE, or contact Medtronic directly.)

I'm a fan of the CGM, but it has a lot of issues...not the least of which is it's always on, and it always has something to say.

Always on means constant information shooting our way. I don't know about you, but I have a love/hate relationship with information. On one hand, information is power. On the other hand, "SHUT UP I DON'T WANT INFORMATION ANYMORE!! MY BRAIN IS GOING TO EXPLODE!!!

We've had good runs and bad runs with the CGM, there are so many variables it is hard to distinguish which direction it will all go from the onset of a new sensor.

Before I get more in depth, I'm going to show you the technical side of the Medtronic CGM. Because you asked, and because it is always best to start from the ground up.

This is the needle that we insert the sensor with. (Don't worry, after inserted with a long rocket type device, the needle is pulled out.)

We insert the sensor into the child/lion and then we wait 20 minutes for the wire inside to "wet." (I know that I stupidly put the CGM into the place that would be your child's belly button. This is not accurate. The CGM does NOT go in the belly button, lol! It will go on the side of his/her tummy or hips.)

Then we attach the actual transmitter and wait a couple hours for the CGM to ask for its first BG.

Here is a picture of what a pump site and a sensor looks like together. We usually use some IV 3000 tape to secure the CGM.

After we enter the first BG the sensor will begin transmitting numbers to the pump. (There is no giant receiver like on the Dexcom, it is all integrated.) On the pump we will be able to see graphs, numbers and arrows indicting whether BG's are going up or down. Is this number accurate? That depends on many variables. We find that once in awhile we get a good box of sensors and numbers are very close. Other times we get a not so good box and the numbers just don't ever line up. (This is a personal theory, and I'm stickin to it.) We have also found that the CGM doesn't like a lot of giant swings. It finds it hard to keep up if you will, and accuracy can be spotty. I depend mostly on the directional arrows with this device. Because it is measuring values from the subcutaneous fluid, and not actual blood, the numbers will often vary. (Directional arrows tell you if the blood sugar is trending up, or down.) Sometimes though the stars align and everything is spot on. When B wore it last week, this was the case. When we put it on L he bled too much and the sensor just was never spot on. I think the unpredictability of this device is the biggest frustration. If every time we got the same accuracy and results, the CGM would be our best friend. But I admit the unpredictability could be attributed to user error. I error a lot. I'm only human.

Does it hurt going in? I'm sure it does. But we put numbing cream on the boys twenty minutes before hand, and hand to heaven they do not feel the insertion. Because L was bleeding so profusely we had to put his CGM in a couple times. He looked away and honestly asked if we had done it yet...after it was in. He is our most sensitive child. One bad experience and he will not try anything again "ever!" The fact that he let us insert it again is very telling that the cream works. If you don't have access to numbing cream, (it is expensive,) I've heard others had good results with using ice to numb beforehand, and even read on facebook yesterday that someone found a product over the counter at Walmart called Dermoplast numbing spray. Worth a try.

Calibrating is an important task when using the CGM. We calibrate 3 times a day. When they wake up, when they get home from school, and at the 2am check. Calibrate means you put in the blood sugar number and answer "yes" to a question that pops up, saying you want the CGM to use this number as a new baseline. The numbers will jump off from that point, rather than the number it was on. Often the numbers can be very close...but calibration is not negotiable, as the alarms will unmercifully tell you.

One of the cool features on the Medtronic CGM include predictive alerts. If you choose to turn this option on, the pump will alarm when your child is at a certain number and the arrow is pointed down, or up. This is genius. Saved B from a couple lows...and a high too. There are a lot of alarms. You need to program the parameters in the pump just right as to not drive you or your child crazy. "Lost sensor," "BG Now," "Predicted high," "predictive low." "Low," "Sensor ending," etc...

How long does a sensor last? The FDA approves only for three days. The FDA doesn't have to wear it though and reinsert it into their child. I have heard rumors of people using it for much longer, restarting the old sensor as a new one and beating the system. I'm admitting to nothing...but it is best to ask your doctor what they think. (I'm not a doctor, btw. Although I play one in real life...)

Do my kids "like" wearing it. No. Does it bother them. Not really. They wear it and don't complain at all. Just for some reason they resist putting it on again after it is off. Obviously freedom is a huge motivator. If your child is a light sleeper and wakes up for all the alarms, that isn't fun either. My boys don't wake up...but on bad nights, it does mess with their sleep patterns.

Which leads me to my last topic. Many people want these kind of devices so they can, "finally get some sleep already!" Does the CGM help parents sleep more? No. Does the CGM help make the sleep you do get become a more quality, deeper sleep? Yes. Having this tool as a backup puts my mind at rest. But there are nights when the alarms keep me up. Without the mySentry, I could never really hear the alarms at night. Now that I do, I'm not sleeping more...but I am sleeping better. Some of my friends use baby monitors to hear the alarms at night. Hey, whatever works!

Quality sleep...not quantity sleep. That is the message I want to send out today. The CGM can be annoying at times, but it is such a valuable tool that often the good outweighs the bad. Every child is different...will your child tolerate it? I can't tell you that. Your child's diabetes my vary...and their tolerance too.

Continuing the mySentry dialog.

2012-01-20T08:52:00.000-08:00

Thank you for your questions the other day! Today I'm going to post answers to the mySentry questions, Monday I will have a long beautiful post explaining ALL about the CGM and how it works!

I'm going to start by saying that Wed night we had to take off Ben's CGM. He was ice skating and bumped it pretty good. (In other words, he fell flat on his stomach a dozen times.) I made the call and pulled it...and TOTALLY regretted it the next morning. He went to bed with a BG of 132, he was 125 at 2:00am...and then woke up almost 400.

What the what?!!

Oh how I wished I was warned about this ahead of time. We didn't get that sugar down until almost lunch time as a result. OK...enough crying. I have the CGM on L now...onward!

Many asked about how far B could be from the receiver for us to still see the readings. Honestly, I had to do some detective work...and it looks like I didn't have a clear picture of what was going on before. (I blame it on the combination of my epic flu and my perpetually swelly brain.) Our house is newer, and only about 2000 square feet. It is a completely open floor plan, not a lot of walls. From what I could see, B could roam freely and the graphs would still show on the receiver. However, it turned out that every time he spent a minute or two near the outpost, it would send the updated data to the receiver. When he ventured to the other part of the house, the receiver would simply be searching for data. Our floor plan works in our favor, because the boys TV/Hang out room is on the other side of the wall from the outpost in his bedroom, and the bathroom is about 5 ft away. He spends a lot of time in that little triangle, and it seems that is why I was getting constant streams of information. Your house/your walls may vary. mySentry is made for nighttime monitoring, but it seems I get the added bonus of a little more wiggle room, and a little more fun.

Below are some points that answer some of the questions I received:

The receiver updates its data about every five minutes from the outpost/pump. That is why, when B ran to get some water, or a snack in the front of the house, there was no interruption in reception.

I didn't move the receiver at all. I kept it in my room. It was easily visible from my bedroom doorway. The outpost stayed put too.

The pump needs to be within 6 ft or so from the outpost, and the receiver needs to be within 50 ft of the outpost. I found it went a bit farther than that, but it depends on your walls/your house.

The mySentry works exclusively with the revel insulin pump by Medtronic. Sorry...it won't work with Animas pumps, OmniPods or Dexcom CGM's. :(

Medtronic has told me that a mySentry for multiple T1's is definitely on their radar. They can't talk about it...which believe it or not, is very encouraging. We have only one CGM that we share between the boys. We only put it on them when basals are off and I need an inside look at what is going on. Last summer we took a vacation to Disney, and no one has worn one since. I am expecting another CGM in the mail any day now, so we will have two in the house to take advantage of. The last year it has literally been, out of sight, out of mind...but it is back in the rotation again, and that makes me uber happy. They are so enlightening!

Originally I thought that one outpost/receiver was all I needed. Only one wears the CGM at a time...usually I have one boy with wonky numbers at a time, (although the stars have aligned against us on more than one occasion!) After working with the mySentry for a few days though...I came to the uncomfortable conclusion that complete peace of mind, for ME, will only come when I see three graphs in front of me. Don't get me wrong, the one I have is a dream, I don't take it for granted at all. And I'd rather see one boy, than no boys, that is for sure. I can't imagine how life changing it would be for a family with one type 1. The fates gave us three though. One day...

Regarding the high price of the mySentry system...Medtronic is actively doing what they can to ensure access to mySentry for as many people as possible, including seeking reimbursement. Thankfully, they do have a positive track record of gaining coverage for new types of diabetes technology (i.e. CGM) with the help of patients and healthcare providers advocating for these therapies. (For those interested in how to pursue coverage from their insurance company, there is a Reimbursement Tool Kit for download here: http://www.medtronicdiabetes.net/Transformer_Form_Request_Information)

They are also offering a 20 percent introductory discount, no-interest payment plans for as low as $50/month, and financial assistance for families who meet certain income requirements.

I'm sure the cost of developing, marketing and getting regulatory approval are nothing to sneeze at. It is the first of its kind. Obviously, this device isn't marketed to the millions of people that other devices are, so the cost is going to be higher than we hoped for. I'm sure that they would rather have it cheaper and more accessible for sure, but quality and quantity are huge factors. Will the price go down? I personally hope so, but I have no idea. I guess only time will tell. Medtronic will work with you though, call them or email loopblog@medtronic.com with any questions, pricing or otherwise.

Some completely random facts about the mySentry:

It has a nightlight at its base that you can turn on. I'm assuming this is for PWD who would like to check sugars without turning on a light.

The volume of the alarms can be adjusted, and so can the brightness of the screen. I have the screen very dim, but my husband is the kind of person that hates even the tiniest bit of light emanating from anything. (He often encourages me to turn my clock away from the bed.) I don't get it, when your eyes are closed you don't SEE the light! But to him, the mySentry is like having the international space station in our bedroom.

On the mySentry you can enter the users initials and choose a cartoon like picture to represent said individual. Why are all the pictures of hipster adults? I have children. From what I can see they are marketing it to families with T1 Children...where are the children pictures? The only blond guy in there has a beard, so that is who I have representing L right now.

My only complaint , other than the obvious multiple user conundrum, is that the mySentry doesn't show IOB. That isn't a deal breaker, but man, that would be oh so nice to see.

Did I answer all your questions? Let me know if I missed anything. Monday I will have a post with everything Medtronic CGM and answer all the questions pertaining to that. I'll be sure to include pictures, how it works, what it sends its data too, if my boys like wearing it, and everything in between!

My new blog construction is almost completed...whatcha think?

mySentry: My diary of the first 3 days.

2012-01-18T07:52:00.000-08:00

You're in the right place! My blog is under construction. Please bear with me!
_______________________________________________________________________________

I have so much to share and only so much brain capacity. I've been sitting here staring at the screen for five minutes and have decided to just begin typing and see where it takes me.

I want to start out saying that I fully understand how completely blessed I am to have the mySentry sitting on my bedside table at this very minute. It is the beginning of something wonderful, and I have this unshakable feeling that this is bigger than what it seems to be.

On the outside it seems so simple. A monitor that displays your child's CGM graphs, directional arrows, BG number, Reservoir units, battery life and more. But on the inside, you know...my inside...it is peace of mind, and that is such an overwhelming feeling I can't wrap my head around it.

(If you are not sure WHAT the mySentry is, please check out my post about it HERE: And all the links attached to it!)

This is one of the pictures that was released with the the mySentry:

Yeah...I didn't look like that. Most of you know that last week I was on my deathbed with the flu of the century. Included in the perfect storm of an ear infection and a sinus infection...I also had pink eye. The word "mess" doesn't even seem to cover it. So I was in my sweats, with bright red eyes, and a headache the size of Mt. Everest the first two nights I worked with the mySentry. Needless to say, my experiences were under "real life" circumstances, not nighttime perfect hair, cute nightgown, lab conditions.

Below is my thought process throughout the weekend.

Day 1: This UPS guy probably thinks I'm a junky. Bright red eyes, not a stitch of makeup, and obviously full of some kind of medication...but yet I smiled and I smiled wide. It has arrived! IT. HAS. ARRIVED!

Wait. I need to slap a CGM on someone. Who? Who will be my lab rat? Ahhh! B! He is my most mellow...AND he had the highest A1C last week...brilliant!

After inserting the CGM, which B took like a champ, my husband and I set to our room to set up the mySentry and to synch the pump and the outpost. I checked the clock to time us...we were expecting a good half hour...it took 8 minutes from opening the box to having it ready to go. Winning!

As I laid on the bed: I'm never going to sleep again. I'm just going to stare at this pretty graph all night...I just know it. (Snore.)

Now before I go on, you should know that I didn't read the instruction booklet before we went to bed. I was sick and my eyes hurt. This was a mistake. The alarm went off ALL NIGHT LONG. I was beside myself with confusion. I would silence it and it would just go off again and again. Later I found out that you can mute the alarm by pressing the silence button TWICE. I did not know that, obviously. There was one High BG alarm that I got up and fixed and then there were a couple where it couldn't find the pump. I'm chalking night one up to a rookie mistake. Do over!

Onto Day 2:

It was the weekend, so I spent much of my day walking by my bedroom door to look at the graph. Hello, awesomesauce! I know when we used the CGM in the past the boys would be beyond annoyed with me when I would ask them to take out their pump so I could see the graph and the number. This device sets them free of that...when we are at home anyway. That night when we went to bed, I was ready. I let the lights on the graph lullaby my eyes to sleep and night 2 began.

12:00am ALARM. High BG. B has been sick and his BG was over 250. This is the first big victory. I had bolused him an hour and a half before. I wouldn't have known for a couple hours that he was going up, (rather than down,) if it weren't for that alarm. I went in and bolused him and things were quiet until 12:30.

12:30am ALARM. It is alarming that it can't find a signal. I'll just quiet it with the silence button. A few minutes later...ALARM. I will quiet it again. A few minutes later...ALARM! At this point I have two choices. I can go in there and flip B over so there is a signal again, or I can MUTE the alarm altogether until the 2am check. I choose MUTE. (I was dying, remember!)

I got up at 2am and did my rounds, where I was forced to bolus B again. I was so thankful I had an eye on the graph, I hate bolusing before the first bolus has run its course. I turned the alarm sound back on and the rest of the night was quiet. I woke up periodically on the hour because of my head cold, and in a blurry haze smiled at the CGM graph in front of me. Flat line...all was well.

DAY 3.

11:45pm. Low alarm. Tears. Feed B. This thing is magic. It would have been another TWO hours before I checked him.

3:00am Alarm that I need to calibrate the CGM. "Thanks for the reminder" >Quiet! It keeps alarming. Apparently this is non negotiable. I always calibrate at 2:00am check, but this time forgot. My mistake. I jump up and check again and calibrate and there are no other alarms the rest of the night.

This is what I woke up to the next morning:

Is it not beautiful?

Tomorrow I will post my thoughts and post answers to the questions that many of you have, incuding:

"Will I ever be able to afford this?"

"You have three boys, how is this ONE gadget, that works with only ONE child at a time, going to help you?"

"And, how do you really feel about it?"

If you have any other questions, please feel free to leave them in the comments section and I will try my very hardest to answer those too!

Believe.

2012-01-12T09:24:00.000-08:00

She said it four times. I couldn't look her in the eye the first three, but on the fourth time I had to look to make her stop saying it.

"Meri, you are doing a great job."

Why did she keep saying it? I'm doing a pretty good job. I mean, I'm no Madam Curie or anything. I know I can do better. If I put my heart into it, I can probably improve on those A1C's...

"Meri, you are doing a great job."

As I lay in bed last night just about to surrender to sleep her words echoed in my swelly brain. I know she wanted them to sink in, I don't know how she did it, but her tone was firm yet soft at the same time. I know she knows I am hard on myself. Was she trying to ease the guilt? Or was she really speaking the truth?

Nah. I rolled over and thought of all the ways I can improve our diabetes management at home. I was deep into my list and again, almost into dreamland, when somewhere deep in my subconscious I heard it one more time:

"Meri, you are doing a great job."

And this time I listened.

And for one brief euphoric moment I let myself drink in every ounce of those words. I felt the rush of letting those words rinse away years of inadequacy and if onlys.

My yoke was lifted and for those fleeting seconds I felt like I could fly. I allowed myself to believe and the freedom my soul felt in that small moment was so overwhelming, the tears came.

I don't know if this moment was sponsored by a higher force, or just my cough medicine....but let me tell you, I'll never forget that feeling in that moment as long as I live.

Don't worry, I didn't wake up with a big head this morning. I'm back to being my own fallible self who has a ton to work on. But I have to think that there is something to this believing thing. I wonder if believing I am doing a good job will take the edge off my guilt, or if it will only make me soft and lead to me slacking on my pancreatic duties.

I'm going to take a leap of faith, and sporadically give this believing thing a shot, and then return and report to you.

Who knows...maybe it will lead to a revolution for all of us! A new day of release from all that weighs us down!

There has got to be a better way. I've let guilt control me for so long I seriously think my body is deteriorating from it all. The words our endo said were so simple, but so powerful.

"Meri, you are doing a great job." I think I will hang those words on my wall to commemorate the small instant I truly believed. Maybe it will lead to more moments like that and I will be able to slowly but surely release my guilt in small, healing doses.

It's so flipping crazy...it just might work!

onward.

2012-01-09T11:21:00.000-08:00

I'm real people sick.

My husband is out of town today and I am on my own. So as I get ready to bring the boys to school I am VERY careful to have them all prepared diabetes wise so I don't have to bring my ashen white face and shaky aching body out of the house again.

I have to bring them to school. But I'll be darned if I'll go back to those schools today because of a simple oversight on my part.

I'm not sure what their supply boxes look like at school, so I carefully pack their backpacks to replenish them.

Just in case.

I give all three boys two extra vials of test strips.

I give all three boys apple juices for lows.

I pack all three boys cell phones and made sure every one of them was charged.

I checked all three pumps to make sure they were full of insulin and had battery life.

I checked all three pumps to make sure they all gave themselves breakfast insulin.

I check that the meter in J's backpack still has a viable battery after sitting unused for two weeks.

I double check all backpacks to make sure they put their lunches inside.

I covered it all.

Zipped them all to school, practically threw them out of the car, came home and as I walked in caught in the corner of my eye a place in the living room where the sun was hitting the couch...the perfect remedy for my chills. I grabbed a warm blanket, staggered into the living room and winced at the sight of myself in the entry mirror. Pathetic. Not pretty. That is all I have to say about that.

"Thank goodness I don't have to leave the house again until 2:00." I say to myself. "Diabetes won't be messing with me today!" Actually, that was thought up sans the exclamation mark. There was no energy left to be perky. I didn't sleep at all the night before.

As I laid down I was grateful despite myself. I thought how the boys feel nauseous from ketones and endure so much, I thought how I have acquaintances on chemotherapy who feel nauseous for days, weeks, months. I thought I won't be sick forever and that is a blessing.

And then I slept. In the warm glow of the morning sun, content and satisfied until the littles called me with their snack time numbers at 10:05.

B: 121

L: 127

My head aches and my throat feels like I swallowed a parade float, but I can rest! Joyful day!

And as I lay my head back down on my pillow, my phone says, "DING!"

That "DING!" is a text.

I reluctantly, slowly, pick up the phone and there in black and white is a text from my oldest son...who does not have diabetes:

"Hey I forgot my sax. Help please!"

Sometimes I forget I'm a mom, not just a pseudo pancreas.

Onward!

Actually today, it's more like...

onward.

Love the one you're with.

2012-01-05T08:17:00.000-08:00

I don't want to overly simplify my feelings towards diabetes. Complicated doesn't even seem to scratch the surface. All I know is that for now...diabetes is staying put. And since that is the case, I will now endeavor to riff off the old Stephen Stills song, "If you can't have the pancreas you love honey, love the pancreas you're with."

I've spent many a year loathing diabetes and its long line of insane protocols. When my third was diagnosed I'm pretty sure I melted into a puddle of tears and bitterness for a good nine months. Looking back, those deep seeded feelings of hatred and helplessness have only brought me three things: Heartache, TMJ from clenching/grinding my teeth, and Carpal Tunnel from writing it all out on my blog. Letting go of the anger isn't easy, in fact, I don't even know if letting it ALL go is possible. But what I do know is coming to terms with this disease, ACCEPTING this disease, loving our life WITH this disease...well that yields things like a better night's sleep, and a more relaxed me.

My children and my spouse respond to my cues. If they see me worried...they are worried too. If they see me angry and upset...that angers them and upsets them too. Am I walking around the house singing praises to diabetes? Heck no! But am I trying to put it all into perspective? Yes.

I understand that everyone has different perspectives on everything. To one of us 80 is the perfect number, to another 100...to another 150. We all are individuals with minds of our own. In the spirit of New Year resolutions, I'm going to take what I know and mold it into something more beautiful. I challenge you to try too.

I know diabetes is hard.

I also know that enduring hard things molds us into more empathetic human beings.

I know that diabetes hurts.

I also know that the sensation of pure torture I feel when pricking my virgin fingers is completely different than the sensation my boys feel.

I know that diabetes is expensive.

I also know that my boys healthy futures are worth every penny of promising technology I can find.

Perspective.

Fighting diabetes...hating diabetes....it is ok. But letting those things take over is not. Hate is like acid to our body, literally and figuratively. It isn't healthy to live with perpetual sadness and helplessness.

Sometimes I just need to stand up and say, "They are ok! I am Ok! We will survive!"

Saying it out loud is liberating. Believing it is life changing.

We can love our lives with diabetes as a part of it. We can accept our lot in life and find joy in the little things even with diabetes strolling along side. Diabetes will always will be with us...which leads me back to the beginning...

Maybe our lives aren't' everything we imagined they would be. But after diagnosis it is possible to imagine a new life. Can't we love that life too? Can't that life be just as amazing as the first? It may be a bit more complicated, but with diabetes in the mix, our victories are sweeter and the good days are triumphs in themselves.

I wonder if in the end, It all comes down to loving the life you're with.

mySentry and myDisclosure.

2012-01-04T11:33:00.000-08:00

Few things in life bring my heart to a twitter more than technology that will make life easier on the diabetes front.

Today my heart sings.

Medtronic has announced that the FDA has approved the mySentry Remote CGM Monitor.

Coupled with the Medtronic Guardian CGM, this will be my window to the my son's "inside world."

According to Medtronic's fact sheet:

• mySentry consists of a Monitor, an Outpost, and a power supply cord.

– The Monitor is intended to be placed in one room (e.g. parents’ room) where it displays continuous glucose readings and delivers customizable alerts to caregivers.

– The Outpost is plugged into the wall in another room (e.g. child’s room) with the person with diabetes and relays data received from his/her insulin pump to the Monitor.

– The power supply cord is a 5V DC cord that powers the Monitor.

• To indicate whether any action is required, mySentry’s icons on the home screen appear as green (no action needed), yellow (warning), or red (action is needed).

mySentry delivers the same audible alerts and alarms available on the Paradigm Revel pump, including:

– Predictive alerts – customizable alerts that warn of oncoming highs or lows up to 30 minutes before they occur, allowing patients to take action to prevent or reduce the severity of a high or low glucose event.

– Rate of change alerts – customizable alerts that notify patients of rapid changes in glucose levels so immediate correction can be taken after taking a confirmatory fingerstick.

– Threshold alerts – customizable alerts that notify the user that glucose has crossed a pre-set low or high target.

– Empty reservoir – notification that the pump reservoir does not contain any insulin.

No delivery – notification if insulin delivery has been interrupted.

Here is a video telling all about it.

Does it not give you perma-grin?

I am bursting at the seams to try this beauty out! Full disclosure: Medtronic will be providing our family with a pump upgrade for L, a CGM Starter Kit and a mySentry and, in exchange, I’ll be doing some guest blogging for them at The LOOP. This blog remains my thoughts and mine alone. I am not required to love it. I will be honest and let you know exactly what I think of it all.

But right now...since I am being totally honest...it is taking everything I have not to do a jig on the dining room table. No, it won't be hooked up to all three. One boy at a time. I'll choose the one that has the roughest nights and go from there.

It is an exciting jump for Diabetes kind, and methinks it is just the beginning of a new generation of connectivity from Medtronic and beyond! This device is available to the public, but not yet covered by insurance companies. You can find out more about it HERE.

Let the adventure begin!

Our Diabetic Life in summary: Circa 2011.

2011-12-31T15:32:00.000-08:00

I took the time yesterday to read through many of last years posts. I have to say, I rode the roller coaster in 2011, and I rode it well. My ups were way up there, and my downs were way down there. I wish I could say I rode it with the intensity and excitement of a real thrill seeker, but shockaprisingly enough...I wasn't nearly as enthusiastic about it all as I should have been. I think I've finally made my way off the coaster for now. It only took 12 months...but the problem lies within the problem. Diabetes isn't going anywhere. As long as my boys are still effected, the roller coaster will rumble by soon enough and scoop me up, I am sure.

Strolling down Memory Lane brought back a mess of feelings I've been shoving down. I've learned a lot about myself scrolling through the pages of my life. I've chosen a sampling...a true showing of my heart this past year.

Take the ride with me.

January: I started the month Finding my way as the Unicorns fled. The very first week of 2011, L came and sat on my lap, put his two hands on either side of my cheek, looked me directly in the eye and said he wished there was a magic potion to make diabetes disappear.

"I’ve been doing my best to fake it until I make it. It helps a little. Pretending I’m not overwhelmed with my baby’s words has helped me function. But the seed remains. The helplessness remains. It haunts me that the only reason I’m okay with all this, is because my boys are OK with all this. If they are not OK…then my swelly brain will not be contained. It will seriously blow up."

Emotional also, was the Changing of the Guard. I ended the month giving up the alarm clock that my cousin Todd gave my husband and I for a wedding gift. Todd passed away just a few years after my wedding from an aneurysm at the tender age of 27.

"I had no idea how significant the gift of an alarm clock would be on my wedding day. On that day I didn’t know that there would be nights that I would be setting the alarm to go off every hour, on the hour. I didn’t know of Our Diabetic life, or the heartache and worry that was ahead of me. Our boys were just a twinkle in our eyes back then. I’m sure Todd had no idea either.

I know our family has been given guardian angels to watch over the boys. I know it. So it leaves me to wonder, has Todd taken the post? Is the alarm clock a symbol of his steadfast duty? I don’t know. But the thought of it makes me smile through these tears. God bless alarm clocks...

And God bless Guardian Angels."

February: The first real holiday of the year and I blew it. In, Valentines day: wherein...I get knocked down, I learn the hard way that I can't be in three places at the same time. But I also learn that on holidays, it is OK to let kids live the dream. One moment of eating all the candy out of their bag didn't change the axis of their A1C's.

"We get knocked down...ALL THE TIME! But you know what...we get back up again, every time. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. We ALWAYS get back up. And that is something..."

March: I struggled with The Blood Sugar Check/No Pain Enigma. How is it that my boys don't flinch when they check their sugars? They say it doesn't hurt. I checked my own sugar and SON OF A GUN! It really hurt!! The answer to the enigma was simple as it turned out.

"I asked J how he thought it was. How come it doesn't hurt? He said, “I’m awesome. That is the only answer.”

I’m going to stop wracking my brain over this one and go with that. My boys are just awesome."

April: I was lucky enough to attend the blogger summit given by Medtronic. It was a humbling experience. My advocacy heart grew three sizes that day...

"I was bone dry.

I entered the airport terminal like a weathered sponge who had sat in the sun for days. My body ached for relief.

I didn't know what to expect from the Medtronic Advocate Forum I was to attend. It was a complete unknown, and although I was scared to death of traveling alone for the first time...to see people I had only seen within the 17 inch parameters of my computer screen, I couldn't help but smirk to myself as I walked through the jetway to the airplane...

I was ready."

In April I also wrote Teeter. Totter. Breathe.

"I'm on a teeter totter.

Every day.

Every hour.

Where will I wake up tomorrow? Will I be up? Will I be down? Will I be bracing myself in the middle?

Only tomorrow knows.

Too bad, the teeter totter isn't as fun as it looks.

I'd rather have both feet on the ground. I see people walk by me every day with their feet on the ground. I wonder if they know how lucky they are not to ride every day? I wonder if they have any idea how much I want to walk with my feet on the ground too?

I wonder if they even know I'm on the teeter totter?"

May: was the month of D Blog Week. I tackled the subject of my difference-ness in Ten Things I Can't Say to the Other Mothers.

"Sometimes I don't feel like I have a lot in common with the other moms. Sometimes when I pick up the boys, I just wish I could bust out with a little diabetes lingoed epiphany and get an AMEN from the peanut gallery. Sure, most of the time I can fake my normalcy and talk freely with the mothers in the hallway...but sadly, sometimes I'm just in another world with my thoughts."

June: I did not blog about a lot of things in Our Disneyland/Wally World Vacation.

"You might be thinkin' I have an entire post lined up about how L broke out into a Scarlet Fever rash THREE TIMES as worse than the others, hours before our departure...

Or maybe your hoping for the play by play of the previous hour, before his rash broke out, when L had his first swimming lesson with his NOT waterproof pump attached...

Or how we had to have a new pump sent to our hotel in Disneyland...

No...uh uh...I'm not writing about that.

I'm not even going to go into how we got the special assistance pass because I brought L with me to get it, and since he looked like he had leprosy...they started writing it out before I even explained why we needed it...

Maybe you're wondering if I'm going to write about all three boys jumping into the pool...with every one of them still wearing said un-waterproof pumps...

or about the fact that THAT led to yet ANOTHER pump being UPSed to Disney for us.

I'm not going to write about that...sorry."

July: I wrote my deepest feelings in, Diabetes is a Sailboat. My most viewed post of the year.

"But other days the storms come in out of nowhere. The black clouds close in and the numbers ebb and flow with the powerful tide. On those days, I watch my son ride those waves and I spend the day at my scope...determined to change the color of the clouds. If his boat capsized...I don't know what I would do.

Sure...he is above water. Sure...he is surviving. But on the stormier days his sea sickness weighs so heavy on my shoulders, I'm sure I am going to run out of strength, and one day drown into despair myself.

My son has grown up on his boat, and I am in awe every day of his constant vigilance, and his nimble control of his craft. He is an able captain now. He can hoist the sail, he can watch for the storm clouds. He can batten down the hatches. He can steer that boat away from immediate danger...he FEELS the sea. His intuition is inspiring.

Three boats I have set out to sea. It does not get easier. Every boat I have released has killed me a little bit inside. My husband and I live our lives on the shore waiting for storms, hoping for sun...watching each and every wave."

I kept the wave going in July with the Four Seasons to Diabetes.

"The winter days, those are the ones that are like sticky notes glued to our memories. The rain that falls from our tear ducts...the snow that chills our hearts to our blessings. There are the storms that toss the numbers around. There are the calms that lay before the storms that can give us a false sense of security. But during this time of year, most of us know...we KNOW...that when the calm is there, then it is time to lie in wait for the storm. Every day anticipating the winds to turn everything upside down."

August: I dared to pour out my feelings in the dead of night. In Finding My Fight at Midnight, I shared those haunting feelings of inadequacy that seem to haunt all of us during the early hours of the morning.

"The nighttime can be so cruel.

Devoid of light, my soul anguishes in my ineptitude.

Seeing two 400's staring back at me tonight didn't help things. In fact it began a tailspin that even I am worried I won't recover from.

In this nighttime all my hope is drowned away in pools of tears in my hands. All my positivity is enveloped in the black hole of my pity.

How is it ok that I am so completely responsible for my boys well being?

How is it ok that it is all on my shoulders?

Is this a cruel joke? Will my best ever be good enough?"

September: After a surprisingly pleasant endo visit I wrote A1C from A to Z to help me keep it all in perspective. I'm glad I went back to read it as we have appointments coming up in less than two weeks.

Ask yourself, "does this number define my worth?"

Be mindful that this number shows where you were, not where you are today.

Cast out the feelings of guilt and ineptitude.

Don't give up on yourself.

September also yielded There Are Some Things You Need to Know.

"You need to know that your child's blood sugars will never be 100% perfect all the time.

You need to know that you are stronger than you think you are.

You need to know that on the hardest of days, the fact that you don't give up counts for more than you know."

October: I let my mind go back to the simpler days in Remembering When my Middle Name was Ann.

"Today it feels like all the walls that I have built to protect me from my simpler past, are crumbling. I feel so vulnerable. The numbness is wearing off. I was able to keep myself numb to all the numbers for so long...and now it is like the doctor has turned off the anesthesia and I can FEEL. Every number burns. Every carb count FEELS like the most important decision of my life. The weight has returned and my back aches from the guilt."

November: I blogged every single live long day of this month. The one nearest to my heart is Dear 18 Year Old Me.

"You have worried about school tests, friendships and acne...but those worries don't even scratch the surface of the worry that will fill your entire being when your children are born.

They will be special. They will have needs that not many people will be able to comprehend. You will question if you are strong enough. You will question if your Heavenly Father truly knows how much you can handle...because there will be days he will give you ALL you can handle. Days when the heartache will feel like it will stop you heart at any moment.

But don't fear. Your children will be worth every sleepless night. Their resilience and their courage will inspire you to be better than you thought you could be. Stronger than you ever thought you would have to be. The refiners fire will mold the lives in your home into a true family."

December: I hold a lot of my feelings in sometimes..outside my blogger world anyway. And once in awhile that one day comes around when you just can't dam it all up anymore. In Yesterday it Flowed...the dam burst in typical Meri style...

"I can try my best all day long and those numbers won't always reflect that. I have so much guilt that I can't make them perfect. It is like a secret shame that I carry around with me. Inside I know I can't do better than my best. Logically I KNOW that. But emotionally...if I am honest...my best isn't the best I want it to be. I want to be best-er."

In 2012 I will endeavour to find the joy wherever and whenever I can. Reading through my thoughts I see loud and clear that I'm letting the guilt get the best of me. I am better than the guilt affords me. I will journey to set myself free. THAT is my New Year's Resolution.

I hope you'll continue to take this ride with me. This year will be much smoother...I'm sure of it!

Positive thinking people! POSITIVE THINKING!

Happy New Year!

A Virtual Switzerland.

2011-12-29T09:17:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling pretty neutral on this whole diabetes thing lately. I'm the virtual Switzerland if you will.

People are posting some pretty nasty things about the big D out there...and I have to say, I don't blame them one single bit.

It's not like I have anything NICE to say about it or anything. It's just right now, I have no feelings about it at all.

I'm numb.

Even 90's haven't brought up the joy they used to. 400's? Whatever. I've seen them before. Let's get busy and fix it.

Right now there is no victory and no defeat. It is all just there...threaded through everything we do. Embedded in every memory.

I'm struggling to know if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Will my lack of emotion in it all affect their A1C's? They boys have appointments in a couple weeks...you would think that would put the fear of god into my heart. But nope. I've got no feeling on the subject right now.

Does this mean that life has stepped ahead of diabetes and I'm finding my joy and grief in regular life stuff? Or does this mean Diabetes is bugging me so much I have built an unhealthy wall to mask the real feelings I have about all of this.

I fear that I will find out within the next week or two. With New Years coming I'll be forced to evaluate my pancreatic duties. I'll set myself subject to irrational goals and deep internal appraisal.

Whatever comes, right now I'm going to enjoy the nothingness that I feel and go find my joy in the eyes of my happy and content boys who are right this minute all huddled together playing a new video game.

It isn't always about diabetes, right? I guess I'm just questioning how I got it into the back seat...and the repercussions of it all. Maybe, just maybe...it is back there for the right reasons, and I have nothing to fear.

Because when it comes to the big D, I'd rather not know the REAL feelings I have lingering deep down in the recesses of my soul. They wouldn't be pretty. I know that for sure. In fact just thinking about it stirs up something, so I'll end now hoping to stuff it all back down.

I'm in the driver's seat now. Diabetes is stuck in the back. I just wish it would stop kicking the back of my seat. I really want to concentrate on the road ahead of me. The world is a beautiful landscape...if I keep diabetes behind me, it can't muck up the scenery.

The sunsets have never been so beautiful as they have the past couple weeks. Is that a coincidence? I just don't know.

My favorites

2011-12-27T09:36:00.000-08:00

Christmas is my favorite.

So much so, I'm going to list off all of my favorites that went with it this year. And to add a little yin to my yang...I'm going to let you know some of my least favorites too!

Favorite Christmas meal: Prime rib, peas and carrots, baked potato all with a bit of creamy horseradish.

Least favorite Christmas meal: Is there such a thing? Actually, we had prawns Christmas Eve...which isn't my thing. But my sweet hubby BBQ'd up some chicken for me too. Spoiled! I am so so spoiled, and I know it!

Favorite dessert this Christmas: Yoyo cookies made by my friend Tracy at the cookie exchange. A ton of butter, a little lemon in the middle...NEW FAVORITE BABY!

Least favorite dessert: Anything with raisins in it. Lucky for me, nothing of this sort was offered to me this year!

Favorite present: My new camera given to me by the love of my life...but my Cricut , my Cuisinart and my laminator are close seconds! I better start getting my creative/crafty on!

Least favorite present: The one that I ordered and came missing pieces, and a missing lid of all things.

Favorite Christmas moment: Finding a note to Santa in L's stocking. It read: "Santa, you are one of my favorite people. From, L." And then there was an arrow, on the back it simply said, "Write." A pencil was taped to the card. Santa was kind enough to respond that it was quite a coincidence as L was one of Santa's favorite people too!

Least favorite Christmas moment: Realizing that giving our 16 year old an xbox 360 would mean many MANY spirited conversations about which video games were appropriate, and which were not. Seriously, am I the only mother in the world who won't allow the game Halo in the house? I may just be...but I stand by my decision. I don't care that Bobby, Jan, Marsha, Greg, Cindy and Peter have it!

Favorite Christmas quote: When asking B what his sugar was, he responded, "I don't know yet. There's a long line."

Least favorite Christmas quote: "This is the worst Christmas of my life!" Spoken by L when he found out his older brother accidentally erased his game cube game.

Favorite new Christmas game: Sour Apples to Apples. Super cute!

Least favorite Christmas game: Trouble. It is so misleading, masking itself as a simple child's game. When in fact it is the devils game itself! Nothing brings out frustration more than not getting a six after 5 rounds. I specifically remember fighting with my best friends Shannon and Ericka over this game when I was a kiddo. Interesting fact: My mother in law said they used to have almost the exact same game in Germany when she was a child. The title translated was, "People, don't get too mad."

Favorite Christmas song: Baby it's cold outside. (But the right people have to be singing it.)

Least favorite Christmas song: I don't know the names, but Holly on XM Radio seems to play a lot of them.

More than anything though, my favorite thing about Christmas is being with all the boys and my hubby with no alarms, no places to be and no worries about homework deadlines. Of course Diabetes has spent the holiday with us...but it hasn't had too many tantrums. We have quarantined it to the guest room. It only streaked through the house once, but we got it back into its room in quick Schuhmacher butt-kicking fashion!

Hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas, or an awesome Hanukkah!

He feels it.

2011-12-20T10:33:00.000-08:00

As most of you know, J was diagnosed at 8 months old. When he was diagnosed he was so fragile the doctor wanted us to keep him between 200 and 300 for the first couple years. After that we inched down to 150-250. I think it was when he was 6, when we got him his first insulin pump, that we moved to keeping him in the 100's, and then at age 10 when we tried hard for low 100's.

You have to remember that insulin back when J was diagnosed was archaic. We had to give him his dinner insulin two hours before dinner. He had a long acting insulin called Lente, and later another called Ultra Lente. Neither were supposed to peak...but both did with J. There was a lot to consider, and his safety came first. (L and B were put on pumps right away. They never knew the days of "keeping them in the 200's.")

Sooo...J has felt the repercussions of the "highs" since he could remember. I imagine he thought that is just the way he was always supposed to feel. I remember vividly having a conversation when he was in first grade...

"J, you are 400...don't you feel that you are high. Don't you feel awful?"

"No. I just feel normal, Mama. This is the way I always feel!" And he happily skipped away.

Highs never affected my sweet boy...that is, until now.

I don't know how he does it, and I don't even know if this is the reason behind it all...but J keeps his blood sugars in such good control, I doubt I could do it myself. He is for sure one lucky duck as he is in the throes of puberty and generally that wreaks havoc on blood sugars. I suspect the havoc is in our future...but for now he is doing a pretty darn good job. That aside...he now feels when he is high.

In fact if he is above 250, he feels downright miserable. There has been a couple times in the last few weeks where he refused to eat dinner because he was in the 200's and didn't feel right.

There has been a shift, and as much as I hate to see him miserable when those 200's come...I'm thankful for his newfound awareness.

Not only that, I am thankful for the insulin pump that makes it so easy for him to bolus. I am thankful for the tools that lie within it to make controlling blood sugars amid puberty hormonal tidal waves a bit less impossible.

I am thankful that my son feels his lows...and now feels his highs.

My knowledge of this disease evolves every day. What has become very clear to me is sensitivities change with time. L couldn't feel a low to save his life when he was 3. Now he does. Now he can sniff out a low a mile away. Nothing ever stays the same with diabetes. There is always hope for a better day.

There is always hope.

There is always uncertainty.

There is always something new around the corner.

There is always change.

And sometimes...whether it be hard work or just plain luck...that change is for the better.

Do you hear what I hear?

2011-12-18T21:30:00.000-08:00

We've had a lot of hiccups in the diabetes arena the past twelve months. Smoothness seems like a bit of a myth these days while "incidents" have taken over our landscape.

Seriously, the kindest way to explain away the year is to simply say it has been "interesting." The boys have grown a foot each, we've used more blood ketone strips in the past two months alone than we have in the past 13 years... and to top it off each and every Sunday has yielded only mountains and valleys. Church falls during lunch hour this year. I've failed miserably trying to control their numbers while they weathered missing lunch altogether.

It isn't fair to say we have been failing...but if not failing, we certainly have done a ton of experimenting, and hopefully have gained enough knowledge because of it to make all the collateral heartache worth it.

Despite the 2011 crazies...I can't help but feel an echo of hopefulness in the air.

Somewhere the drum of hope beats. I feel its vibrations in my soul.

Everything is going to be alright.

I can't go back in time and fix all the gaffes. But I can look forward with optimism to our future.

Because here's the thing...we have survived. And more than that...we have grown stronger. Diabetes has thrown us so many curve balls, but yet we haven't stopped swinging. We haven't given up. We have learned how to handle the worst of situations on our own. We have learned not to take the good numbers for granted. We have learned that when things go our way it isn't a time to go into autopilot...on the contrary it is time to work hard to stay the course.

Bad numbers are a lot of work. Good numbers are a lot of work. Diabetes is a lot of work. And here we are still going strong. Even the most recent of our wounds have healed and we bear our battle scars proudly. I look at my boys and they beam with happiness. Isn't that a win?

Some days I hear the echoes of hope ever so faintly. It is the last of the echoes so far in the distance, I have a hard times acknowledging they are there.

But other days...like today...I feel like the echoes roll like thunder over and over again. I am inspired by the season. I am wrapped up in the blessings of our diabetic life. My boys are weathering the storm like the champions they are. I am one proud mother.

They can do this.

I can do this.

One ~~day~~ year at a time.

Don't do it.

2011-12-16T09:38:00.000-08:00

When your husband asks you to stay up later than planned to watch a show, and you KNOW he is going to fall asleep 20 minutes in and you'll be hooked and end up watching it alone...don't do it. (Just go to bed. Trust me. Choose sleep.)

When you are staying up later than planned and you think you will check sugars at a later time, rather than your regular time...don't do it. (You'll be even more tired than usual, and if things have gone south you'll be up for another hour troubleshooting.)

If you are dizzy from exhaustion and check your child and he is low...you might think to give him a new kind of juice he has never tried before...don't do it. (He'll try to spit it out because he's not used to the taste.)

If you give a child juice he never had and he refuses to drink it in his unconscious state...and you think you can coerce him into drinking it all within a reasonable time period...you would be wrong. Don't do it. (Try 20 minutes of begging him to drink when he would have eaten a banana in 20 seconds.)

If you have a child who's pump is alarming, you may try a shortcut to fix the problem. Don't do it. (It will never be as easy as taking the set off and putting it back on. The set and reservoir should always be changed out completely when it says no delivery.)

If you go to bed with looming problems, you might think it is a brilliant idea to set your spouse's alarm for him to get up in an hour's time to check on said issues. Don't do it. (He'll just think he set it on accident and turn it off.)

If you wake up at 5:00am and ask your husband if he did the check and he said no...don' t send him to check out the aftermath of your decisions. Just don't. (He'll just make you get up anyway to help.)

If you think sending your husband to fix the problems without telling him everything that happened the night before is a good idea, and he sees a no delivery...his first instinct will be to try a shortcut too. When ketones are involved...don't do it. (Tell him a detailed account of everything. I don't care if you are mentally and physically dying from exhaustion.)

When your child comes in and tells you that Dad says his pump is officially broken and you ask if his father changed everything out and he says no and you think you are ready to strangle someone while you are in your zombie-like coma...

Don't do it.

Well, try REALLY hard not to anyway.

I am sad to say, these are all lessons I learned the hard way within the last 10 hours. I am passing my newly discovered wisdom onto you with the hopes that you won't make the same idiotic mistakes I did.

What will I learn in the next 10 hour stretch?

If you are trying to imagine...

Don't do it.

Learn from my mistakes people. Learn. From. My. Mistakes.

Frosty meets Meri's brain.

2011-12-14T08:42:00.000-08:00

(To be sung to the tune of Frosty the Snowman. Bear with me if it is impossible to follow. You are a trooper for giving it a try!)

Meri the blogger, has a very swelly brain
It doesn't sleep at night and it lights up bright
When the boys eat candy canes.

Meri's swelly brain, is a fairy tale they say
but it sees the lows and the children know
it's going to blow up one day.

There must have been some worry in that
pile of strips she found
For when she showed it to her head
Her brain made alarming sounds.

O, Meri's swelly brain
was alive as it could be,
It could change a set and have bolus regret
just the same as you and me.

Checkity check check
Checkity check check
Look at that brain go!

Checkity check check
Checkity check check
"Give a banana for that low!"

Meri's swelly brain
Knew it couldn't continue this way
So it said "lets blog and
we'll oil those cogs
Before you're sent away."

Running to the keyboard
with meter history in her hand
She typed up her hopes and
trashed those mopes, saying
Yes, I think I can!

She wrote every worry down
and made the heartache stop.
And only paused to breathe when she
realized her brain didn't pop.

For Meri's swelly brain
comments made all the bad go away
They say she gave things a try,
now don't you cry
tomorrows another day!

Checkity check check
Checkity check check
Look at that brain go!

Checkity check check
Checkity check check
Careful, it might blow!

Total eclipse of the blood sugars.

2011-12-12T09:20:00.000-08:00

Was it the lunar eclipse? Was it diabetes mixing things up just to keep me on my toes?

Whatever it was...L had been low for three days straight with no relief in sight.

There was no visible sign of illness. There was nothing more than a normal week...and a normal kid...with his normal diet...with his normal everything.

And suddenly he can't stay above 80.

I'm not 100% sure how I am still alive this morning. L's blood sugars have given me enough heart attacks the past few days to certainly stop this whole "heart beating" thing I've got going.

No kidding, more 40's than I have seen on that monitor all year long.

Temp basals. stuffing food and juice constantly. There is no answer.

I have a few close friends that within the last couple weeks have experienced the same phenomenon with their children. So many, that I asked an adult PWD at church if she has been experiencing lows too.

(I was seriously convinced it was the moon people!)

The answer was no. All was "normal" in her neck of the woods.

But now that I think about it, L does seem taller...maybe a hair bit leaner.

Maybe he just ended a growth spurt.

Maybe he was battling some internal tummy issue.

Maybe a million things.

But today he woke up 202. And before I could stop myself, I sighed a giant sigh of relief. Seriously, you know you have been battling lows too long when a 202 makes you do a happy dance.

I'm hoping this means things will calm down today...and I'm especially hoping I don't see another 40 in, well, forever.

A dear sweet friend posted this quote on Facebook today:

"Believe in fresh starts and new beginnings. The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started."

Today, my hope and renewed energy lies in that 202. With a life as crazy as ours...sometimes hope is found in the most unlikely of places.

Yesterday, it flowed.

2011-12-08T06:27:00.000-08:00

If I had a penny for every blog post I typed through tears...

well...

I'd have a lot of pennies.

I'm learning things about myself that I don't like. It's like there are these inner issues that lurk and then jump out to consume me at the most unlikely of moments.

Yesterday was one of those moments.

L called me from school 7 times between 8:30 and 11:50. He is starting this manic thing. He checks his sugars ALL the time for reasons I still don't 100% understand. He started out high the minute he walked into the classroom and gave himself extra insulin per the wizard on his pump. He called later to tell me he felt low, numerous times in fact. At one point he was 250 panicking that he would be low any minute. Snack time was in 15 minutes so I asked him to check again then and see what the number is before we treated.

"But by then I'll be like 105!" He says.

"That will be Ok." I say.

15 minutes later more drama. He calls to say he is 570. There is NO WAY he is 570. Wash your hands and check again...during which time he put down the phone and I heard an entire conversation between the nurse, (who comes 1 morning a week,) and the teacher about L and where he puts his test strips. He was given a sharps container by the nurse to put his strips in at the beginning of the year. He is throwing all his trash in there and tried to empty it out in the class garbage can today. I guess some of those strips made it onto the floor.

I'm cringing while I am listening to this. L shouldn't be touching that container. Why the long conversation...why not ask me to take care of it??? L forgot about me...I heard many conversations about class work and the handballs.

Finally I hear a beep and Luke exclaim, "SHOCKAPRISING!"

He picked up the phone to call me and realized I was still there.

He was not 570. He was 77.

He called three times after in the next 60 minutes. He was 75, then 71 and then 63. He was BESIDE himself that he wasn't going up. I told him to drink one more juice and to meet me in the office, I was coming to get him.

When I got to the office I looked at the secretary who was smirking. "Is he driving you crazy?" I asked.

"No." She says. "He asked for us to get him a juice box just in case."

I looked over at him and he was clutching a Capri Sun.

The other secretary brought up the test strips as they were deposited in a bag and brought back to the office with the words, Hazardous Waste written in sharpie. What was she supposed to do with the bag? I think this is the point that I lost it. The secretaries called in his teacher to discuss the strips and the L's speech therapist joined in for what made for good dramatic effect.

It is kinda all a blur but I think I went on a 20 minute rant about how L shouldn't be touching the sharps container, and that he should just tell me when it needs to be emptied and "I" will take care of it.

"Should he put the container in his backpack to bring home?" His teacher asked.

"No...again...he should never pick it up. I will take care of it!"

Then the conversation about L's day began and I could feel myself lifting off. Tears welled in my eyes as I spoke about L's constant calling and his worry about every number good or bad.

I remember them saying things like, "Maybe you should call his doctor." And, "do you want to take this conversation somewhere else, the other children in here are listening." "I'm sorry, I asked L to call," and "I thought he was just being responsible."

It wasn't so much what they said but the look on their faces. I must have been pretty wild eyed. They clearly thought I was losing it.

And looking back...I was.

Trying to sort through my feelings today I had an epiphany. I am a Closet Motherbetic. L's teacher last year made such a huge deal out of every little thing that happened that now I have this paranoia that this year's teacher is constantly judging... and sighing...and saying, "not again, L," too.

Every phone call yesterday killed me, not because of the actual calling...but because it was interfering with his classroom. I thought FOR SURE his teacher was exasperated with him, and me.

Turns out she wasn't. (Well...she may be now.)

I feel awful on so many levels I can't even get there emotionally.

I feel awful that the numbers are effecting L. Either physically or mentally.

I feel bad that I automatically assumed L's teacher was frustrated with him.

I feel awful that I want his diabetes to be quiet at school. Diabetes is never quiet. I'm pretty sure that I think the more distraction diabetes is...the more it reflects poorly on me as a mother.

OK, I'm more than pretty sure.

Letting others see into our world...letting others SEE the numbers....it kills me.

I can try my best all day long and those numbers won't always reflect that. I have so much guilt that I can't make them perfect. It is like a secret shame that I carry around with me. Inside I know I can't do better than my best. Logically I KNOW that. But emotionally...if I am honest...my best isn't the best I want it to be. I want to be best-er.

I know I am doing better than I think I am. The A1C's tell me so. But when my son calls with a 400...and his teacher is there in the background...well my world comes crashing down every time.

And usually I pretend it doesn't.

Until days like today come along and all my anger...all my sadness...all my guilt...all my pain gets brought to the surface.

And I cry hard.

I try so hard to make diabetes seem like no big deal around here.

And yet it is.

It really. Really. Really. Is.

Ebbs and flows...

Yesterday, it flowed.

Reenactment: "Oh no you didn't!"

2011-12-07T07:40:00.000-08:00

Scene: Sitting on the couch in the living room waiting for my sister in law to pick up the boys. (My mother in law makes them breakfast every Wednesday and then brings them to school. Oh yeah...I'm spoiled!)

J: Squirming in the cushion, "Ow. My set hurts." (He had just changed his set 30 minutes before.)

Me: "Do you want to change it quick before Lisa gets here?"

J: Shock and Awe mode, "See...there! Right there! You would never catch a person with diabetes EVER saying that."

Me: "Saying what? Do you want to change your set?"

J: "Of course that. And of course I don't. If you had diabetes you would be embarrassed you said that."

Me: "But if it hurts..."

J: "Whoa! You don't have diabetes, you don't get it."

Me: "True. But my brain says if it is going to hurt all day, isn't it better to change it quick and have it hurt for just a second...you know, rather than all day."

J: "Mom, it only hurts when I put pressure on it, and what you are forgetting is that I'm not just a person with diabetes, I'm a 'teenager' with diabetes. Maybe when I'm an adult I will answer differently, but as a teenager I would have to say you have no idea how offensive that question is."

Me: "Because I'm asking you if you would like to poke yourself again, or because you are just too lazy to put a new set in."

J: "Both of those. Maybe you do get it."

Me: "Offensive, really? To you as a teenager, or you as a diabetic?"

J: "I'm not really sure...it's all one thing to me right now. All I can tell you is if you ask me any questions regarding extra work in my diabetes care, the answer for the next few years at least...if I have a choice...will be no, and I'm too lazy."

Me: "Are there any other offensive things I say that I should know about. You know...since I'm not a diabetic..."

J: "The only giant one I can think of right now is that one there. You say it ALL the time."

Me: "Hold the phone, I RARELY ask you if you want to change your set!"

J: "If it hurts you do, if you had diabetes you wouldn't even think to ask that."

Me: "I may not have diabetes, but I'm a sympathizer."

J: "I know. It is ok. Just know that if you ever ask me if I "WANT" to change my set...the answer to that one will always be no."

Me: "Loud and clear son...loud and clear."

So many "things"

2011-12-05T09:16:00.000-08:00

I'm surprised to say that the past few days I've gone through a bit of blogger withdrawals. I missed this place, but I know I needed a break to clear my head. It can be overwhelming to really look at your life and take stock in your feelings. It is freeing, but facing the realities of Our Diabetic Life isn't always rainbows and unicorns.

Not only that, as I look outward my heart is heavy with the burdens that you carry. Parents of children with diabetes, people with diabetes, and people that have nothing whatsoever to do with diabetes. There is a lot of heartache out there. Conflict just seems to be a way of life these days.

I think it is so important to remember that no one leads a perfect life. Everyone has their thing. Recently though, I can't help but feel like everyone has their thing...and another thing too. And even some have more than two things. I look around at my friends and I know their things. I look at the strangers that swarm around me and I know deep down in my heart that they are struggling with a thing or two, too.

SO many "things" on our plates.

The holidays have a tendency to magnify our burdens, either that or they throw our burdens on the back burner entirely. How the holidays can have two completely opposite effects is beyond me. I don't know how much control we have over the different circumstances, but I know we have some.

Many in our community try hard to look their blessings straight in the eye. Others are overwhelmed in their sphere...some are heartbroken, some are bitter, some are lost. My heart aches for each and every one. I'm not judging anyone. I have been in those dark places more than I care to admit...but I want to reach out to those who may be having a hard time right now and let them know that they won't last forever.

Good times are around the corner. Basal rates that are off, the morning spike to 400, the honeymoon, the wonky nighttime numbers, the nights with not more than an hour sleep...it isn't forever. I know, (boy do I ever know,) that when we are in the middle of despair it is hard to see that any good can be juiced out of our situation.

But if you keep working at things, and doing your best...miracles happen. And not just during Christmas.

I want to personally tell you that I have witnessed amazing miracles in my life. I have been at the bottom of the pit of despair...with a few lions in the pit with me...and I have made it out.

I did it by going one day at a time. I did it by asking for help. I did it by calling my endo. I did it by calling my family. Sometimes I did it by just putting one foot in front of another. I know that sometimes, just going through the motions is all we can do. I keep saying it over and over but I feel so strongly that we are all trying too hard to bear our burdens alone...piling them all onto our own shoulders.

The problem with that is our shoulders are human. Not superhuman.

On the flip side, asking for help is awesome, but offering help to others is even more awesome. I'm going to try to be more sympathetic to others problems. I'm really good at saying to myself, "I'm sorry you were up all night with a teething child, but try being up all night with a diabetic child who is vomiting with large ketones."

Comparing helps no one. Comparing makes me a bitter person. More than anything I want people to understand, and feel empathy for our family. I think others who have different "things" want the same as me, and maybe, just maybe, if I show them a bit more compassion...they will show a bit more to me.

Compassion is not a one way street. If you love someone, a lot of times they can't help but love you back.

There is more to life than the numbers at the end of the three second countdown.

There just has to be.

If we look hard enough, we will find our joy. And in the process we can hopefully bring others along on the joyride with us. Especially but not limited to this time of year.

Meet the Family/Contact Me

2011-12-01T12:44:00.000-08:00

If you ever want to say hello, or need a listening ear...drop me an email. I'm always around!

ourdiabeticlife@yahoo.com

Meet the family!

Me/Meri
I was born and raised in the same Northern California town that my husband and I raise the boys in today. I have 5 brothers and sisters, which lends to my fighting nature. My hubby and I married young, brilliant decision! We are more in love today than ever...(trust me...I know how lucky I am.) I've always loved to write. When I was in 3rd grade I remember my writing assignments being 20 pages long. When it comes to my feelings, I am always honest to my boys, my husband, and to you. I have very strong opinions, but I know that everyone else has them too...so I try to always be fair. My family is everything. If you are my friend, than you are part of that family too. Our Diabetic Life is my home away from home. I come here to release all the emotions I keep stored in my swelly brain. I come here to find others who "get it." Thank you for being one of those people!

Ryan
He asked me to marry him in his bedroom with Boston playing in the background. I had to say yes, right? He tells me he loves me everyday. He thinks I'm beautiful...even on my worst days. He helps, he loves, he is my best friend. He also has a paying job or something, but excels most at his really important un-paying jobs of being a husband and a father.

M
He is a teenager through and through. He is now contemplating college, and the rest of his life. He has the hugest heart, the hugest smile and the smallest amount of spite of anyone I know. He was seriously born this way. I take no responsibility for his gentle nature. He plays the saxophone, and is in some serious honors classes at school, all of which I tried to talk him out of. He rebels by taking them anyway.

J
Also a teenager, even though he is new to the fray. His voice cracks, he has the greatest dimple on his left cheek, and he is too smart for his own good. He is a ferocious reader. This guy was diagnosed at 8 months old and hasn't woken up one morning questioning why he has been given this Diabetic Life. He is now on his own for the most part on the diabetes front. I check his meter to make sure he tests, but I depend on his A1C and his pump print outs to confirm he is doing what he should. And he does. He is my hero.

B
Was born a 10 pound 4 oz., 24 inch long bundle of happiness. He loves hard, he cries hard, he plays hard. When he was diagnosed at 5 years old he had no complaints. In fact, before he was diagnosed he used to cry that he wanted diabetes too, so he could have a pump. "They glow in the dark!" he said. "Lalalalalala" I said, as I plugged my ears and begged him not to say that anymore. He is a loud and proud T1 Diabetic. He is smart, he is fun...he leans in, head first, for hugs...and he generous. I'm going to keep him.

L
L was diagnosed at 2 years old. He has been a miracle since the day we found out he was coming into this world. He says the funniest, most interesting things, and is the inventor of the word, "Shockaprising!" He is my squishy baby and I fear I will treat him as such for the rest of his life. He has just hit a big growth spurt. Make it stop. Please, make it stop!

Diane Sawyer, I'm ready for my close up!

2011-11-30T21:20:00.000-08:00

I've selfishly spent this month spouting off thoughts from my swelly brain. I have blogged every day in the name of Diabetes Awareness and I have yet to write a post that educates the masses. So here are my educating thoughts in bullet point form...just in case, one day, the world decides it wants to know the facts about Type 1 Diabetes.

* When you hear about diabetes on TV...chances are, you are hearing about Type 2 Diabetes.

* The notion of lose weight and lose diabetes is a complete hoax. Diabetes never goes away. If you have Type 2 Diabetes, You may be able to stop medication if you lose weight and change your diet...but even if you do, diabetes is still there waiting. It isn't gone. It will always be there lurking, and the fact remains that many can lose weight and still cannot go off their medication.

* When the word Diabetes gets tossed around, for some reason the first thing the world does is place blame on the person who has it. They think it is their fault. They think that they are lazy, and need to change their diet. This misconception is even thrown out there by trusted people in the media.

* You should know, Dr. Oz has no clue.

* Part of the problem is the television likes to talk about "diabetes." There is no "diabetes." There is "Type 1 Diabetes," "Type 2 Diabetes," "LADA," and "Gestational Diabetes." There may be even more types than this.

* My boys have Type 1 Diabetes. They have to fight the stereotypes and misconceptions every day...even though this disease has nothing to do with diet. It has nothing to do with lifestyle. Take everything you know about diabetes and flush it away, because 1: They can eat that. And 2: They didn't eat too much sugar to get Type 1.

* Type 1 Diabetes is an AUTOIMMUNE disease. They were born with the predisposition to get the disease and then there was a trigger that made the body attack itself. Was the trigger an illness? Was it an environmental trigger? No one knows for sure. But what the doctors DO know is there was nothing in place to prevent the process when the attack began. J was 8 months old and his weight was under 17 pounds when he was diagnosed. Not fat.

* Diabetes is all encompassing. It affects every system in the body...the complications are what type 1 and type 2 have in common. Because of this we need to keep tight control of the numbers, but that is near to impossible in ever growing boys. We take things one number at a time...but everything effects the numbers. Food, stress, exercise, weather, excitement, fat, protein, sleep patterns, illness...EVERYTHING!!!

* Diabetes never sleeps. Blood sugars fluctuate even at night. Because of this, most people with type 1 check their sugars in the wee hours of the morning. We have an alarm set for 1am every single night.

* There are no days off with diabetes.

* My boys test their blood sugars at least 8 times a day, each. That is on a good day. That is $25 dollars a day for test strips ALONE. Insulin is $100 a bottle. We use a 1 bottle every 5 days. And don't even get me started on the cost of pump supplies!

* The emotional toll of diabetes is oft not recognized. As a parent of three type 1's, the worry can be overwhelming. The cogs in my brain are constantly turning numbers around and figuring on the next step. When my boys get older they will take over the worry for themselves. As a mother, I wish I could always be their back up pancreas. I would bear their burden forever if I could.

* Insulin is not a cure. Let me say it again: INSULIN IS NOT A CURE. It is a volatile medication at best. Predictability is completely lacking. They can eat the same diet every day...exercise the same every day...keep everything constant...and everything WILL be constant, except the blood sugars. There are just too many factors to keep it all "level." Blood sugars fluctuate. It is a huge burden to bear.

* High blood sugars are uncomfortable, and scary as they lend to future complications. Low blood sugars are uncomfortable and ultra scary as they can lead to passing out, seizures, coma...death.

* My boys can't mindlessly eat. They must count carbs. They must give insulin for every morsel of carb that enters their bodies. There are very complicated ratios programmed inside their insulin pumps. Insulin pump? Their constant companion. They need insulin in their body 24 hours a day. Even a few hours without insulin can cause severe problems, even hospitalization.

* My boys can't mindlessly exercise. They must adjust their insulin, have an backpack full of emergency supplies. A blood sugar monitor. Test strips. Glucagon. Fast acting sugar...

* Did you know that apple juice is a life saving medication in our home?

I could talk for HOURS about Type 1 Diabetes. There are SO many things I want the world to know! But I'm going to let my three boys who live with diabetes end this post today.

8 year old L wants you to know this: "Changing your sets. That is the hardest thing about diabetes. It is pretty hard. You have to rip out your old set and then use a needle to put in a new set. It feels needley. You know what I mean? It just really hurts. Needles are not fun because they are dangerous...because they are sharp. And they are real."

10 year old B wants you to know this: "Diabetes is annoying. It is a lot of extra work all the time. I'm always bleeding! Shots are painful and I always have to get them. I have no choice. I want to be like normal kids. Like, it would be nice not to have to always type numbers into my pump. It would be really nice not to count carbs and always worry about my diabetes. Sometimes I really worry. The only good thing about diabetes is our dog, Lawton. We wouldn't have him if I didn't have diabetes."

14 year old J wants you to know this: "Diabetes is a mix of good things and bad things at the same time. Most of the good things are childish, like getting out of school for doctor appointments and getting good snacks when you are low. The bad things definitely outweigh the good things. If you don't monitor yourself closely you could feel sick and throw up. You have to prick your fingers every day, and every three days you have to get a big painful shot on your belly to change your pump set. Diabetes sucks for the most part. (Can I say sucks? Stinks doesn't seem strong enough.) The most annoying part is testing my sugar all the time....and to remember. If I forget to test I usually get high blood sugar and that comes with a headache, stomach ache and I get really grumpy. There is nothing really fun about diabetes."

And that my friends, ends day 30 of National Health Blogging Month. I have officially achieved my goal of blogging every day in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month. I am honored that you took time out of your day to read my blog. I plan to take the rest of the week off from blogging...but you know me...I might have to pop on earlier than planned to purge my emotions...or chronicle something hilarious. Bless you for taking the ride with me...

Here's to a cure.

I reject the reality, and substitute my own.

2011-11-29T19:29:00.000-08:00

In reality, I should be rocking in a corner with drool running down the side of my mouth.

But in my own world, It's all good.

In reality, I should be completely bald from pulling my hair out.

But in my own world, I got this covered.

In reality, my pointer finger should be running up and down my lips...you know, like crazy people do in the movies?

But in my own world, I smile at the absurdity of it all.

In reality, I should be like a broken record screaming to God, "Three? Really? THREE!!!!"

But in my own world, I thank the good Lord for my many blessings each and every day.

In reality, I should have a therapist at my disposal 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...including and especially holidays.

But in my own world, all the therapy I need is drinking hot chocolate with friends who I know, "get it."

In reality, I should be a shut in. My boys should never leave the house and I should have a giant magnifying glass on them every minute of every day.

But in my own world, we live.

In reality, the technology that is there is not enough. I want more. I want a cure.

But in my own world, I'm thankful for every little thing we have to fight this disease. Including but not limited to, insulin, test strips, pumps, cgm's, ketone strips, 3 second countdowns and apple juice.

In reality, my heart should not be beating. The heartache should have shut it down long ago.

But in my own world, my heart swells with love for my children, my husband, my family and each of you who are the "same," who feel the "same."

In reality, there should be a bruise front and center on my forehead, marking the spot where I bang my head all the live long day trying to figure out basals and ratios.

But in my own world, I know...somewhere deep down...that I can do this.

The problems come only when the lines between the reality and my own world fade. Navigating the fog back to my own world can be a neat trick sometimes...but I always get there.

I like my world better than the real one.

Because in reality, I am the mother to four boys, three who have type one diabetes.

And in my own world...the three may have diabetes, but diabetes doesn't have them.

(Day 29 of National Health Blog Post Month is complete. Ya know I'm doing in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month. Tomorrow is the last day! Woo to the Hoo!)

Today's random Meri musings.

2011-11-28T21:47:00.000-08:00

I laid out clothes for B and L today. They put on each other's outfits and they both fit. Sure B's jeans were just a tad short, and L's needed to be rolled up three times...but it was all good. (Of course I didn't realize the snafu until they were walking into school.)

Snack time sugars were pretty rockin'. I'll take that victory thankyouverymuch!

L called after his snack recess and said he was 123 but his body was telling him he was going to be low soon. Me, being the philosophical mother that I am, told him to have a little juice because he should always listen to his body. An hour and a half later he called in at 213. I don't want to say anything, but his body was totally playing him...

I need to clean out my purse. I'm considering having a Christmas Contest...whoever can guess the correct amount of stray strips in my purse wins. Stay tuned for that one.

In my book, Christmas lights equal happiness.

Hiding a pickle ornament on a tree and having your children compete to see who can find it first brings all kinds of joy.

There is a chance my boys may be a little too competitive. For the life of me, I have no idea where they get that from. (Though, I did kick butt at the family charades game the other night! BOO YEAH!)

Charlie Brown is a big deal around here, especially since Charles Shultz lived just down the road. I'm just going to come out and say it...Charlie Brown specials are boring. (I totally deserve the hate mail on this one, but the truth sets me free!)

I'm pretty much going to flip my lid the next time I am asked, "how many carbs?" when there is no plate in front of me to count. Seriously, the boys make their plates and then come into the OTHER room and ask me how many carbs without me having eyes on any portion sizes whatsoever. Yeah, I'm a good swagger, but I'm not magic people.

There is a funny story about the word 'barth,' but according to one of my boys, I'm not allowed to share.

Another two field trip forms came home today. I'm not kidding.

We are trying to wrap up our Christmas shopping. For L, our motto is quantity over quality. We learned our lesson from last year.

Two words: Christmas!!! Cookies!!!

A little something I've learned this week: Teenagers blame you for everything. Even homework. I can't get over how unfair it is. It's not like I'm CALLING their teachers and recommending assignments for crying out loud!

The drawer that houses my boys toothbrushes looks like a nuclear toothpaste bomb went off inside.

Because he is the baby of the family L needs to be prepared for more squishes, more kisses and hugs galore. It is out of my control. This mama needs to soak in all the love while she can, period.

My oldest is doing a project that is having him investigate different colleges and majors. I'm just pretending it isn't happening. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Bedtime numbers are being reported right this minute. B: 124 L: 101 (temp basal set for zero for a half hour.) J: 221. (Pretty sure he needs some basal changes, AGAIN. :P~~~~ to puberty!)

Songs that were in my head today: I've Got the Moves Like Jagger, and Dancing on the Ceiling. Random words floating around my head today: 'Xioa Dre'...from Karate kid/Kung Fu Kid. I can't make this stuff up!

And that is that!

Goodnight friends! Day 28 of 30 of National Health Blogging Month complete!

Let's make a deal...diabetes style.

2011-11-27T19:54:00.000-08:00

Welcome Meri to Let's Make a Deal! WOOO HOOO!

Clap!!! Clap!!! Clap!!! Clap!!! Clap!!!

Tomorrow the boys start school again. As the audience well knows...all three of your boys have had higher blood sugar numbers during their break. Tomorrow they will be back on the playground and I know you are lost about what to do.

So let's do what you do best...GUESS!

Let's make a deal!

Clap!!! Clap!!! Clap!!! Clap!!! Clap!!!
To start out, you have three boxes in front of you.

Box #1 has you continuing to up their basals because of the highs as of late.

Box #2 has you Going back to the ratios you used before Thanksgiving break.

Box #3 has a temp basal inside. Up the basals just a touch in the morning.

It is time to make your choice Meri! Which will you choose?

Me: "Do I have to choose right this minute?"

Without a doubt, yes you do! School is just a short 12 hours away!! Come on Meri! You can do this! EVVVVVERYONE is waiting for you to make your choice!

Me: "I don't know what to do. Can I crawl into a hole and make my husband decide?"

It's all on you Meri, you know that! The clock is ticking...your time is almost up. Don't think about them passing out on the playground. Don't think about them spending the day at in the bathroom or at the water fountain. JUST CHOOSE!!
Me: Since I'm given no mercy to put it off...I'm picking box #2. Better safe than sorry.

Finally a choice! Tomorrow your prize will be made known unto you. There are three curtains with three carefully chosen prizes hiding behind.

One curtain hides a perfectly pleasant day with no big blood sugar surprises.

Curtain number two holds frantic phone calls, ALL. DAY. LONG.

And the third curtain brings constant troubleshooting for the entire day/week.

You will be notified of which curtain you win by 10:15am tomorrow!

Thank you so much for playing Meri! Best of luck to you!

You are gonna need it...

Me: And here I thought games were supposed to be fun...

(This concludes day number 27 of National Health Blogging Month. Three more days. You are all saints for putting up with me. For serious.)

Day 4658

2011-11-26T22:42:00.000-08:00

The battle is making me weary.

My armor is dented.

My weapons dull from constant wear.

My will is nothing to be depended on.

One minute I'm running into the fray, our battle cry screaming from my tonsils.

The next minute I'm curled up in a ball hoping no one notices me.

I'm going through the motions...dripping with emotional defeat, but not giving up to the numbers.

I beat every one of them. One number at a time. But I can't help but wish that the numbers would be whisked away...flushed...cured.

For now and for always they continue to swirl around my brain. The parade of numbers marching ever forward.

They are constant. No break. Ever.

Emotional roller coaster much?

But as I do the night check and see those sleeping faces...consumed in peace. It is fuel for my soul.

Those faces keep me sane. They make the battlefield seem like only a bad dream.

It is their laughter that frees my guilt.

I will keep moving forward. I will keep blogging my way through the emotions of it all.

I'll zig and zag my way through the number minefield and I'll find safety in our ratios.

I can do this. With my boys by my side...I CAN and will do this.

Self affirming pep talks help. Writing it out makes sense of it all.

This my friends is what you get after the 10:00pm check with three boys who are low.

Sometimes I just need to talk my way out of the tears.

This will wrap up day 4658 or our diabetic life...and day 26 of National Health Blog Posting Month.

Getting into the Christmas Spirit.

2011-11-25T20:30:00.000-08:00

‘Twas the night before set changes and all through the home
Every boy slept quite soundly, nary a moan.

The monitors sat on the counter with care,
Anticipating a parent soon would be there.

The children’s fingers were hiding warm under their cheeks
Safely hidden from needles, a welcome retreat.

And I in my robe, and Ryan in his shorts
Had just settled down, for a napper of sorts.

When out in the hall their arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the door I flew like a flash,
My feet not touching the ground, a hasty worried filled dash.

When what to my blurry sleep deprived eyes should appear,
But one little boy staring at himself in the mirror.

His eyes all glazed over, his face no emotion to show
I knew at that moment my son must be low.

More rapid than reindeer I flew to the kits
Stepping over Legos, being careful not to trip.

Now Lancet, now monitor, now wet napkin too
On cocking the lancet, we have blood drawing to do!

To a finger so callused and speckled with dots
Now dash away, dash away, dash away sad thoughts!

As I checked his blood sugar to make sure all was well
I saw a number that made me swoon and I fell.

And then in a twinkling I saw above me,
My husband holding a juice box, to fix that 43.

He was dressed in his underwear, not a sock on his foot
And his hair was all tousled…he gave me a look.

His eyes bright with love and a crooked smile to match
He looked like a peddler, a cute one at that.

The lines around his eyes so wrinkly and tired
But his face shown of kindness and a hope unretired.

He helped me off the floor and he gave our son juice
I knew in a flash, he got his much needed boost.

I turned to our boy who began to giggle with glee
His pump shook up and down from his tummy clippy.

He was out of it; his jolliness seemed out of place
But I chuckled despite that blank look on his face.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word but went straight back to sleep
His fingers under his pillow, shoved down there deep.

And giving him a kiss just the side of his nose
I went back to my room, cursing the lows.

I set my alarm and gave my husband a squeeze
I whispered to angels, “A little sleep help please?”

But I heard a faint echo ‘ere I closed my eyes tight
“Love you mom and dad…see you later tonight.”

(I must admit I was out in the wee hours of the morning with my husband getting some shopping done. My creativity is a bit hazy right now, so I had to lean on a more clear headed me. Last year I wrote this poem a couple weeks before Christmas...since we are putting up the tree tomorrow, I thought it would be a good one to re post. Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday with their families! Day 25 of National Health Blog Posting Month is officially complete!)

Not easy, but so worth it.

2011-11-24T10:25:00.000-08:00

Today I am Thankful that life isn't easy.

The struggles and challenges our family has faced lo these past 18 years have only made us more appreciative of the simple pleasures life grants us.

We have been thrown a few curveballs for sure, but instead of curling up in a ball and giving up, we drew together as a family and clung to our love, our faith and our blessings.

I look at my handsome husband and my four beautiful boys and am overcome with emotion. I am so blessed that they are ALIVE. That my children are not only surviving with diabetes, but thriving with diabetes. My husband not only survived the odds against cancer, he slayed them. We have rough days, heck yesterday is a perfect example of that...but if you move past those days and look at the big picture, we lead a blessed life in so many ways.

I make a lot of mistakes. I am far far far from perfect. But I have learned a hard lesson that has helped me more than anything in life...and that is I can't do this all on my own.

We can't bear the burden of this alone.

Turn to your spouse.

Turn to your family.

Turn to your friends.

Turn to the Diabetes Online Community.

Turn your sights upwards. If you feel like you are alone in all of this...you are not.

I know it with all my heart.

There is a purpose to this. Find it. Although it is hard to see when the sadness and helplessness cloud our view...the purpose is there.

And today I see that all of these challenges in my life...all the worry...all the constant constant worry...has helped me to appreciate the things that are right in front of me.

It took me awhile to learn to be happy with what I have. This might be as good as it gets, it is a waste to wait for something better.

And if this is as good as it gets, I realize that I have been blessed beyond anything I am deserved. Other than a cure, I can't imagine a more blessed life.

My husband, my boys and my family...they are all that I need. They are home. And today I want to recognize that regardless of the walls that diabetes puts up...we will go forward. We will find a way to climb over these walls...dig under these walls...go around these walls...and if need be, plow right through them.

We can do this. Making it this far has shown me that is true.

One day at a time, friends.

One blessing at a time.

Happy Thanksgiving to every one of you. Each of you are a blessing as you have lifted my burden. I'm not alone in Our Diabetic Life...how blessed am I to know this?

(This is me officially wrapping up day 24 of National Health Blogging Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

No insulin is no fun.

2011-11-23T12:39:00.000-08:00

It can all go so wrong so quickly.

B has been higher since school let out. Is it the different activity level? Should we be switching to his weekend ratios all week? I was so sick of it that I upped his basal for most of the day yesterday and he was still running "higher." 200's. Nothing alarming or anything.

He went to bed in the 200's and shockerprisingly enough...he was 220 when I tested him at 1am.

I corrected and went back to bed.

It was almost 4:00am when he woke me and told me he was throwing up. ("Don't worry" he says, "I didn't throw up on my bed...I can still sleep there. I made it to the carpet.") His blood sugar was 390 and his blood ketones 3.8. His set had been ripped off and was in one sorry state. The cannula was bent in half and the sticker was just a big ball.

We did a quick set change, gave a good sized bolus and went back to bed. For the hour before he threw up again I didn't sleep. All I could think about was that cannula.

Why can't the genius engineers of the world find a way to let us know the cannula is bent? I mean, isn't that important? Our children getting no insulin even for a little bit of time is dangerous. "No Delivery" is no help at all...most of our bent cannulas are found after a lot of research and problem solving beforehand. They will be high for hours before we yank out the set and discover that little culprit.

Maybe I'm asking for the world...but there has to be a way to alert us to a bent cannula. I have a friend that uses the metal ones, and they still have problems. Those metal ones can bend in half too. (Seriously, ouch!)

Watching your child retch in front of the toilet and turn his head to tell you that HE is sorry between hurls is heart breaking to say the least. "Why are you saying sorry honey? I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault mom...I must have pulled it out when I was sleeping."

Heart. Rips. Out. Of. My. Chest.

I am not talented enough to convey my anger at this disease today. I sit here having my silent temper tantrum so the boys do not see. I have seen them suffer through an improportionate amount of ketone inducing "problems" the past few months. Am I getting soft? Am I letting them down?

I feel like I am.

I was getting a pedi with a friend, (my very first one, thankyouverymuch!) and she pointed out that I am always feeling guilty about something. Truer words have never been spoken.

I have a lot of responsibility and I don't feel like I can put 100% into any one thing. I think that is common with parents with diabetes, or any other disease or disorder for that matter. Seeing your child suffer and knowing that maybe, if you were more diligent their suffering would never have happened, or perhaps could have been lessened? Well, that is enough to put my swelly brain into a tailspin. Seriously...it is on the ground right now banging its hands on the carpet...with its legs flailing like a 2 year old.

I am thankful that most days this disease has nothing on us. But the some days that it takes over and changes the trajectory of our happiness...well on those days I'm typing through tears.

Luckily, tomorrow is a new day...Thanksgiving Day for that matter. This incident will seem far removed, and I'll be able to concentrate on the things that matter most in life...

My blessings.

Thankfully, there are many.

(This is day 23 of National Health Blog Posting Month, where I am posting every day in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

A common thread

2011-11-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

A small reenactment of a conversation that happens between L and I over the phone more often than you would guess:

"Hi L! What's your sugar?"

"I'm going to say it in Spanish, ok?"

"Ok, if you absolutely have to."

"Yup! I do! Dos... Unnnnnnnno... ummm... siet.... no.... seisss... no.... serte.... no...."

"L, please just say it in English."

"No I got it! Dooooooooos...un....uno....siete!"

"217?"

"NO! 206!"

Another small reenactment of L telling me his blood sugar number before he goes to bed:

"L, what is your sugar baby?"

"I'm going to show you how many with my fingers, ok?"

"Ok, if you absolutely have to."

"Yup! I do!"

Then he proceeds to put up one finger, wave it around and turn it into three fingers, wave it around and turn it into nine fingers...wait, now it is eight...wait...he is changing his mind...some fingers are halfway up...I don't know what he is doing. My brain is swelling!

"138?"

"Nope! Let me do it again!"

And he won't give up the answer...I have to guess correctly, that is the fun for him.

My last reenactment below takes place mostly in the early mornings:

"Good morning my love! What is your blood sugar?"

"I'm going to spell it out in the air, ok?"

"Ok, if you absolutely have to."

(You know he does.)

This is the hardest to identify. His hand swirls around the air in grand gestures and I must guess the numbers he is writing with his finger. Early in the morning my brain isn't awake enough to take all the random information in and make something of it, so I make him go one number at a time and guess from there. He usually has to give the number up to me, but not until I guess a good ten times.

I posted the last scenario on facebook yesterday and was shockerprised by the response. It seems that these things are universal to children who have diabetes. Children are seriously playing these exact same games with their parents around the world!

Why do they do it? Are they trying to make the most fun out of the least fun thing they have to do during the day? Are they trying to punish us for constantly asking, "What is your sugar?" Nah! It isn't revenge, right? I think it is all harmless. I try to wake up before the boys to check their sugars in the morning...just so I don't HAVE to ask them that question first thing...but L makes it a point to get up before I do and check his own sugar...just so he can play the game.

As much as these games swell up my brain...I always leave shaking my head with the biggest smile on my face. It is absurdly hilarious and brings L so much joy, how can I not play along?

In fact, as you are reading this there is probably a mother in Mexico asking her child what his blood sugar number is, and he is responding at this very moment, "Mama, voy a decliro en Ingles!"

It's a small world indeed!

(This is me wrapping up day 22 for National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

Every Birthday a Blessing.

2011-11-21T08:50:00.000-08:00

He still has scars on his inner ankles from when he was diagnosed at 8 months old, in fact he showed them to me yesterday. He was so dehydrated, the doctors had to cut there to find a vein. It is a memory etched in my brain for the eternities...and today I sit here feeling blessed beyond measure that he is here with us 14 birthdays later.

Last year I was very conflicted about J turning 13. I wasn't ready for another teen in the house, and I certainly didn't think I was ready to see J be catapulted into adulthood.

I'm glad to report that today J is 14 and we have both survived the first of his teenage years. He has changed so much, but I can't say it is for the worse. He is finally growing and has slimmed out again. His voice is in the constant state of cracking and he has a really quiet/hilarious sense of humor. His facial expressions are what he is all about these days and I find myself studying him so I don't miss them.

And he talks! I don't think I've heard J talk this much in the past 3 years combined.

He has found a balance between his responsibleness and his laziness. He is a teen for sure, but in a good way.

There have been instances when he missed an assignment. There have been instances where he missed a blood sugar check. Neither were blown off by me, because each are important and are not negotiable. Still, he has all A's and B's and a rockin A1C, all that were achieved mostly by his own efforts and not mine.

He is independent and has been making good choices.

What else can a proud mother ask for?

We have arrived. For the past few years you all have seen me freak out about J taking on independence in his diabetes. He is there. I have no idea what he bolused for dinner last night, but when I checked him at 1 am and saw a 129, I was impressed. L and B's weren't that good and I was responsible for their dinner carb counting. Who knows what the future holds, but for right now all is well!

For those of you that have tweens, or teens and are struggling, (which don't get me wrong from this post...we have struggled!) Below I have attached a link that has helped me more than anything put all this independence in perspective. I've found myself sharing it a handful of times in the last couple weeks, and I know that ALL of you...even those of you with littles, will benefit from this.

So click and enjoy! It is so worth sticking it through to the end!

And Happy Birthday J! Every birthday is a blessing. YOU are a blessing! We love you!

The link is HERE. Or you can copy and paste the below URL into your browser.

http://www.childrenwithdiabetes.com/video/JoeS2.htm

(This will wrap up day 21 of National Health Blogging Month, in which I am participating in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

100,000

2011-11-20T20:28:00.000-08:00

I've been keeping track of how many people click on my blog for a little over two years now. Today I reached the milestone of 100,000 visitors.

To quote a post from earlier this year:

I like to think of my blog as my ark.

I was drowning, so one day I took my thoughts and built my ark/blog.

I filled the ark with my fears, my hopes, my belly laughs and musings from my swelly brain and let it sail!

It traveled father than I ever imagined, and has taken me to places I never knew existed.

The best place of all is the Diabetes Online Community. When I started this blog, I didn't even know the DOC existed. It was a happy coincidence my sister in law found another parent blogger and pointed me in her direction. Discovering Shamae's blog list was akin to finding the new world for me. I had found solid ground. I wasn't alone in the ark with my thoughts, like Noah's dove, I was able to set them free...and in turn, I could set myself free as well.

I want to take a minute to thank each and every one of you for taking the time to click on my link and see what I have to say. You have been my biggest support. Your being here means the world to me and has made all the difference in Our Diabetic Life. There is such power in knowing we are not alone, I had no idea of this when I started this journey. It is a comfort to me knowing that there are others like me out there saying, "same."

YOU make a difference in my life. Thank you. Thank you SO MUCH for that.

(This is day 20 of National Health Blogging Month where I am posting every single darn day for Diabetes Awareness Month. 10 days to go. Thank you for taking the ride with me!)

Oh yeah...he can eat that!

2011-11-19T21:32:00.000-08:00

What do you do when your little boy's dream is to have a pie eating contest at his tenth birthday party? Your little boy who has been obsessed with the word "pie" since he was four years old... Your little boy who's announced his favorite food is pie since he could form an answer... Your little boy who has Type 1 Diabetes and for one moment wants to be like any other normal kid out there...

What does one do?

Well, one boluses this boy 120 carbs and lets him have at it.

Best. Party. Ever.

Let them eat cake!...errrr...pie!

(This is me coming in right under the wire with my post for National Health Blogging Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month. I didn't post the pic of the other boys present as I don't have their parents permission...but take it from me, adorable! And in case you are wondering, he blew the other boys out of the water. B won by a landslide!)

Choices.

2011-11-18T08:08:00.000-08:00

They are our god given right. We all have the opportunity to make thousands of our own choices every day. Are they all choices of good and evil? No. In fact most of the choices we make are not black or white...they are no color at all. Choices can be as simple as what we are going to eat for breakfast or what toothpaste we are going to buy.

Some of the choices we make are more important. One example might be looking both ways when we cross the street, another might be wearing our seat belt.

As a mother of 3 children with diabetes, I make hundreds of choices for my boys on a daily basis. I know what the healthy/smarter decisions are. I tell them what snacks to eat...I tell them if they can or they can't. I tell them how many carbs to give. I'm REALLY good at making choices for them. So good that I'm afraid I'm not letting them feel the power of making good choices for themselves.

I had the opportunity tonight to listen to a few amazing woman, and during the conference this epiphany came very clearly:

My greatest job isn't to make all the choices for my boys. My greatest job is teaching them that making good choices will bring them good health and happiness now, and down the road. It is my job to teach them how to do that.

Instead of me telling them what healthy snack to eat after school, I should let them choose, and then talk to them about it. Explain the glycemic index. Explain why one snack would be better than the other. They are old enough now that I should be guiding them...not controlling or smothering them. They need their mother to give them enough room to make mistakes. Because we learn from our mistakes.

I need to be strong enough to watch them make choices that I wouldn't. I need to be brave enough to let them fly. It is so easy for me to say, "Don't look over there! Those choices will hurt you! You only have ONE good choice and it is here...the others aren't even an option!"

But in the real world it doesn't work that way, and my shielding them from things isn't the best training for the rest of their life.

All I can do is talk to them...be brutally honest with them...teach them...and trust them that they will make choices that will end up being responsible ones.

Good choices:

Like bolusing before they eat.

Like putting strips into their backpack before school.

Like picking the right snack for a 50, a 60 or a 70.

Like eating one cupcake and not two.

Like listening to the alarms on their pumps.

Like rechecking their sugars 15 minutes after treating a low, to make sure all is well.

I can do all of this FOR them...but it is better to guide them. To encourage them. To find ways to help them remember, and help them understand that I'm not going to be there to make these choices for them forever.

My first instinct is to protect them and keep them safe. That is my job for sure. But I need to start giving them more power in their choices.

Because once they start making good choices on their own, I'll be more inclined to reward them with things like freedom...

And isn't that every child's ultimate goal? Freedom to go to their friends without mom calling every 10 minutes. Freedom to go on a field trip without mom sitting next to them the whole time. Freedom to...I don't know...leave for college????

If I make all the choices for them then they will not learn anything. I'm going to do it all in baby steps, in things related to diabetes and things that are not. Somehow I got J to be independent in his diabetes...so I know I CAN let them take over.

Sometimes though...for me, it really needs to be a conscious decision.

And right now I'm choosing to let them choose more often. (Not completely though...I'm not mental!)

(This wraps up day 18 in a fancy bow. I'm blogging every day this month for National Health Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month. Bless you for putting up with me!)

My October is a bully.

2011-11-17T09:45:00.000-08:00

To my long time readers it is no secret that October is my least "favoritest" month.

Yes, Halloween has something to do with it. But mostly it is everything that is tagged along with it. It is the constant parties, costume changes, treats, trips and the bags and bags of candy.

Last year I had enough and told the boys, no parties. Only Halloween...and no kidding, it was the best year ever!

(For me anyway.)

This year I let them pick one extra party, and that was the school party. It didn't brighten my month or anything...there was a bake sale and a cinnamon pancake breakfast. But they had fun and that is what matters.

If it was just these two parties that made up the complications of October than I would be sitting pretty. But it's so much more involved than that. It is the accumulation of everything chaotic...too many straws on the camel's back...it only takes one of those straws to make everything fall apart.

The older boys have report cards come in the mail the first Friday in October, and then the next grading period ends the last Friday in October. There is a lot of pressure to get them into the swing of their new year.

B and L had EIGHT field trips in the month of October, plus an additional three walking field trips to the high school track. This isn't normal, right?

Never mind that October seems to be the boys preferred month to have a growth spurt. I changed basals on each and every boy at least twice in October.

And then there is the normal everyday stuff, like the 750 times the boys sugars were checked. 750! That isn't a made up number! 8 times a day, times 31 days, times 3 is 748. And there was the day B had ketones, so yeah...OVER 750.

And the 30 set changes is something to be noted as well.

Why does October get to me? It is because I already live a life that is demanding on my psyche. Adding things to the list, piling on responsibilities, things to remember and WORRIES on my swelly brain makes my cogs overheat.

8 field trips. Are you hearing the words that are coming out of my screen? One time L and B had field trips on the same day and I had to let B go to Safari West without me. There is no cell signal at Safari West by the way. So I spent the day in silent freak out mode. I don't have good hair days when I'm in silent freak out mode. My lower back hurts when I am in silent freak out mode. I am not a fan of silent freak out mode...but yet October seemed to be littered with these episodes.

If you are not my friend on facebook than you wouldn't know about J's run in with an electric hedge clipper. He was lucky that he didn't lose his finger. It was grizzly to say the least. There wasn't enough skin to sew up so they left it all meaty for the skin to grow back. It has been a month and I can only now look at it without feeling woozy. TMI? Hey, if you want to understand what it was about October...you gots to hears it all friends!

Sure, it wasn't all bad. There were a lot of family dinners, L learned how to ride a bike...which was a total epic experience on its own...we went on a record number of family walks and the weather was so sublime the heater was never turned on.

Just a lot of the same ol same ol too...

Chaos.

Which is just fine. But there is something about October that makes me really dislike...well, October. I get blue in October...I get completely overwhelmed...and I don't like feeling that way.

I'm not looking for, "Poor Meri." Although at the surface it may seem this way. I'm just trying to wrap my head around why October and I must participate in this sparing match each and every year.

I mean, November and I get along great. And December and I are seriously BFF's.

Maybe I do it to myself.

Maybe.

But I have a feeling October doesn't like me either. It almost feels like on November 1st, October yelled at me, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!" It spends its 31 days trying to trip me up as often as it can, and I'm pretty sure there is some name calling in there because I always feel bad about myself during that time of year.

I guess I just need to come to terms with the fact that October and I will never get along...which would be easier to do if I didn't want it to like me so much.

My October is kinda' a bully...but I hear other people have very nice Octobers. So maybe it is all just the luck of the draw.

(This marks day 17 of my participation in National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

L-M-N-O PEE...

2011-11-16T10:00:00.000-08:00

It's something none of us want to talk about. It is the one post I probably will get the most flack about when the boys are older, but darn it! It needs to get out in the open! We must unite in our secret shame...

Pee.

And diabetes.

Man, back in the day when my boys were littler and high over night...forget about it!! Accidents galore.

And let's not get into the nights when it happened twice. I've found them curled up in the corner of their bed the size of a quarter to keep away from the wet spots.

And then there is the bathroom.

I have four boys. Seriously, sometimes I think there is a fountain of pee that springs up next to the toilet at night. Yesterday I honestly walked by the bathroom door and gagged a little.

Almost every day. I have to clean it almost every day.

Now...let me be clear. I've never BLAMED the boys.

When they have to go at night, I'd rather they make it to the bathroom blurry eyed and in a sleep trance than not make the trip at all and stay where they sleep. I know they are out of it. I know they are trying. I know it is hard to aim when you are sleep walking.

But honestly...it has been a big part of my life that I need to get out there.

PEE!

There! I said it!

I don't want to embarrass my boys...ok, maybe too late for that...but it took them a couple years after the initial potty training to keep them dry at night too.

Why?

Because they are boys?

Because they have diabetes!!!?

Because the sleep harder than normal people?

Because. They. Have. Diabetes!!!

I can't say 100% for sure...but I can tell you what a relief it was when my youngest announced a couple years ago, "I'm done with these nighttime things. I can do it!"

And he was done.

And he did...for the most part.

I just want you to know if you are knee deep in laundry...you are not alone.

Children with diabetes pee more. It is a scientific fact. It is not their fault...also a scientific fact.

And yup¸ we've always restricted drinks after 7, and had them "go" before bed and at the 10pm check.

It is what it is.

As they get older the incidents are fewer and far between. My T1 teen doesn't have accidents ever, in fact it seems like years and years since he has. (PHEW! I saved one kid from holding this over my head forever.) It is true though. So I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel for all of us.

It just feels like a really long tunnel, you know?

Like one of those Subway tunnels...that smells like urine.

Ok. I'm done.

(This so "eloquently" ends day 16 of National Health Blog Posting Month, where I am blogging everyday in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

The life cycle of a test strip.

2011-11-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

I've been observing closely the life of a test strip for many years now. They lead a fascinating existence...inspiring in fact...and as such, I hope you will see their valor in my findings today.

They are born into groups of 25 and live in the dark for months before their true life begins. It is a drastic change from the quiet of their family as one day they are ripped from their cocoon and thrust into a world of people and noise and emotion.

They watch their brothers and sisters be taken one by one to be eaten by the monitor and they gasp at what they think is their bloody end.

Alas, for many it IS their end. Test strips are only good to us humans ONE TIME. After we apply the blood and read the number proceeding the countdown, they are completely useless to us. They are thrown into the garbage and they will sadly live the remainder of their days at the dump.

But for a resourceful some...this is not the case.

Some of these strips have a will to live that is stronger than the forces of human nature. They find ways to survive and as a result they can be found in the most outlandish of places.

Some dive to the floor where they hope they will be ignored, and eventually be able to quietly escape.

Some find their way into pockets...which in turn find their way into the washing machine. They clog up the washer filter and congregate with other family members hoping never to be discovered. But, a little water on the laundry room floor alerts the humans to their presence and they are most certainly found out and thrown away to their garbagy grave.

Some find their way to the car. They can live happily there for months until they are vacuumed up. Ironically they are happy to be with their own kind within the vacuum canister...until...like the rest, they are eventually thrown away.

Some live for years in the corner of a closet, or the bottom of a dresser, or underneath a bed. I'm still studying how they get there...but there is some kind of instinct they have to find a dark, quiet place to hide. They are rarely found alone, so my research suggests that they prefer to hide in packs.

The most popular colony by far in our house is the one that lives in my purse. They live contently there with hundreds of their sisters and brethren. They thrive in the deep dark recesses of my purse pockets. Between you and me, I believe they populate there too. Unfortunately, their offspring are 'used' test strips too, and as such, are no use to me.

And then there are the heroes. The few that go where no strip has gone before. Once, one was found in my hair. Another one was seen swimming in the toilet, and another two somehow made it to the gutter by the mailbox. A brave few have found the courage to base jump out of my car into the parking lot, and an especially bold one was found inside my bra in the summer of '99.

It isn't an easy life for a test strip, but those suckers are resourceful. They can be truly annoying at times, but you have to give them props for their ingenuity.

Unfortunately though, no matter how smart or resourceful they are...they ALL end up in the garbage eventually.

It is a sad life, but one I would like to honor today.

I would like to thank each and every test strip that gave up their quiet life in the vile so that my sons may live. There must have been over 100,000 so far, and their sacrifices are appreciated more than they will ever know. So to pay homage to their short life spans, I will put off cleaning out my purse another week...and maybe wait until Saturday to vacuum out the car.

It is the only human thing to do.

Rock on test strips. Rock on.

(This is day 15 of my 30 days straight of blogging for National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

Sometimes...

2011-11-14T21:24:00.000-08:00

Sometimes at night, when the alarm goes off…I have a mini fit. I thrash my legs and moan like an 8 year old tasked to do the stupidest of chores. I am overcome with exhaustion. I roll out of bed walking back-bent-arms-hanging, channeling all my anger to the Legos on the floor, wondering when, if ever, I will get a good night’s sleep. Once I get to the boys though, my heart usually softens. Their sweet faces calm my shaking hands and my selfishness turns to concern as I check each boy and assess their situation. But when I get back to my bed, I fall in like a dead body; face first…KERPLAT…on to my pillow. Wondering if I’ll be able to fall back to sleep, angry at the exhaustion that has taken over my body. Sometimes.

But most of the time, I just hop out of bed and check. No biggie. I’m not angry, or tired, or anything. I do the deed and go back to bed. Most of the time it is just a simple correction or a little banana or pudding to get things back to where they need to be. I climb back into bed and fall asleep before my head hits the pillow. Done and done.

Sometimes I question myself. I’ll give the boys breakfast insulin and send them to school wondering if they will be ok today. Because sometimes I don’t do what the pump tells me to do. Sometimes I go rogue. I know that J has track, so I’ll scale back his insulin. I know that B has called me the last few days with higher numbers, so I give him a bit extra. I know that L has needed an extra snack for a week, so I give him less insulin. So I’m guessing. And sometimes when I guess…my entire body fills with worry sand, and I feel like I am 200 pounds heavier. On these days I feel clumsier in both mind and body, and I can’t think straight. And I pretend that I’m not worrying…I tell myself over and over and over that they will be ok. Sometimes.

But most of the time, I give insulin and I don’t worry. We have done this everyday for forever, and everything will be ok. And if it is not ok, then there was nothing more I could do. Most of the time I am at peace with my decisions. I know that my guesses are educated guesses. I live and breathe diabetes. I am not perfect…but I am capable. Most of the time. Done and done.

Sometimes, I’ll look at a pile of bloody test strips on the dresser, (aftermath from a long night,) and I get sick to my stomach. It is the grizzly reality of our life. Sometimes, there can be 20 test strips lying on the boy’s dresser from the evening before and a couple checks through the night. I pick each one up to throw in the garbage. It hurts my heart as some of them stick to the dresser. Tears come as I wonder if this will always be our reality. Wondering if there will ever be a cure. The image throws me…and validates all my anger towards this disease. I think of their callused fingers and I want to roar like a mother lion that is protecting her young. Sometimes.

But most of the time, I’ll clean up the strips and disinfect the area like I always do and it is the most normal of things. It is not big deal. Test strips are nothing new. Heck…they are EVERYWHERE. Normally the strips go straight to the garbage or in a cup I keep next to their supplies. I am thankful for being able to test. This instrument is fairly new in this world. How blessed am I to know what to do at any time of day just with a poke of the finger? I thank the Lord for that monitor. Most of the time. Done and done.

Sometimes I let my brain go to that dark place. The place where the seriousness of this disease is magnified and made uber clear to every one of my mommy senses. Sometimes, like this week, I hear the stories of children dying in their sleep from Diabetes and I have what I call, “a silent freak out.” I don’t talk about it. I pretend I am not worrying about it. But it is there in my mind. So when something else comes up that is frustrating, I lose it. I lose it over the littlest of things. Not because of the little thing, but because of this secret worry that has burrowed like a mole deep into my head and is planning to hibernate there for the winter. There is this background worry that affects every aspect of my life. It defines me, it puts me on edge. And at these times, I hate diabetes. Sometimes.

But most of the time, I am grateful. I see the blessings right in front of me. They are vibrant, smart, and amazing. They can do anything. Nothing can stop them from achieving their dreams…not even diabetes. I am grateful that they are alive…that they don’t live their lives in a hospital. That diabetes has made them stronger, more empathetic people. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. We are a close, united family partly to do with diabetes. We are blessed daily with technology that makes this disease manageable. We are a family that loves each other, and when it all comes down to it…isn’t that all that is important?

Yes, sometimes I am an emotional wreck. Thankfully, most of the time…I am Ok. That is why I am the Jekyll and Hyde of the blogging world. One minute I am preaching how manageable diabetes is, and that it gets easier, and that newly diagnosed families will adjust to the craziness of it all…and the next minute I am heartbroken…scared and unsure of myself.

I had a friend tell me once that I need therapy. That may be so. But I think for now, I won’t take that path simply because “most of the time” I’m still Ok. And the “sometimes” that I am not…well…those times don’t last long. Those sometimes moments are the reality of what this disease dishes out. Diabetes isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I accept that. And I always know that that through the rain clouds the sun is always there. We just need to be patient…the sun will make itself known eventually. Sure, some storms last longer than others. But that is with every aspect of life.

When we were new to this life…when J was just a baby… things were different. The bad times seemed like they were most of the time. And it seems that only sometimes we got a taste of what was “normal.” As time passed…the two switched places. I often tell newly diagnosed families that things will get easier. It's too bad that easier doesn’t mean easy…but it does mean life will be better than it is now. So much better that you will feel normal again. You WILL feel alive again.

I get that normalcy most of the time.

And the sometimes that I don't...well, I blog. And it makes me feel better. :)

(This is a repost from a couple years ago, posted as day 14 on World Diabetes Day for National Blog Posting Month in honor of National Diabetes Awareness Month.)

I support the circle!

2011-11-13T19:27:00.000-08:00

The diabetes community is as diverse as it gets. We are different people with different circumstances fighting the same stereotypes about diabetes every day.

Type 1...Type 2...the world does not know. What MOST of the world thinks it "knows" is that diabetes is a bunch of fat people that need to lose weight.

They don't know that Type 1 is an autoimmune disease. They don't know that my children didn't get diabetes from eating too much sugar. They don't know that not all Type 2 Diabetics can go off medication by losing weight.

The world is surprisingly in the dark. Even the medical community doesn't have their knowledge all together. They don't know the seriousness of it all. Not only do fingers bleed with constant finger sticks...but parents hearts bleed watching it all.

We are a small community with a big voice that isn't being heard. We are like the Who's Down in Whoville. We scream at the top of our lungs, "We are here! We are here! We are here!"

But the world is too busy to listen. If diabetes doesn't affect them or someone they care about, it is hard to get them to open their ears enough to hear our message.

Like the Who's...every one of our voices count. And if we band together the world WILL listen.

In order to do this we need something to unify us. That is why I support the Blue Circle Campaign. The blue circle is already being used by the International Diabetes Federation. It is the symbol of World Diabetes Day. I agree that JDRF and the ADA, and every other foundation that supports the diabetes cause should incorporate the blue circle...somehow...in their mastheads.

Like the pink ribbon, the blue circle would be more meaningful if we could get the world to recognize what it means. Our voices are stronger together, so I urge you to click the link below and sign the petition to make the blue circle the universal symbol for our cause.

Your signature could make all the difference...

Please click HERE.

(This concludes day 13 of my blogging every day in honor of National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

The number's black magic.

2011-11-12T20:15:00.000-08:00

He is a magician. Freakishly tall, sleek and smooth. He has that wry smile that makes us feel little. He has power...control...a regalness to his gait.

He cowers over us swirling his wand in the air, making the numbers dance in dark clouds around our head. They are dizzying. Captivating. All encompassing. We shirk in powerlessness...we get overwhelmed.

It is hard to function in such a state. We let the numbers rule. We let them control our actions.

I can see the image so vividly in my head and it makes me so angry. He sickens me.

And yet I let him get the upper hand sometimes. I GIVE him the pleasure of my miserableness and bow to his evil ways.

It is just wrong.

I need to fight it.

WE need to fight it.

We may need to physically take our own hands and turn our own heads away from the numbers. We may need to consciously walk away from them. I think sometimes it just needs to be that deliberate.

Sometimes we are fortunate enough to wake up to a sunny day and be able to see vividly the blessings and the meaning of this life in front of us...but honestly most days it takes effort to make the most of it all.

It is so easy to be hypnotized by diabetes. It is so easy to give in to the swirling numbers and to live our life by fear.

But fear never moves us forward. NEVER.

There is a quote: “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.”

Fear will always be there...but the knowledge that our children are more important is paramount.

If we let the fear control us, our children will certainly follow our lead. We need to find a way to break the spell of the magician. We need to find a way to make the numbers stay on the meters rather than swirling around our being, constantly obstructing our view to the "real" important things in life.

Because as it turns out, the magicians aren't real.

They are all smoke and mirrors. They make us feel like helplessness is our reality...but it isn't. We have the control to take one number at a time and fix it.

And then move on to the next.

We need to take that step away from it and let our kids be kids. They only have one childhood...one chance at navigating the teenage years. If we don't let them make mistakes, how will they ever learn anything?

I'm physically and metaphorically lifting my head up right this moment. I'm taking it all in, and dismissing the number's black magic.

It is the only way.

(I want to thank my dear friend Raisa for inspiring this post. I was blessed to watch her express her feelings about numbers and her diabetic life through dance. The performance made me think, and brought my complex emotions to the surface. This will wrap up day 12 of National Health Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

Reenactment: An 8 year old and his worries.

2011-11-11T12:15:00.000-08:00

Driving to school yesterday morning:

L: "B...are you planning to get married and have kids someday?"

B: "Of course."

L: "When I grow up I am definitely getting married and having kids."

B: "I'm going to have lots of kids."

L: "Yeah, I'm a little worried about finding a woman that will like me though. I think that will be the hardest part about growing up."

B: "No, the hardest part will be going to college and making enough money so you can buy a house for your family."

L: "Nah. Finding the woman. That is what I'm worried about. She has to be kind, and be able to drive a car. She has to let me sit in the front seat too. But how will I find her?"

Me: "Don't worry about that...you will find her when you least expect it. You will meet her one day and not even know it. She will be your friend and one day you will think, 'I love her, I'm going to marry her.'"

L: "Yeah, but she has to like diabetes...and not too many people like diabetes."

Me: "Do you like it?"

L: "Yeah. 'Cause if I didn't than I would hate it...and that isn't good. I mean I have to do stuff with it ALL the time! If I hated it, and my wife hated it...that would be bad, and sad."

Me: "You are so wonderful, you will find her. That is the last thing you have to worry about. Right now all you have to do is work hard in school."

L: "And test my blood sugar."

Me: "Yes, and test your blood sugar."

(This is me wrapping up day 11 of National Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

Blogjacked by my phone: revisited.

2011-11-10T06:38:00.000-08:00

Can you hear it? My brain is reaching its capacity in the diabetes department. It sounds a little like a helium balloon being filled up very quickly. You know that loud pitched "varoom" noise?

Diabetes overload friends.

I'm falling to sleep with Diabetes on the brain. I'm waking up with diabetes on the brain. There has been a lot of "mishaps" lately with the boys diabetes, which in turn has made my brain extra swelly with information all of the diabetes type.

And then blogging everyday...about diabetes. The writers block I am experiencing right now tells me I need a little break today.

I need to slow things down a bit and breathe.

So to lighten things up I'm going to repost the incident where my phone masterminded a blogjacking. As you know, my boys don't have nurses. They call me from school 4-7 times a day, and as a result my phone and I have become intimate friends.

He's a stinker though, and still up to his old tricks...

(This will be the finish of day 10 of National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

If you looked in our window.

2011-11-09T08:33:00.000-08:00

If you looked in our window:

You would see a family. Blond hair, brown hair...and one with a tint of auburn in it.

You would see a family trying their best, and not always succeeding.

You would see a constant stream of blood droplets and needles. Set changes and pump checks.

You would see a saxophone in the corner and a trumpet in the middle of the floor.

You would see children eating with care. They would size up their food thoughtfully and then enter a number into their pumps.

You would see test strips on the kitchen counter, on two dressers, on the hallway blood sugar station, and on one end table in the family room.

You would see a mother on her computer and you would wonder what she was typing. But her gratified smile would tell you she is happy within the brightness of her screen.

You would see a father changing out of his starched collared shirt and into a comfortable white T shirt.

You would see kids hurrying to get their homework done so they can go on a bike ride with their dad.

You would see parents sitting close with their eyebrows furrowed, looking at the basal review screen on their son's pump.

You would see a refrigerator that doubles as a medicine cabinet and a linen closet that doubles as a pharmacy.

You would see children running around like monkeys trying to see how much they can rile up the dog.

You would occasionally see worry on a mothers face as a child informs her of a blood sugar number, or when the dog alerts to a low.

You would see children gulping down apple juice rather than sipping.

You would see reminder notes of doctors appointments.

You would see boys running to the bathroom without a second to spare.

You would see a blood ketone monitor sitting on the dining room table.

You would see brothers playing video games together.

You would see bravery as a child receives a set change with a needle that would startle you.

You would see that the carpet is more worn near the blood sugar station.

You would see one cabinet filled only with things that would help for a low, and you would see tiny specks of blood on the cabinet door from hasty blood sugar checks done seconds before.

You would see a constant stream of boys at the water dispenser on the fridge.

You would see a father helping with calculus, and mother helping with spelling tests.

You would see extended family coming for dinner and none of the above actions would phase them.

You would see laughter. Bickering. Crying. Joy. Sadness. Peace. Confusion. Calm. Frustration.

You would see happiness.

More than anything though, If you were to look through our window, I hope you would see that love lives here. And that the love makes it all ok.

Because if you stayed long enough you would see the children coming one by one to kiss their parents goodnight, and then you would see them sleep like they don't have a care in the world. You would see the children's perfect faith that their parents and the angels will watch over them while they sleep. And you would see their parents living up to those expectations, because their greatest wish is that their children sleep peacefully and receive this small respite from their diabetic lives.

You would see our family trying our best, loving our best and hoping our best.

It is our normal and our story...and I am thankful for all the facets this diabetic life brings to us. The good and the bad. After all, how would we know joy without knowing sadness too? The images in our window would be pathetic if we didn't try to make the most of the circumstances given us. The sadness isn't going to go away...all we can do is take it one day at a time and try to enjoy the ride the best we can.

(This will end day 9 of National Health Blog Posting Month, where I am blogging everyday in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

My boys are different. So is their diabetes.

2011-11-08T08:13:00.000-08:00

When it came to diabetes, J was perfect. Diagnosed as baby, I thought his responsibleness had to do with diabetes being all he has ever known...but it turns out that wasn't the case. It had more to do with his personality than anything else.

Back in the day, J was a private guy. More than anything, he didn't like the spotlight to be on him. He didn't talk about his diabetes, but if someone asked he would answer succinctly and be done. He didn't hide things like blood sugar testing, but he didn't flaunt it either.

He wanted people to see him as J. Not J the diabetic.

Because of this he KNEW that he needed to be very careful remembering to check his sugar and bolus for his food. I don't think he ever needed reminding from 1st grade to 5th grade. His biggest fear was passing out in front of his friends...that was his worst nightmare. Due to his diligence, that never happened. He was always super responsible and super careful. He was everything a D Mama could hope for, and more.

But he kinda left this legacy with the teachers that diabetes is easy and no big deal. I'm grateful for that, and pulling out my hair because of it too.

Now that B and L are making the rounds with the same elementary teachers J had, I'm getting comments like:

"Wow! J never had issues like this. I wonder why L's sugars are so hard to manage?"

"What happened the other day never happened with J. Why are B's numbers not as level...like J's."

Ay yi yi.

Truth is J's sugars were a little easier to manage than his brothers...but also, J was so quiet in his management that his teachers were never made aware of his highs and his lows. He dealt with them on his own, or with me on the phone. He thought it was none of his teachers business, his numbers were very private to him.

Not with B and L. They are loud and proud diabetics. L especially. He will tell his teacher every number that pops up on his monitor. And when L is high he will check every 15 minutes to make sure he is going down. (Not something I encourage.) I get so many calls from him from school. "Mom! I just checked my sugar and It's 302!!" "Of course it is L! You just had an root beer float for your reading party! It will be down before I pick you up. Give your insulin time to work!"

B is almost as vocal, when he feels low he makes sure his teacher knows. He doesn't like feeling vulnerable. There was an incident at the track last week where B forgot it was track day and forgot to bring his monitor and his fast acting sugar with him. This resulted in a frantic call from his teacher saying B feels, "Lower than he ever has before."

Dramatic much? My mother lives closer to the track than me so she ran to take care of it all. He was fine, and not even close to "lower than I ever felt before." But his teacher couldn't help but say, "Wow, nothing like this ever happened with J."

Because J wouldn't have said a word. He would have waited until they got back to school and he would have dealt with it. Is that a good thing? No. Actually, to be honest this never would have happened because J never would have forgotten his kit. Kids are different.

But his teachers can't help comparing and I can only say, "Diabetes Varies," so many times.

Now don't get me wrong. My boys have AWESOME teachers. We are very blessed to have them. But it goes like this with anyone who doesn't intimately know diabetes like we do.

I'm thankful J had uneventful elementary years, but it is fun to see J turn into a teenager and actually talk all the time and be so animated when he talks. He "forgets" things once in awhile and has lightened up a bit too. He is not the same J he was. I think it was our service dog Lawton that brought him out of his diabetes shell. When he was in sixth grade J proudly wore his diabetes colors, and even brought Lawton to class with him some days. That dog made any reservations about sharing his condition disappear.

My children are my children, but they are also three completely separate identities who deal with their diabetes in completely different ways...who's numbers respond to food in completely different ways...who's carb ratios and sensitivities are not even close to one another.

What works for one boy, doesn't always work for another. They are three individuals. Three different sets of information that I need to store up in my cluttered attic of a brain. That is part of the reason I cringe when people give advice on the internet like it is the answer for everyone. Because from my experience...one piece of advice doesn't even work for all three of my boys...so how can one specific nugget of wisdom be applied to everyone in the general diabetes population?

I wish I could lump everything I know into one specific pile of information for all to read. But at best, all I can do is say..."This works for us," and sometimes, "This works for one of my boys." That is why I blog mostly about the emotional side of it all. But even then...Your feelings may vary too.

(This will wrap up day 8 of National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

A case of the Mondays, on Sunday.

2011-11-07T02:00:00.000-08:00

Today's blog prompt asks us to write about what gets us down. Last night was a perfect example.

Yesterday was L's special day...and how does he spend his birthday? In bed, and on the couch with high blood sugar and ketones. It was a perfect storm that led to all this, and it took MUCH longer than expected to get things back in order.

When your child is crying with stomach cramps...

When your child is throwing up with high ketones...

When your child's blood sugar won't budge...

When you have to do a site change and wonder if your child received the insulin from the previous site...

When your child gets a drink holder for his new bike with a water bottle in it, and all he wants is to open the water asap because he thirsts so vigorously...

when this happens...

A case of the Mondays doesn't even scratch the surface.

Why does the reality of it all have to smack us on what should be his happiest day of the year?

I could ask why all day long.

But instead of wallowing in the why, and the not fairness of it all...I'm going to focus on the fact that he made it through the day without having to go to the hospital.

I'm going to focus on the fact that I got to lay next to my son and rub his feet and hear his stories and his dreams. Because just when I thought I was finally going to lose my composure and give way to the tears...this conversation happened...

"Mom, can I tell you something?"

"Sure baby, what is it?"

"When I'm in the bathroom, sometimes it takes a long time because I just sit there and think about how kind you are to me."

And suddenly...everything is ok again. He is so good at making me laugh and sigh with love all in one fell swoop!

(This'll wrap up day 8 of National Health Blog Posting Month, in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

I'm glad they are here. I think they are too.

2011-11-06T08:18:00.000-08:00

Some of you may not know that L and B share a birthday, two years apart. Both are born on November 6th. Today I would like to re-share a post I wrote earlier this year. I am thankful for every day I have with them...and I think they are thankful for our choice to have more children too:

The most awesome thing I have done in spite of diabetes?

Hands down, easiest question ever...

These two little munchkins right here.

As most of you know, J was diagnosed when he was 8 months old. J is my second son...B and L wern't even on the radar yet.

It was scary, and deliriously confusing when we were told J had Type 1 Diabetes. We spent a week in the hospital…mostly for J to recover from his ketoacidosis…and a little bit because I needed to learn how to take care of my little boy. (The hospital obviously didn’t think this was too big of a deal, they sent me home with a book and my pediatricians home phone number. “Call him when you need to give insulin.” Yeah, that got old fast, for all of us involved.)

Anyway…back to the hospital….My husband or someone would try to come by once a day to give me a break. I would usually go down to the cafeteria and spend my time feeling guilty I wasn’t with J. I would silently sob in the corner and pick at my food.

One particular day I was in line for the food and already felt tears falling on my cheek. A friendly faced older lady put her hand on my shoulder. “What’s your story, honey?”

I told her how my second son had just been diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes and the new world we were being thrown in. I told her he was so sick and so skinny, it was hard to see him in such a state.

“Well you have two boys…since you won’t be having any more, you are very lucky to even have them considering what has been passed down to them.”

Say what the huh?

That hit me like a ton of bricks.

Really? I’m not having any more? Was she right? I mean that was the last thing on my mind…but did this mean it was the end of the line? Two and no more?

She wasn’t the only one to make this comment. Many others made comments to the effect that I better not have more, as I didn’t want to pass this on to another child.

Pass it on? Was I really passing it on? For awhile the answer in my mind was yes. I felt like this had to be my fault. I felt like J was being punished just so that I could learn to be a better person. (Diagnosis and lack of sleep do a number on your swelly brain!)

But the passage of time is a funny thing…

Time changes perspectives.

Time heals wounds, even mental ones.

And one day, I knew…we needed to have another.

And one day, exactly two years later, God sent us another.

And then yeah, THEN we were done.

Two years after our last son came into our family…diabetes made another appearance.

And one year later…another appearance.

Do I regret having these two boys? Heck to the no.

Do I feel responsible for their diabetes. No, no I don’t.

We are like lottery winners; no one could have predicted our lot. NO ONE.

We were told we had a 3% chance of having a second child with diabetes.

That is a 97% chance that we wouldn’t. But who cares about percentages. You never know where you will fall, so they are useless. All that is important is I have two of the most precious souls in the universe here in my home. Yes, they have diabetes. Yes, I wish they didn’t have to endure diabetes…

But they are thriving.

And they are happy.

And they are part of a bigger picture.

I can’t imagine life without B and L. Would I have had them if I KNEW they were going to have Type 1?

I think they would have hoped…that regardless of their circumstances, I would have said yes.

(This marks day 7 of National Health Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month!)

A safe haven for my imaginary friends.

2011-11-05T20:58:00.000-07:00

My boys often make fun of my "imaginary friends." These friends live in the computer and my boys think it is hilarious that I talk about them like they are my next door neighbors.

Have you ever seen "Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends?" It is a cartoon home where imaginary friends go when the child who imagined them doesn't play with them anymore. They all stay in this foster home and hope that someone will adopt them/become their friend.

I think our blogs and Facebook may be a "foster home for D mama friends."

We need a place where we can be taken care of by people who understand our crazy. So we band together and form groups, and friendships on our computer that are just as real as our beating hearts.

We are fed by "sameness" and lifted up by comments that say, "I so get it!" And, "You are rocking it!" And, "I'm so sorry, hope things start looking up!" It is a safe haven, and when we get an opportunity to hug one of those "imaginary friends" in real life? Well, is there anything better?

Today I got to meet up with Leigh of the Evan's Kiddos, and her sweet family. It was a wonderful feeling to know that the person I met on the computer is exactly how she is in real life. It is hard to hide your heart when you blog. You can't fake it when you are pouring your heart out, 'cause people will figure you out whether you want them to or not. In fact all of you have probably figured out I'm halfway to Crazyville by now.

But that is ok. I am who I am. And you are who you are, and I love you for it! We are all different sizes and have different quirks, and different perspectives...but we all have one goal...

We all seek for acceptance of our diabetic lives. We want our children to be happy in their circumstance, and we all hope for a better day, a better way for them.

My children may joke that you are all imaginary...but I know you are real. I know you go through your day doing the best you can, and I'm thankful that you take a minute out of your busy lives to see what I am up to. Your friendship is such a gift!

Our blogs, Facebook and other communities are our foster homes. We take each other in and we nurture each other there. I am so so thankful for that!

(This completes Day 5 of National Health Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness month! Phew! It's 9:00pm my time, that was a close one!)

You're going to miss this.

2011-11-04T02:00:00.000-07:00

When I was a young bride my mindset was always on the future.

"When..."

When we have a baby...When we have our very own home...When we have more babies...When the boys aren't toddlers anymore...When the boys are all in school...When my husband gets a new job...when...when...when...

I hate to admit it but I've spent most of my life not living in the moment. Growing older, (and hopefully a little bit wiser,) that has all changed. In fact I find myself savoring the little things more and more. The cute pucker on L's lips when he concentrates very hard, the way B sometimes moves his lips even after he is done talking, the fact that J will still hold my hand on family walks, and M's amazing smile. These little things bring me so much joy...so much so I have a lot of regret.

Back when my boys were tiny I wish I enjoyed the crazy moments more. There were days when the hours were chaotic followed by more hours of chaos. In those days I would think..."When..."

I made the biggest mistake by not slowing down and savoring those moments. I'm sure that part of it is the learning curve of motherhood. I was so much harder on M than I was on J. And so much harder on J than I was on B. And I'm so much harder on B than I am on L. (L seriously has it easy.) I'm not the same mother I was 16 years ago. If only I could go back in time and tell myself to enjoy that infant cry. If only I could visit the old me and tell her that those high blood sugars aren't her fault. If only I could cheer myself on and tell her/me that the boys will make it until tomorrow.

If only I didn't worry so much.

I believe we are here to find the joy in the little things, that our time on earth isn't meant to be miserable. I believe that there is a bigger picture and it is up to us to find the right perspective.

It is up to us to wake up in the morning and say to ourselves..."I'm going to make today as great as it can be. I'm going to hope my very best, try my very best, and love my very best." I think if we have the right perspective everything else will work itself out.

Because we are going to miss this.

We are going to miss today.

It is a country song that I have on my ipod. I don't listen to it hardly ever...but it does pop up now and then when I'm on the treadmill. It is by Trace Adkins and the chorus goes like this:

You're going to miss this
You're going to want this back
You're going to wish these days
Hadn't gone by so fast
These are some good times
So take a good look around
You may not know it now
But you're going to miss this

This is all especially poignant to me as my oldest is a Junior in High School. It is going by too fast. I've made a total 180 on my earlier mantras...I don't want to speed up time...I want to stop it. I've said it before, if I could can them and keep them up on a shelf I would. I want to preserve their innocence. I want them to keep calling me mama.

We celebrate three birthdays this month. On Sunday J and B will be 8 and 10. J and B are my littles and they aren't so little anymore. J will be 14 in a couple weeks and M is 16.

Make. It. Stop.

Take it from a mama that missed out on the little things for too many years: Enjoy every moment. Even the bad ones.

'Cause you ARE going to miss them.

Even if right now is a roller coaster of emotions...

You ARE going to want this back.

I promise.

(This is me going rogue on day 4 of National Health Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month. Today's suggested topic was "what do you do with your blog post after you push publish." I reread and change it like a dozen times in case you were wondering. When you are an awful speller like myself, there is no other option. :)

Dear 18 year old me...

2011-11-03T02:00:00.000-07:00

Dear 18 year old me,

I know you think you are too young to know. But he is the one, and he will make you happier than you ever imagined.

It is ok to go with your heart. Your heart is spot on.

But there is something you need to know. The journey that lies ahead, although blessed and sweeter than your wildest dreams, is also going to be harder than anything you can wrap your brain around.

You have worried about school tests, friendships and acne...but those worries don't even scratch the surface of the worry that will fill your entire being when your children are born.

They will be special. They will have needs that not many people will be able to comprehend. You will question if you are strong enough. You will question if your Heavenly Father truly knows how much you can handle...because there will be days he will give you ALL you can handle. Days when the heartache will feel like it will stop you heart at any moment.

But don't fear. Your children will be worth every sleepless night. Their resilience and their courage will inspire you to be better than you thought you could be. Stronger than you ever thought you would have to be. The refiners fire will mold the lives in your home into a true family.

A family that appreciates the little things.

A family that laughs harder, cries harder, and tries harder than most.

A family that is stronger together than apart.

It will be all you ever hoped for, and more.

I envy you, I remember all your hopes and dreams vividly. You may wonder if it is naive to think that love will see you through anything...

But let me tell you...

You are right. Love is all you need. and there will be plenty to go around.

All my love,

Your future you.

Circa 2011

P.S. In 1998 you will find yourself in the hospital with your second born and a well meaning elderly lady will tell you that you shouldn't have any more children. You will meet her by chance in the cafeteria. She will be very intimidating, and make you feel like it is your fault your son was diagnosed. Kindly tell her to suck it for me. Thanks!

(Day three complete for National Health Blog Posting Month in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month!)

Oprah wishes she had this much material

2011-11-02T07:56:00.000-07:00

Our life wrapped up in a half hour weekly sitcom? I think not. What goes on around here is much too schizophrenic for that. We would need an entire network to accurately portray Our Diabetic Life.

Move over Oprah!

A Soap Opera on the network is a must. It would go into detail about my love/hate relationship with insulin. How I can't live without it around here, and how I wish my refrigerator could chew it up and spit it out. There would be a lot of dramatic looks away, and a lot of me kissing the insulin bottles feet.

We would need a comedy for sure. Laugh tracks will play when my son tells me that he had a dream a giant carb was chasing him...or when another son knocks his cereal bowl onto the floor and can't tell me how much was eaten or how much was lost. It would probably be a comedy of errors at best.

There would be action adventure. Meri vs. Wild? Wherein the first episode would be me stranded somewhere on a desert isle with the boys, and I must fashion an insulin pump out of a coconut, a reed and an ink pen. I could make it happen...I'm pretty sure...

We'd probably need a nightly horror flick. Our best episode would probably portray when J had a bleeder and it got all over my...CARPET...dun dun dun!!!! Another would be L's 36 on Halloween night. Talk about scary! Oh, I shudder just thinking about it!

A talk show would nicely round out the lineup. I would spew all my feelings at the camera, much like I do on this blog. I would cry a lot, laugh a lot and just plain go off on tangents a lot. I think the ratings would be pretty good for this one...everyone likes to see a vulnerable person go bat crazy right in front of their eyes. That is why reality shows do so well, right? Just catch me on a day when the boys all start their growth spurts and you'll have some pretty fantastical TV my friends.

It would be one big reality show network about our lives, and people will no doubt be exhausted from the emotional roller coaster it will take them on...but hey...tis our life! Our Diabetic Life.

(This will conclude day 2 of National Health Blog Posting Month. Where I will blog for 30 days straight in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month.)

My life in one book title.

2011-11-01T08:44:00.000-07:00

Welcome to day one of my trip down the rabbit hole. If you didn't catch it yesterday, I'll be participating in National Health Blog Posting Month, (or NBPM,) in honor of Diabetes Awareness Month. This means I'll be blogging every day. That is a lot of me. I apologize ahead of time for week two or three, when you will undoubtedly be sick of my constant posts!

Today's prompt was: Titles of my future book. Say you’re writing a book about your life, community, condition, or Health Activism. Come up with working titles and a quick book jacket synopsis.

Actually, I didn't have to think about this one. I've always had a title for my life in the back of my swelly brain. It is just one more piece of information I am holding onto until I can use it someday.

The title would be: "My Umbrella of Hope"

I would have a picture of me in the rain, with an umbrella made out of the word hope...or something...

The tag line would be a little trickier...hmmm...maybe...

"Protecting my family from the Type 1 Diabetes storm."

Maybe, "TYRING to protect my family from the storm of Type 1 Diabetes."

Or...maybe my book should be called:

"My Kaleidoscope Life of Worry and Joy. The many emotions of a mother with three kids with Type 1 Diabetes."

How long are these titles allowed to be, anyway?

Good thing I don't have to come up with a hard answer now. I'm sure it will be years and years before I endeavour to take on writing a book. Maybe I should take on the teen years first? (Will I even survive the teen years? That remains to be seen.)

What would the title of your book be called?

"Autoimmune Happens?"

"When Insulin Met Sally?"

Inquiring minds want to know!

The Meri Tribune

2011-10-30T22:50:00.000-07:00

Today I am cleaning out my inbox and sharing a load of awesome information. It just isn't right that I keep it to myself! November is National Diabetes Awareness Month, and there are a ton of things happening to further our cause! Pick and choose what your family might want to get involved with. I'm posting all the links in case you want to know more!

The Big Blue Test: Sponsored by the Diabetic Hands Association and Roche, the Big Blue Test asks all people touched by diabetes to:

-Test their blood sugar
-Get active for at least 14 minutes
-Test their blood sugar again
-Share their numbers on http://bigbluetest.org

Do this between November 1st and 14th and Roche will donate $75,000 in connection with the number of people that DO the Big Blue Test. These funds will be re-granted among 6 humanitarian diabetes programs (1 international and 5 US-based) to support more than 8,000 people with diabetes in need (up from 2,000 people that were supported last year!) Take a bike ride. Do jumping jacks. Take a walk as a family. Do the Big Blue Test, record your results and in return help others with diabetes in need. WIN/WIN!

Team Type 1 Runs Across America: Starting in Oceanside, CA, 10 runners—all with type 1 diabetes— will run 3,000 miles to raise awareness for type 1 diabetes. The run will end in New York City on November 14, World Diabetes Day. Meanwhile, TrialNet will be racing to screen 3,000 people—one for every mile that Team Type 1 runs. This will bring the total number of people taking part in TrialNet research to 100,000. There is more info about the run at Laura's blog: HERE.

As you may know, TrialNet is an international network of researchers who are exploring ways to prevent and delay the progression of type 1 diabetes. My son M and my husband and I have been tested by TrialNet. You can find more information HERE.

Medtronic Receives IDE Approval to Conduct ASPIRE In-Home Study of First Insulin Pump with Low Glucose Suspend for US Market: I'm especially excited about this one! We have been waiting for this step forward for us here in the good ol' US of A. Read the press release HERE. Also, Medtronic is now on Twitter...you can find them HERE. They also have launched a new blog this year called The Loop...this last article is awesome. It really puts all we, and our children, have to think about in perspective. I mean I knew my brain was swelly for a reason, but seeing it all typed out like this is eye opening to say the least! Take a look...it is so worth your time! The link is HERE.

Cookbooks for a cause! Laura's mother and her sisters have written an amazing cookbook. It is a project of love with all proceeds going to Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation (JDRF) and to the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America (CCFA). To order one, visit Laura's blog HERE. I've seen pictures of her mothers dishes, and let me tell you...it'll be worth every penny!

World Diabetes Postcard Exchange! It isn't too late to sign up! Send a postcard somewhere in the world to another family that has the same heart, and the same day to day grind as you! And then receive one back! You can visit The Butter Compartment HERE.

Blue Fridays: Blue Fridays is an initiative to bring attention to World Diabetes Day, and to advocate and bring awareness for diabetes and the people living with it. Diabetes is more than a national issue; it's a world epidemic. This year, Cherise from Diabetes Social Media Advocacy wants to rally the diabetes community to celebrate World Diabetes Day and Diabetes Awareness Month by asking people to wear blue every Friday during the Month of November and on World Diabetes Day (November 14). How easy is this one? I think we can all get on board here!

D Blog Day: November 9th is D Blog Day and you can participate whether you have a blog or not! Gina (Your diabetes BFF) wants to make a scrapbook from families all around the world! All you need is a 12x12 piece of paper and some imagination. ON the 9th you can post the pic of your page on your blog, and then mail it in to Gina for the scrapbook masterpiece! You can find out more about that HERE!

Lastly! In honor of Diabetes Awareness Month I will be joining Wego Health and will be participating in National Health Blog Post Month. This means I will be blogging every day in November. If you have a blog...please join me in the madness! You can sign up HERE! I don't mean to spam you all month. Please read when you can. I just feel really strongly that this is the month I need to step up and advocate the best I can! Wego Health has provided some prompts to help me out. Thank you for putting up with me!

That about wraps it up! It is going to be a crazy month friends. Better put on your seat belt for this one, it is already proving to be fast and furious!

Happy Halloween!

Basals. A tough nut to crack...but oh so tasty!

2011-10-26T08:06:00.000-07:00

We love pistachios.

They are for sure one of our favoritest nuts. So when we were at Costco last week and saw this little beauty, all shelled and ready for immediate consumption...well, we grabbed it and headed straight for the register.

We popped it open when we got home and they were really good.

Really good. Not really great.

What is it about working for them...prying them out of their nut jail cells, that makes them taste oh so much better?

How can putting effort into something make something all the more sublime?

Like our pistachios...basal tweaking gives us an equally euphoric feeling when we work hard for that golden nut in the middle...and we finally reach it.

I think I have cracked our wonky numbers hard shell...and what I have found tastes better than pistachios, or even chocolate itself.

I have found my marbles again. I have found a sense of predictability. And best of all, I have found my confidence. Today I find myself not scared of the decisions I make. And that yields a tasty nugget of happiness for sure!

What if dialed in basals were as easy to come by as an entire bag of shelled pistachios? Would we appreciate what we have? Or would the sense of satisfaction be moot?

I'm not sure of the answer to that question, but I can tell you one thing...

If I saw this sitting on the shelf in Costco...I would most certainly buy three...and risk the flavor of personal achievement. I think in this case, there is a good chance it would be worth the trade off.

(PS My last post was posted on Monday, but written Friday Night. I've been tweaking basals for weeks and am finally seeing the sun! We hit a triple with yesterdays numbers, and I am sighing a big fat sigh of relief. Can't say we're out of the woods yet...but that sun feels oh so warm and inviting!)

Remembering when my middle name was Ann.

2011-10-24T06:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think it would be easier if I didn't remember. If only the days when my biggest worry was if a snotty nose was going to turn into an ear infection didn't burn in my swelly brain...maybe I would be having a better day than I am today.

Because today it feels like all the walls that I have built to protect me from my simpler past, are crumbling.

Three weeks ago every one of my boys had basals dialed in as succinct as a fine quartz watch...and now I don't know what I will find when the countdown flashes on the monitor. Any predictability I had before is gone.

When my boys call me with their numbers at snack I hold my breath...praying it begins with a one. "ONE ONE ONE," I scream in my brain as I'm waiting for the number, "PLEASE, START WITH A ONE."

It has all fallen apart that quickly.

And I wish this was all I knew. Because the echoes of yesterdays are screaming in my ear.

I remember.

I remember feeding my child and not doing algebra theorems in my head.

I remember leaving the house with only a wallet.

I remember going to sleep before my head hit the pillow...without setting an alarm.

I remember when my middle name was Ann...not Worry...

I remember.

And the worst part of it all is I wonder if my boys remember too.

These wonky numbers are ripping my soul out. If our children were in danger, we would protect them. But what do we do when the invader is their own immune system? How can we protect them from themselves?

I can't check their sugars more. I swear L's fingers are going to disappear from all the chiseling that lancet is doing. And he doesn't blink an eye. In fact he'll check his sugar every hour if he is feeling off. On his own. He is 7, and obviously going through a mammoth growth spurt at this very moment.

I feel so vulnerable. The numbness is wearing off. I was able to keep myself numb to all the numbers for so long...and now it is like the doctor has turned off the anesthesia and I can FEEL. Every number burns. Every carb count FEELS like the most important decision of my life. The weight has returned and my back aches from the guilt.

Guilt that I can't protect my children as well as I'd like to.

I wish I was smarter.

I wish I could fix it all.

I wish...

My mind knows that sooner or later we'll figure it all out and I will feel better as quickly as all of the recent occurrences have brought me down...

But my heart can't ignore the sight of my children in front of me...

Eating as fast as they can to satiate a low.

Gulping down water to quench the thirst of a high.

Washing blood droplets off their fingertips from constant checking.

Enduring extra set changes in hopes of fixing sustained highs.

Watching it hurts my heart.

I want to turn away, but we all know that will never be an option. They are counting on me.

So I will be there every minute, every step, trying to bring us back to the tick tick tick of predictability. And when we get there, I will rebuild those walls, and I will forget those simpler days again. I will look forward to the bright future that waits for my brave, selfless boys...and I will find ways to mask the daily grind of this disease.

Because all this focusing on the daily grind is grinding my spirit down to top soil. The boys don't need fertilizer for a mother. They need a rock.

May the good Lord help me to be that rock. From this blog, to His ears...

It's laughing at me.

2011-10-19T07:54:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago our nurse sent us some coupons for free pump skins. It couldn't have come at a better time because little L was upset that he didn't get a new pump like his brothers did. The boys perused the offerings and then decided to create their own skins. (For you Medtronic folks, you can find the skins HERE.)

First up: A pic of our dog Lawton. Both B and L wanted the same picture and didn't care that they would match. L picked a green background...B picked dark blue.

At the bottom of the pump skin there was room for more creating so L opted to have his name put there.

B was very clear about what he wanted too: LOL!

No, I wasn't laughing there. That is exactly what he wanted written on his pump: "LOL!"

I tried to playfully talk him out of it. I mean, it is so random. But my B LOVES random. And "LOL!" it was.

Fast forward to the past couple days. B's numbers have been wonky at best. Out of NOWHERE we are getting lows. A couple days ago, a 39. Yesterday a 46. Then he jumps up quickly to the 200's, and then we resume the roller coaster ride for the rest of the day. There is nothing worse than having predictability go out the window. Last night he tests before bed at 8:00 and he is 280. Weird. He barely ate any dinner. We cleaned the finger to verify, and then corrected. One hour later: 124.

At that point I wondered if I was on candid camera.

When pulling out his pump to enter a temp basal of zero for one hour...I saw it.

"LOL!"

It was laughing at me.

Not cool.

The ironic image has stayed with me all night long. I couldn't sleep, and neither could my husband...we chatted in bed for hours. L was high at the 2am check. 302. We meant to recheck but our bodies finally were able to sleep. And sleep we did.

L woke up 498. 4.2 blood ketones.

As I changed his set, (which was full of blood,) and grabbed his pump to correct the injustice of said blood...the image struck me...

Like a ghost haunting me, the letters "LOL!" transposed themselves onto L's pump too. Clear as day...his pump was laughing at me.

I don't know about you, but I don't like being laughed at in situations that are meant to be mean. And trust me...those pumps meant to be mean.

My feelings are a little bit hurt.

But I'm dusting myself off and devising a plan to have the last laugh myself.

L has gone back to sleep now with two full glasses of water and a fresh blood free set in his body. He has lab fresh insulin running through his system...and he is going to be ok. I changed B's basals a week ago...I dialed those back.

Take that universe.

We'll see who's laughing tomorrow!

(Here's a hint: It will not be you.)

LOL! LOL! LOL! LOL! LOL! (Yeah, I'm kinda maniacally laughing right now. Don't worry too much about me. I'll be ok too. Tomorrow...I'll be ok too. Yep, I'll totally be ok too. If I keep saying it, it will come true, right?)

Push Pause.

2011-10-17T09:30:00.000-07:00

There is a crosswalk in the middle of town that no one stops for. There can be people waiting there for a good ten minutes to cross while cars rush by in their hast.

There is a four way stop less than a mile up the road, near a group of schools, where no one waits for their turn. If there is a shortcut or a small window of opportunity...they will take it.

Many fly through yellow lights when they know they won't make it through before it turns red.

Many cut in front of people when they KNOW the other person will have to step heavily on their brakes to allow them access.

What has happened to us?

It is like we all are flung out of a slingshots as soon as we rise in the morning and we can't stop the trajectory of our flights.

We are flying through life out of control, with our mouths flung open and with muffled screams unavoidably coming from our throats. Our eyes sting from the wind, so much so, we have lost sight of what is important. Is it no wonder when diabetes is thrown into the mix we become flying lunatics?

One small thing. It only takes one small thing to give that slingshot enough power to fling us out of the stratosphere.

* One high blood sugar that came out of left field.

* One night when you catch a low you weren't even planning on checking for.

* One day when you realize your child's pump is out of insulin.

* One second when you realize you forgot to order supplies.

* One minute when you remember you didn't have your child check their sugar before they began eating dinner.

There is a thousand scenarios...and only one problem. We aren't keeping our feet on the ground. We are running our lives in fast forward.

We need the presence of mind sometimes to just push pause.

Pause and stop the madness. Our brains are fickle. They like to get caught up in the chaos. They like to bring things to the next level, and then the next, and then to the next...

Our brains like to THINK about everything!

They like to ANALYZE everything!

They like to WORRY about everything!

We need to stop the madness and push pause.

How can we do that?

I've been thinking of ways all morning. You see, last week I was shot out of a cannon and have just only today realized I didn't consciously step up and do something to stop the madness. I let the strength of the TNT of life take me on the dangerous flight. A ride that had me flailing my arms and left me with the feeling that I have lost control over all that is good.

'Cause when you are flying through the air without anything to keep you grounded...the only feeling one is left with is despair.

And that is where I was. Too much going on for me to take the time to look for that parachute that could get me back to earth.

But today, as I was driving home from dropping off the boys, I did something crazy.

I slowed down.

I turned off the radio.

I sat in silence and watched the world race around me and I realized...I could have stopped it.

I just needed to press pause.

What would pressing pause look like for you? For me it was finding some silence.

For me it might even look like a long bath. Or a good book.

Things that I don't allow myself the pleasure of slowing down for. Things that I say to myself won't make that much of a difference because it won't actually take the troubles away. Sure, maybe they won't...but they will give me the time I need to rediscover all that is good in my life. And not surprisingly, that isn't a hard thing to do. The good FAR FAR FAR outweighs the bad.

I just needed to press pause for 10 minutes to find it.

The video below doesn't have much to do with this post, but I thought about it as I was writing. I take so much for granted, and I think it has a lot to do with my frustrations and letting things get to me. Perspective is everything...

The ugly and inevitable truth.

2011-10-10T09:56:00.000-07:00

My husband and I don't trust our kids as far as we can throw them. Sure, we give them a sense of comfort. We reassure them that we have full faith in their choices. We lift them up with words of adoration and respect.

But in reality, we are just waiting. We know they are going to do something crazy stupid sometime. We were kids once. We were teenagers once. We know all the tricks in the book.

Anyway, when it comes to diabetes...same rules apply. We kinda' figure they are lying until they prove it. J, more than any of our boys, gets the jest of the game. I'll ask him what his blood sugar was at school when I pick him up and he'll always rattle off a number. Sometimes I'll look him deep in his eyes...down to his soul...to see if I can see any hint of a lie in his answer. He is really good at giving me his stare of complete confidence back. He knows my tricks too. So most of the time I make him show me on his meter, and he hurriedly takes it out of his backpack to show me what a donkey butt I am for questioning his honesty.

I do this because I've caught him before. Not that he is a bad kid. On the contrary...he is as wonderful as they come. But EVERY kid tries to get away with something. For J, at the end of last year it was not checking his sugar at school for almost a month. I found this out at Open House when all his teachers told me that J was eating out of his low boxes for the first time all year...and they needed a restock of supplies. This happened only when I got comfortable. I questioned him and tested his honesty almost every day his entire 7th grade year. I stopped questioning him after his endo appt in March of that year because his A1C was AMAZING, and the endo praised him up and down for what she saw on his pump print out. I questioned my questioning him all the time. Was I too harsh? He is so responsible, and amazing at taking care of himself...so I backed off for a couple months.

And that resulted in opening a window for him. Would I have taken advantage of that freedom when I was 13? You bet your Aqua Net hairspray and Jimmy Z T-shirt I would have.

So we are back to the game, and he is back to being uber responsible and testing again.

But my son is super smart. And he'll find more open windows. In fact, just last week I felt a draft, and sure enough I saw it...out of the corner of my eye as I walked by J filling his reservoir for his pump.

He had the sucker filled to capacity. He only needs it 3/4 filled at most. I knew in that split second that he was filling it up so that he could extend his set change another day or even two.

Genius. I honestly had to give him props.

But I didn't say anything. I waited for the right time. Lucky for me, I didn't have to wait long.

It was about 4 days later when I did my nighttime check on J and had to correct his sugar. I turned on the light to his pump and saw that he only had about 14 units left of insulin. "Remind him to change his set in the morning," I whispered to myself.

The next morning was chaos...the kind of morning where your brain is like scrambled eggs and it is all you can do just to get out the door dressed. Well that morning, I forgot to remind him, and realized only when I got home from dropping him off. He wouldn't have enough insulin to cover lunch...I knew that.

So at lunch I made my way to the Jr. High and had them call him out of class to do his set change.

He came into the office, weary of my presence.

"Hey J, isn't it like day five of that set...you need insulin, right?"

He looked at me for a long moment. I could practically see the cogs in his brain turning trying to figure out how I knew...

"Um, yeah...I'll change it now."

I handed him the insulin and reveled in my victory.

He doesn't know how long I knew. But I gave him the impression that I am all knowing. AND THAT is all that is important.

We need to stay on top of our kids. I'm not bat poop crazy enough to be on their case all the time, that would send them into rebel mode and we don't like it there. We just need to be sure that they know we are paying attention. We need to pick the right times to question. We need to be consistent with our questions, and kind in our timing.

They are going to lie. It is OK. They don't do it maliciously. It is part laziness, part boredom with the whole routine. I get why he does it...and like I said, I don't blame him for it.

But it doesn't make it ok. I made a deal with J that he only has to check 1 time at school. I compromised...I would ideally like for him to check 3 times at school. But I understand that for a 13 year old who has such a handle on it all I needed to make these compromises.

I don't ask for much, but what I do ask for needs to be done.

No exceptions.

His life means the world to me, and his future relies on healthy habits. One of those is checking his sugar at school.

The set change problem? I'll let the endo get on his case about that. I don't like being the bad guy. She'll see it on his print out and she'll have words with him, and then I'll follow through.

Four days with one set isn't going to end the world. It actually doesn't bother me as long as he is still getting good numbers on day 4. We'll see what happens. Can't bust out the diatribes unless they are needed.

Because if I have learned anything the past 13 years...

Success is 50% consistency and 50% empathy and 10% timing.

Yes, that does equal 110%. We have to put in more than 100%...it is our calling as pancreases to do so.

The Meri-est world ever!

2011-10-07T00:01:00.000-07:00

(Today is NO D DAY. Shhhhh...we're not allowed to talk about anything "D" related. So saddle up. This is going to be an interesting ride!)

Last year on No D Day I contemplated actions I would take if I, "Took over the world or whatever."

This year I would like to add to that list. Not that dictatorships are ok or anything, but let's face it...if I ruled the world, it would be a better place. I'm not bragging, I'm just being honest, and HEY! There is an attribute right there, (honestly,) that totally PROVES I would rock this Overlord thing!

Let's get to it! If I ruled the world:

* I would get rid of high fructose corn syrup. I'm pretty sure that stuff has to go for the human race to survive.

* Cars would cost one fixed price. It isn't fair that some people pay less and some people pay more for the same car.

* Dora The Explorer reruns would be GONE. There just would have to be a new one made every day. It has been a good 3 years since we watched it/were obsessed with it, and I was saddened to flip through the channels the other day AND THE VERY SAME EPISODES I'VE SEEN 200,000,000 TIMES ARE STILL PLAYING! Not cool.

* Yo Gabba Gabba...yeah, that one is gone too.

* And speaking of children cartoons: What is up with that show, "Bakugon?" The characters are little flying robot balls that have no mouths. So when they speak their whole bodies have to move. Like a bad imitation of the robot from Lost in Space. ("Danger Will Robinson.") I imitated their moves while the boys were watching TV the other day and realized if we needed to move our entire bodies every time we spoke, we would all be fit and trim. "Speak like you're a Bakugon" might make it onto my edict too. (Buh Bye Weight Watchers!)

* If you are driving, and you merge into a turning lane and you leave the butt of your car in the other lane, people are allowed to hit your car, and you are responsible for damages. (OK, that one is a little mean, but tuck your butt in people!)

* Dog food would have to smell like candy..or roses. Candied roses. Yeah.

* Every Children's Jacket would be required to be manufactured with a HUGE WHITE TAG for the kids to write their names on. Seriously, most of my boys jacket are made with black tags now. Where am I supposed to write their name???

* Good bye Jeggings.

* Stephan Spielberg would have to make every other movie a family feel good/inspirational film.

* Stain resistant carpet would actually be...stain resistant. I know! Brilliant, right?

* Every carrier would offer the iphone. (And for serious, if I were the World Queen/Whatever there would be an iphone 5 out right now.)

* All children under the age of 18 must be in bed by 8:30 pm. I think the world would be a better place if everyone had a good night sleep.

* Before we'd fund the war, we would fully fund our schools. And if there was no money left, well...oops. Schools first. How can we have a good future if we don't raise smarties?

* Cupcakes, bacon and those almond caramel chocolate clusters at Costco...those would go into a bigger section on the food pyramid.

* And last but not least...last year I was contemplating getting rid of Thursdays...this year Mondays would be x'ed out too. I'm sorry. They just have to go.

What would you do to make my monarchy better? I'm open to suggestions. In fact, remind me to put a suggestion box by my Ruler of The World office door...I'd totally be nice that way. I'd probably even read them too! I guess the real question now is, how can you NOT want me to rule the world?

(And just imagine all the great ideas I would have if I were allowed to mention "D!" 'Nuff said!)

The cold slushy truth. Too much to ask for?

2011-10-03T23:02:00.000-07:00

I was never a big fan of the Slurpee. Give me chocolate any day of the week. But my husband discovered the sugar free Slurpee by chance, and ever since it has been the special treat of choice in the Schuhmacher household.

True-True that the Slurpee isn't really "sugar free." There are carbs in there for sure. But we are in a place right now where all the boys get "free" afterschool snacks or else they go low. We get the smallest size and no one needs to bolus...win/win!

It was a couple months ago that we discovered a new sugar free flavor called Cherry Apple. MAN ALIVE was it delicious! Seriously, I never in my life expected that last sentence to come out of this keyboard...but it was so good I actually had cravings for it after. I kept it as my little secret though. The boys don't need to know I crave junk, right?

It was a hot September day when I casually suggested we go get Slurpees.

The boys, thinking I was the coolest mom ever, enthusiastically agreed.

After we drove a good five miles away from our normal route home, about 10 minutes with the traffic, we finally reached our destination. We all hopped out of the car and headed for the Slurpee corner of the market.

J: "Noooooooooo!!"

Me: "What's wrong? Oh my gosh, you forgot to bolus for lunch, right? I'm right! Right?"

J: "No, they changed the sugar free flavor to Peach Mango."

B: "That is ok, I like that one too..."

L: "Oh, it's orange, I bet it is good..."

Me: "Stop! Don't grab those cups! Let's go to the other 7-11 down the road and see if they have the Cherry Apple."

B: "It's ok Mo...."

Me cutting him off: "No...only the best for my boys. I don't mind, let's go!" Said in my chipperest best mom voice while already having one foot out the door. (Man, I was craving that Cherry Apple. No judging me! Peach Mango tastes like throw up. It is a proven fact.)

We get to the next 7-11 and go inside.

J: "Noooooooooo!! They don't have any sugar free flavors!"

Me: "Let's keep movin'! There is another one just a few miles down the street!"

We get to 7-11 number 3 and I send J inside to case the joint and see if they have what we are looking for. J pressed his face against the door and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up!

"Alright boys, let's do this thing!"

I could practically taste the cold tart goodness already. It was almost 100 degrees outside. I was SO ready!

We run in like a herd of buffalo and grab our cups. J fills his first, followed by B.

Me: "B, stop!"

B: "I can do it on my own mom...I've done it before."

Me: "No stop!" I take the cup from him and look at the orange color inside.

"This is not Cherry Apple." I taste it and can't place the flavor. The fountain SAYS Cherry Apple...but Cherry Apple is red...not orange.

I take the incriminating evidence to the front counter.

"Excuse me, can you confirm for me that this is in fact, Sugar Free Cherry Apple? It is orange...I'm concerned there has been a mistake."

I can see a customer in the corner of me eye confused as to why I am so official when speaking of Slurpee flavors. His face says, "What are you? The Slurpee Police?"

"Sure. I'll check for you." The counter guy disappears into the back room and returns fairly quickly.

"It is orange. The Cherry Apple has been put in behind it. Once this flavor is gone, the Cherry Apple will come through."

"Is this 'orange' flavor sugar free?"

"No."

Oh H-E-DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS no! That was the wrong answer.

"Here is what you need to do," I use my fingers to frame the sugar free sign and look him straight in the eye, " You need cover this sign that says sugar free until you are 100% sure it is only Cherry Apple coming through."

"Oh maam, it is there. It will come through soon."

"Oh no no no. It isn't the flavor...it is the sugar free part. You see my boys have Type 1 Diabetes. This full sugar Orange Slurpee is like poison to them. If they drank this, and I didn't give them insulin thinking it was sugar free...well their sugar would be so dangerously high they could end up in the hospital. There are people in this city that count on this sign being correct. We are some of those people. In our world, this sign is VERY important."

(I know...a little dramatic, but I was caught up in the moment. Sugar free Slurpees run around 6g of carbs per 8oz., the plain ol' full sugar variety can hit 47g of carbs for an 8 oz cup. I don't even want to imagine what a 47-carb-fast-acting-sugar-uncovered-after-school-snack-X3 looks like.)

He was very sweet. He even stuttered. It was really hard to understand him between his thick accent and his stuttering, but he said he understood.

"We won't be able to eat those." I gestured over to the two Slurpee cups full of orangy goodness.

"oh no, that is no problem maam."

I start to walk out the door and I see him return to his bench behind the register.

I watch him for a minute. He looks up and gives me an uncomfortable sheepish grin.

I hold my gaze. My eyebrows slightly raised. For the life of him, he didn't know why I wouldn't leave.

"Aren't' you going to make that sign?" I finally ask.

He looks confused.

"The sign. The one that says it is not sugar free Cherry Apple, but full sugar Orange flavor?"

"Oh yes maam! I'll make it now."

He gets up and grabs a pen.

I walk out knowing full well that sign never got made, and sad that all my words seemed to go in one ear and out the other...

Or did they?

I guess I'll never know.

What I do know is I didn't get a Slurpee that day...and we haven't gone to get one since. My heart doesn't trust the signs anymore. I'm sure we'll be back one day, but as the leaves are changing color, and the wind is becoming brisk with fall, it looks like hot chocolate will soon trump the Slurpee anyhow.

Too bad though...that Cherry Apple was da bomb!

The D Mother of Invention...

2011-09-30T07:48:00.000-07:00

Since the school nurse makes an appearance only one morning a week at our school, I get five phone calls a day, and a text. Well...that is the way it is supposed to be anyway.

It is a brilliant plan I hatched under the guise of necessity. I'll be the boys virtual nurse! They can push the buttons. They can follow direction. I'm pretty good at SWAGing meals...seriously...it was a brilliant idea in conception.

At snack the two youngest would check their sugars and call me. At that time they would correct if need be, and I would decide what snack they would eat out of their lunch according to the number given me.

Then, before lunch, the youngest would call me. He would give me his blood sugar number...just so I know he did it. B, I trust him...he doesn't need to call me. This is also where J would text me with his lunchtime number. (J carb counts and is pretty much on his own these days. He'll get to keep his freedom as long as his meter tells me he is testing.)

THEN, after the younger boys eat, they will call me again! Tell me what they ate and I will give them carb counts based on their number before they ate, based on what they ate, and based on if it is a PE day at school/or a hot day/or a full moon. My brains calculator looks a little bit like this:

(Side note: I used to pre bolus, but they would often not eat everything, or they would trade with someone. ) (Side note to the side note: I used to not let them trade, but turns out when you are an elementary school boy...this is REALLY important. It is the exception to the rule..but it does happen when I least expect it to.)

ANYHOO...

THAT was the plan. A lot of calling, but not half bad. I just needed my cell phone velcro-ed to my ear at all times, and we were good.

But I've found the fly in the ointment. The kink in the cog. The plan foiler if you will...

They have to actually call. And in J's case, he actually has to text.

Doh!

If the littles don't call...then I have to call the office, who then calls the classroom...who then gets the child for me so I can play pancreas.

Or I can call their cell phone, which most of the time is fruitless. The business of the classroom often mutes the rings and they do not hear. And 25% of the time they forget their cell phones anyway.

They pretty much forget to call me, (this is where I was going to put a percentage of the time they forget, but shockerprisingly enough...I'm not a math genius, so let's just say it is too much.)

In reality, it is an imperfect system at best.

What I really need is my cell phone to be attached to the school intercom...

It is a good plan, right?

It is either this or two plastic cups tied together with a super long string.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I'm considering that too...

Yeah, I AM crazy! Crazy enough to consider lobbying the state of California to pitch in for the cups...

P.S. To all my email subscribers: I apologize the video I made the other day wouldn't translate to your email box. To view my last post and see my take on Simon and Garfunkel, please click HERE.

Hello exhaustion my old friend...

2011-09-28T17:09:00.000-07:00

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
www.onetruemedia.com

There are some things you need to know...

2011-09-26T09:50:00.000-07:00

A year ago I wrote a blog post called, "I want you to know something." It is one of Our Diabetic Life's most visited posts, still to this day. I feel strongly I need to add some things to the list. I feel strongly that today, there is something you need to know...

You need to know that when you check your child's blood sugar, no matter what the number...you are winning.

You need to know that the worry you keep in your heart all day long is only proof that you are a good pancreas.

You need to know that when your child lashes out against diabetes, he or she isn't lashing out against you.

You need to know that you can switch endos if your endo isn't listening or if your endo doesn't give you good advice. If your child's A1C stays in the upper stratosphere with no hope of returning to earth...you can move on. It is ok.

You need to know that your child's blood sugars will never be 100% perfect all the time.

You need to know that you are stronger than you think you are.

You need to know that on the hardest of days, the fact that you don't give up counts for more than you know.

You need to know that most people don't know what Type 1 Diabetes is. Please don't take it personally when they confuse it with Type 2.

You need to know that it is ok to cry sometimes.

You need to know that site changes are not something you are doing to hurt your child, they are something you are doing to help your child.

You need to know that your child loves you more than you think. You need to know your child doesn't blame you for all of this.

You need to know that you can't compare your child's diabetes with another child's diabetes. Everyone treats differently. Everyone's body is different.

You need to know that some children can easily acquire good A1C's, and others can't.

You need to know diabetes is hard. You are amazing for doing as much as you do, as well as you do.

You need to know that restricting portions at a carb-o-polooza buffet is something that all parents should do, not just parents of children with diabetes. Don't feel guilty when you have to say no to that third bowl of ice cream, or that second cookie.

You need to know that picking a pump, or a way to manage your child's diabetes is a very personal choice. Don't let other parents make if for you.

You need to know that it is ok to ask your husband or your family for help. It is ok to expect it.

You need to know that there are angels waiting to help, you just need to listen for their promptings.

You need to know that if today is a bad day, chances are tomorrow, or the next...it will be better.

You need to know that you need to do something for you. You are important...your needs are important too.

You need to know that there isn't a reason for everything. If there is a high blood sugar, and you can't figure out why...it is probably because they have diabetes...not something you did.

You need to know that there is a way to live this life with joy. It is up to you to find it.

You need to know that forgetting something doesn't mean you are an idiot. It means you are human and your swelly brain can't remember everything all the time.

You need to know you are loved.

You need to know I pray for you every night.

You need to know that in time...things will get better.

You need to know you are reading this for a reason. You need to know I mean every word.

You need to know that one day your child will be doing this all on their own, and you find a way to trust their decisions.

You need to know that you aren't alone in all of this. I know there are days when you FEEL alone. I know there are days when you FEEL like you fail. You are not alone...you are not failing.

You are not failing...

You are not failing...

I feel really strongly you just need to know that. You NEED to know...you are NOT failing your child. Your best is good enough. Keep moving forward.

You need to know the best is yet to come.

Laughter and Insulin...the best medicine.

2011-09-21T20:40:00.000-07:00

J: "Mom, I'm high."

Me: "J, this is the third time this week! Don't you think you are enjoying this high thing a little too much!"

J: "But it makes me feel crappy mom, and it is SOOOO fun feeling crappy!"

Real conversation that took place in Costco this summer. Were people listening in? You bet your blood ketone monitor they were! And that is ok. We gotta have fun with diabetes sometimes or we'll CRACK! Like split in half...

I'm serious.

If I didn't laugh about diabetes, I'd probably be committed to a padded cell.

There is so much REALITY with this disease, sometimes we need to take it to another place just to find our footing. Come on, we all know the consequences of high blood sugars. We all know what it is doing to our children's bodies. If we looked at that literally every time a high screamed back at us at a meter...well, we would be messes.

Wait, we are messes. All our swelly brains are messes whether we'd like to admit it or not.

Let's just say, we would be committed messes.

And the boys need some breathing room too. They need to see that random highs aren't the end of the world. A lot of sustained highs...well that is something to be taken a bit more seriously. But if it is out of left field, what are you gonna do?

Cry?

Well...ok...sometimes I cry...everyonecrysokay???

But most of the time I blow it off. We try to figure out what the culprit was to fix it for next time, but other than that we follow through with the motto 'keep calm and carry on!'

And our other motto, "You get what you get and you don't throw a fit." That comes into play too. My boys have diabetes, and diabetes means we can't keep blood sugars perfect every minute of every day.

So we laugh. And we are sarcastic. And we probably gave a couple people in Costco something to talk about around the dinner table. So what?

Milton Berle once said, "Laughter is like an instant vacation."

Who among us couldn't use a break from reality? I don't know about you, but I'm going to make an effort to laugh more. The farther I get away from the padded cell waiting for me, the better!

This is my submission for this month's DSMA Blog Carnival! It is fun to play along...go ahead and fill in the blanks yourself! "If I didn't laugh about_____then I would_____."

Conflicted.

2011-09-19T11:59:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here waiting patiently for two new Medtronic Revel Insulin Pumps to grace my front porch. And as I reflect, the heaviness of its meaning fills the room. The air is getting thinner and my shoulders are aching from the enormity of it all.

Every four years my boys get new pumps. J just celebrated 8 years on the pump. B just finished up 4 years. L is on his second pump and still has a couple years before he is due for an upgrade. All the memories of starting the pump are flooding back. The excitement, the concern, the fear of the unknown. Insulin pumps are certainly worth their weight in gold, but whether I have the courage to come to terms with it or not...they are a symbol of our diabetic life. They represent our journey...they represent our future for the next 4 years and beyond.

Diabetes is such a fickle disease. Many days I count my blessings. Many days I see the good in it all. My boys have risen to the occasion...they are amazing and I have to give diabetes credit for letting their resilience shine. But other days when my back holds the weight of barrels of rocky blood sugars...well those days, I feel in danger of buckling under the pressure. It is a vicious cycle of ups and downs. It is a weather pattern where seasons change by the day.

Don't get me wrong. I am thankful...so so very thankful to have these instruments at our disposal. I am thankful for the men and woman in the world that are brilliant enough to invent such intricate gadgets. I am thankful that my boys can bolus themselves. I am thankful for the "control" and the flexibility it brings to our lives.

Very thankful.

But sad too.

And I guess that is ok. I am a mother, and being emotional about my boys' chronic illnesses is just par for the course.

I am excited, I am sad and I am thankful. I'm sure my brain is lit up like a Christmas tree right now trying to sort it all out. It is a puzzle of emotions that will make more sense once I put them together. Unfortunately, at the moment the pieces are still scattered around the table.

But in the meantime, I'll do the breakfast dishes and hope that when my boys come home from school today their hearts will putter with excitement, and the heaviness of receiving gadgets that truly keep them alive day in and day out won't put a damper on what is honestly a very blessed occasion.

Meri's 30.

2011-09-17T08:47:00.000-07:00

This week is National Chronic Invisible Illness week and some friends of mine around the DOC, (Diabetes Online Community,) have been completing this meme. Below is my 30.

1. The illness we live with is: Type 1 Diabetes.

2. My boys were diagnosed with it in the year: 1998, 2006, 2007

3. But they had symptoms since: J had symptoms up to 2 months before, L and B were diagnosed the day we saw a hint of a symptom.

4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: Living with the worry. Living with another cog in my brain that is set to "diabetes" and is never shut off.

5. Most people assume: Most people who don't know me assume that I'm probably a nervous wreck all the time, but honestly I'm pretty normal and laid back. Unless I need to fight for something, then I am a mama bear for sure.

6. The hardest part about mornings are: Not asking my boys to check their sugar before they even get out of bed. I've read this was a pet peeve of some PWD's, so now I try to just check it for them, either before they wake, or before they get out of bed.

7. My favorite medical TV show is: I used to watch Grey's Anatomy. Now I'm pretty much over it.

8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: The meter. If those things could only be found dipped in gold and cost a thousand dollars they would be worth it. (Interestingly enough, I have the same philosophy for baby swings.)

9. The hardest part about nights are: Getting to sleep. I do some of my best worrying at night. Unfortunately.

10. Each day I take ___ pills & ___ vitamins: Nope. I don't take any. They don't take any. We stick to insulin.

11. Regarding alternative treatments I: am not a happy camper when I get spam emails from people who tout things as a cure. There is no cure for type 1 diabetes. Your special drink/diet/root won't fix my boys Pancreases.

12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: If we HAD to choose between the two, invisible is my illness of choice I suppose. My boys can go out in the world and hide diabetes if they feel inclined. And I have a feeling, there will be many days they will feel inclined.

13. Regarding working and career: I am lucky that I can spend my "career" taking care of my boys. If we depended on my income to live and pay the mortgage, we wouldn't have a house and a mortgage. There just aren't daycare providers willing to care for children with T1. And if I did find one, they would in all probability take so much of my income the job would be moot in the first place. But I have found that I LOVE to write. So who knows what my future holds.

14. People would be surprised to know: That we don't have a school nurse. All my boys have checked their own sugars since kindergarten and then called me from school for carb counts.

15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: That worry is like acid, and it usually makes things worse before you can begin healing. I need to stuff the worry and let my kids just be kids sometimes.

16. Something I never thought I could do with this illness that I did was: Send my son to scout camp/school camp/trips to family without me. But I did! They did! We did it!

17. The commercials about their illness: Are usually geared towards 70 year old type 2 diabetics.

18. Something I really miss doing since they were diagnosed is: Leaving the house on a whim and not worrying about grabbing life saving supplies.

19. It was really hard to have to give up: It wasn't hard to give anything up. I would give up the world for my boys.

20. A new hobby I have taken up since their diagnosis is: Blogging baby!! BEST. HOBBY. EVAH!

21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Send my boys to school, and then go shopping while leaving my cell phone at home.

22. My boys illness has taught me: That life gives us trials to help us grow into better, stronger more empathetic human beings.

23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: They know someone who has diabetes...and that someone is their grandmother who takes 1 pill a day and checks her sugar every wed. morning. (not that there is anything wrong with that...my father in law does the same thing...it's just that they are thinking that our life is the same...when in fact, our life is the complete opposite of that.) Even just the fact that they are trying to relate is wonderful, but what usually bothers me is they don't want to hear that they are not the same thing.

24. But I love it when people: Ask questions! OHHH! It gives me goose bumps! It feels so good to have someone really want to know, rather than me flinging information at their glossy eyes.

25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: "Peace I leave with you, peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." ~John 14:27

26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: You have been asked to run a marathon you haven't trained for. Some days the course will feel easier, and some days, no matter how seasoned you are, the mountains make for a rough run. The trick is to enjoy the scenery on the way.

27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: How resilient my boys are. Man, they can endure so much more than I would have ever given them credit for.

28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: Bring me cookies, 'cuz I am a sucker for cookies!

29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: Kerri did it, Abby did it, Reyna did it and now I am doing it. I really really think you should do it too!

30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: Like I am not alone. Thank you for that.

Me, Myself and My Gut

2011-09-13T21:03:00.000-07:00

My eyes flash open.

My stomach hurts. Something isn't right.

I check the clock: 4:00am

My first thought is the boys. Did Ryan wake to test them last night? They were swimming the night before...maybe they are tanking now...

I roll over.

"Shut up brain and go back to sleep."

10 minutes later:

My eyes flash open.

My stomach hurts. Something isn't right.

"Meri you are so dramatic. You aren't magic. You aren't waking up for a reason. You are stupid. Go back to sleep."

10 minutes later:

My eyes flash open...

"ARRRRRG!"

I slip out of bed and make my way to the station. Thankfully there is only one monitor there, so I don't have to look through three different histories to see if Ryan tested.

There they are! He tested, no one was low or especially high.

"THEY ARE FINE!! Told you stupid!"

It takes awhile but I'm back into an unsettling sleep. I toss and turn but pretend I'm in deep sleep anyway.

But then: My eyes flash open.

My stomach hurts. Something isn't right.

I look to the clock: How is it only 20 minutes later?

I give up. "Uncle!"

I quietly tip toe out of the room to check on the boys. I slip into the doorway of J's room and wait. I don't hear anything so I take a couple steps closer and finally hear the steady sound of his breaths.

"He's alive stupid."

Next to L's and B's room. B is stirring, nice! L has his blanket over his head. NOT NICE! I walk closer and L suddenly whisks his blanket away, only to startle the both of us and cause me nearly to lose my dinner from the night before.

He smiles widely, "I'm up early mom!"

"Try to go back to sleep sweetheart."

"Ok!" He whisks his blanket over his head again and I walk out.

I sit on the couch contemplating the feeling so deep in my gut I can't deny. Where is this coming from? Should I test their sugars?

"They are alive stupid. Go take a shower."

And I do.

I come out of room to a still house and glide quietly the best I can to the kitchen. There I find J rustling through the fridge.

"What are you doing up? What is going on?"

"Oh, I need insulin. My stomach hurts so bad it woke me up. I guess my pump ran out of insulin sometime last night. I'm 389."

Ketones 2.8.

Throw up.

Extra bolus.

Water.

Extra bolus.

Extra bolus.

Ketones 0.3.

He is ok.

There is no denying that we as mothers of children with diabetes have a sort of 6th sense that lingers within our swelly brains.

I've read story after story of mothers following their intuition and finding a low that would have otherwise been missed. The moral of THIS story, and what I hope sticks with you...is that those feelings are given to us for a reason. They are not to be doubted.

I spent so many years taking my worry to the next level and being dramatic about everything. Growing older and wiser along with my life experiences have taught me that usually...everything is ok. Looking back, most of the drama just wasn't warranted. So I've moved to this place of...I don't want to say complacency...more of a place of Laidback-ness. A place that keeps me from doing things I would have years ago. Unfortunately, I have gotten so comfortable here that I second guess the times when my gut sets off those flashing red alarms. When the alarm goes off I wonder, am I just being dramatic...or is there more? Is this alarm real? Are the angels waking me, or was that Italian food last night just making me restless?

I'm like a trash compactor when it comes to worry these days...I'm really good at stuffing it to my toes. So when the unrelenting alarms go off I always fight an inner battle. Should I Stuff it or should I act on it? A battle for the ages. A battle that isn't worth fighting when your gut is screaming at you at four in the morning.

So let me tell you...

Next time my eyes flash open and my gut starts screaming to me that something isn't right...I am going to listen, and I will check the boys blood sugars and their pumps. We are complicated human beings. I strongly believe that we are spiritual beings as well. There is a reason the alarms go off.

We must listen.

I can't explain it...I just know it...

Deep down in my gut, I know it.

Yeah, that's a new one.

2011-09-11T21:00:00.000-07:00

He nudged me pretty hard.

"Please?" He asks.

"umhum," I hum almost inaudibly.

He has been doing most of the nighttime checks lately and I've been encouraging him to wake me to help out.

I would do them...I just don't wake up for the alarm anymore. Alarm fatigue. I suppose, after so many years my body decided it wasn't going to put up with it anymore. My husband sets the alarm to a local music station and has it turned ALL the way up. The music BLARES, like scare the crap out of you blares, and I don't even budge.

Hence the nudging.

I skirted out of bed catching myself from buckling under my exhaustedness and made my way slowly to the blood sugar station with my arms slightly lifted and my hands flat to the ground for balance. I got the meter ready, grabbed a vial of strips and headed into the boys room...

"Why am I walking with one eye closed?" I think to myself, "you won't be blinded if you open the other one, Meri."

So I do, and my eyes adjust.

The soft beam of light filters into the boys' room and allows me just enough illumination to find B's finger and poke.

82.

"Crap."

As I move a couple feet to my right to make sure I'm reading the meter correctly I see B out the corner of my eye turn his pump light on.

"Oh great, I woke him...poor guy is probably seeing what time it is."

And then he mumbles something to himself and I see more clearly what is happening...

HE IS BOLUSING.

SLEEP BOLUSING???

What the what???!!!!

He was entering a blood sugar number and was at 327 by the time I stopped him.

I sat on the edge of his bed panicking on the inside and slowly, calmly rubbing his hair on the outside.

My mind raced. What if? What if I didn't catch it.

I waited a good 5 minutes to make sure he was back in a deep sleep and slipped his pump back into his Spibelt and zipped it tight.

L: 198

J: 157

I return to B's bedside to give him some juice and then watch him for awhile. He was so still...so peaceful. Will he try again? Should I lock his pump? No. No, he will be ok. I pat myself on the back for making the decision not to crawl into bed with him and make my way back to my room.

More often than not with this disease we have to take that leap of faith that everything is just going to be ok.

Regardless though, you gotta give diabetes props...it can throw a mean curveball.

Shockaprising!

2011-09-08T22:15:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week my status on facebook read: L just called. "I'm 69. I know mom, shockerprising!" That is his new word this month...and I LOOOOOOVE it!

Two days later I was schooled by my boys, telling me it isn't "shockerprising" it is "shockAprising!"

I totally feel like one of those old people who is trying to be hip, who say things wrong. Like when my mom said "off the hanger," instead of "off the hook."

Regardless, shockaprising has been the best thing since sliced bread around here. (HELLO! OLDNESS! Who says that saying anymore???)

Instead of L silently checking his sugar, and picking out his own appropriate snack before I can confer...he will now announce every low as he is testing, with "Shockaprising!"

It is such a relief for me to be able to step in to see HOW low he is, and in turn help him pick the best possible snack for the situation.

The only ramification of all of this, is that "shockaprising" stays in my head like a catchy song, ALL. DAY. LONG.

It is my first reaction to everything...in my head anyway.

I'm not sure why it is, but it is just fun to say. You have to say it with gusto when you do. Seriously...like your shocked...almost like you are fake shocked. (Gusto...what am I, 80?)

Luckily I have a son that is willing to play along with his mom. He agreed to a reenactment. Please find it below...

Funniest part: When I asked him to reenact for me, he really WAS low!

Shockaprising!

A1C from A to Z

2011-09-06T02:00:00.000-07:00

Ask yourself, "does this number define my worth?"

Be mindful that this number shows where you were, not where you are today.

Cast out the feelings of guilt and ineptitude.

Don't give up on yourself.

Every number is a springboard to another. Use this number to help you get where you want to be...or to motivate you to stay where you want to be.

Forget the highs from last month. That is over. Today is a new day.

Give yourself credit where credit is due.

Have a heart to heart with your doctor. You are a team.

Invite friends to support you. Invite them to learn about diabetes...invite them to cheer you on!

Just keep swimming.

Keep some records. Writing things down help you see the big picture.

Let someone help you. You don't have to do this alone.

Motivate yourself by reading blogs in the community. Knowing you are not alone is huge!

Never say never. Anything can happen. This disease is unpredictable. Expect the unexpected.

Open your mind to new technologies.

Pray. If you don't pray, ponder.

Question your doctor. Ask why. Ask how. Ask when.

Remember that no one is perfect. Perfection does not exist with diabetes.

Start with small changes. Big changes in routine set yourself up for failure.

Talk about it. Holding feelings of inadequacy in makes it harder on you and makes it harder on those who want to support you.

Understand that getting nights right is half the battle. Start there.

Value your knowledge. You have learned a lot. Do not cut yourself short.

Wait for results. It takes time to see the fruits of your labors.

Xpect numbers to fluctuate. Life isn't linear.

You are doing better than you think you are.

Zebra. Because not everything should be about diabetes.

I forgot.

2011-08-31T21:40:00.000-07:00

The other night when I was wallowing in the cocoon of pity, I was so wrapped up in the wings of my despair, that I forgot...

I forgot that out in the world there were thousands...millions...of dots of light. Each dot representing other parents walking the halls of their own homes, administering the nighttime check.

I felt so alone.

Really though, I wasn't alone.

I forgot of the other PWD who were (hopefully) sleeping peacefully waiting for their alarms to wake them for their own checks. I also forgot about their spouses who stir in the bed and wait breathlessly to hear their spouse stir too.

I forgot that one number does not make or break my child's future, that my boys will have high numbers because, hello...they have diabetes.

I forgot that there is a greater force. One that trumps the helpless feelings that consume the night.

I forgot that I can't do better than my best. There is no perfection in diabetes...so my sorrow in the unattainable is moot.

I forgot that I am blessed with amazing, resilient children.

I forgot to count my blessings before counting myself out.

I forgot that in the darkness the corners of the bigger picture are hidden.

I forgot to pray.

Most days I feel so strong! Most days I take this Diabetic Life in stride. But I am human. No super human impenetrable brain of steel here.

We all have to break down sometime. It proves our humanity.

More than anything though, I think the most important thing I forgot is that my boys are ok.

It is all going to be ok.

Finding my fight at midnight.

2011-08-30T00:15:00.000-07:00

The nighttime can be so cruel.

Devoid of light, my soul anguishes in my ineptitude.

Seeing two 400's staring back at me tonight didn't help things. In fact it began a tailspin that even I am worried I won't recover from.

In this nighttime all my hope is drowned away in pools of tears in my hands. All my positivity is enveloped in the black hole of my pity.

How is it ok that I am so completely responsible for my boys well being?

How is it ok that it is all on my shoulders?

Is this a cruel joke? Will my best ever be good enough?

When my boys are adults will I be able to look them in the eye and say, I really truly did my best?

How does the night strangle away all my victories?

Why do I only see the defeats?

What is it about the darkness that makes all my mistakes magnify a 100 times over?

At this moment all I can say is it isn't fair.

They are so beautiful. It isn't fair.

damn it. It isn't fair.

I hate the night. I desperately need the light of the new day. I need a new beginning.

Nothing good can come of this overwhelming darkness. I feel prisoner to the feelings of despair and grief.

I need to break out of here.

I can't let the darkness win.

I can't let the darkness make me feel hopeless.

I can't give up.

...

I'm going to stop crying now. I am going to stop and I am going to move forward. I will persevere and I will not give up...

Even though the darkness tells me to.

I WILL not give up.

I will NOT give up.

I can do this.

I will bring these 400's to their knees and I will fight every number for as long as my boys let me.

I don't know if I'm just too stubborn, or if I'm too stupid, but I am stronger than this. I feel my fight coming back.

I WILL NOT give up.

Tomorrow the sun will rise and the darkness will lose.

Tomorrow is a new day.

One day at a time.

Thank you Laura for your saying, "keep calm and carry on." That is what I will do right this minute.

Giving into the darkness is not an option.

There is no victory in my pity. Circumstances aren't likely to change anytime soon.

I don't know the reason.

I don't care that it isn't fair.

I will keep swimming,

And I'll say a prayer that tomorrow the light will be so bright, my soul will be hard pressed to absorb all the hope it will bring along with it.

The battle.

2011-08-29T12:51:00.001-07:00

This last weekend ushered in the back to school sickies. B and J have sore throats, and L has a head cold. It is one of those situations that brings on the inner battle between my swelly brain and my fragile heart.

Today you get a behind the scenes look at the action!

"Hey Meri, the boys are so sick. Maybe you should let them stay home from school today."

"Ummm...Meri...have you forgotten that L's blood sugar number pattern was reminiscent of the skyline of the Rockies yesterday..."

"Just call the school...right now. Let them sleep in."

"They are so flipping cute...you need to keep them home and cuddle them and love them and make them soup."

"Why doesn't anyone listen to me! Protect them from the elements! It might hit 80 degrees today! Keep them home!"

"It's like I'm not even here. The swelly brain gets all the attention."

Yeah, the brain won out today. But tomorrow is a new day, and a new battle. If I had to put my money on one of them tomorrow...I think I would double down on the heart.

Now is the time for us to stand up and be heard!

2011-08-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

Take 10 minutes out of your busy schedule and watch this video. I cannot tell you how important this is. There is a UN Summit taking place next month and Diabetes will be a big part of the discussions on the table. Leaders from around the world will be discussing an action plan, and debate if they should make a goal to decrease deaths from noncommunicable diseases by 25% by 2025. (Personally, I don't know what they are debating...my first instinct is to say, heck yeah! But some countries don't think it can be done. I for one feel that the world can accomplish anything it sets its mind to. They just have to try.) If ever you have thought to take action...the time is now. We need to be heard. Something needs to be done. We can't let the world sleepwalk any longer. They need to know that there are too many deaths, too much suffering because of this disease. Watch this interview and then consider what you can do to bring attention to this ground breaking summit.

If you live in NY, or near to NY, here is an event you can attend to bring much needed publicity to the summit...

http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=242368832453916

Scaling the Back to School Alps

2011-08-22T06:41:00.000-07:00

I'm scaling the Back to School Alps and it has occurred to me that I'm tired of taking this trek.

Even though my muscles seem stronger, and this year's hike will seem easier than last years, it still is laborious...and not even a little bit fun to think about.

To start off...I miss my boys. I know that is lame. But they are the reason I smile.

Secondly, when you've taken the same hike over and over and over again...the beauty is lost on you.

The same scenery is lackluster at best.

Oh lookie there...it is the "beginning of the school year lows"...yay.

And over that hill is the classic "forgot to call you with my blood sugar."

Three miles up is where they are "too excited to eat their lunch, so they just eat the cookie Tommy gave them."

"TOMMY!!" (Said in the same voice Seinfeld said 'NEWMAN!!')

Scurrying over there is the elusive "forgetting to bolus for breakfast."

Been there. Done that.

And then the worst part of the hike..."the lake of low self esteem, and worry of what others think of my pancreating."

I've been pushed into that water more times than I want to count.

Boring.

I feel like it is groundhog day and I will live the same scenarios over and over and over again.

Man, just call me Debbie Downer. :(

The back to school blues get to me every year. The start of the hike is always the worst. I know the mistakes that lay in the horizon. I know the guilt that is to come.

I am a seasoned hiker now...but no matter how great I navigate the course...no matter how nimble I am in scaling the obstacles...I just wish the course was flat.

I wish the terrain wasn't as rocky.

I wish it was easy.

But somewhere deep down in the recesses of my soul...somewhere I can't place...somewhere...I know that this course makes me a better person. I know that this course is going to mold my boys into the park rangers of their diabetes landscapes. This course will teach me patience. It will teach me to be humble and compassionate.

As much as I don't want to hike up the mountain of back to school...I will. Because as much as I hate to admit it...it will make me and my sons stronger.

The fiber of my boys character will be strengthened by these trials, I honestly believe this to be true.

My backpack is heavy with survival skills. My soul is heavy with determination.

So here I go.

And as I set off, I leave you all with this Irish Blessing...a blessing I hope you keep in your hearts as you begin your own trek up the mountain...

“May your joys be as bright as the morning, and your sorrows merely be shadows that fade in the sunlight of love. May you have enough happiness to keep you sweet, enough trials to keep you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, and enough hope to keep you happy."

Half eaten bowl of cereal? Or brain exploder?

2011-08-18T10:05:00.000-07:00

Let me give you some insight as to why my brain is swelly.

Exhibit A: A cereal bowl, half full of milk and bits of cereal.

Practically every mother in America doesn't give that a second thought.

Me?

I give it a second thought. And a third one, a fourth one...and maybe even a tenth one.

Yesterday was the first day of school. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was excitement, but neither B nor L finished more than half their cereal.

And to top it off...they used bowls we have never used before.

Using new bowls on the first day of school?

How am I supposed to SWAG that?

They are not as wide...but they are a little deeper. The circumference of the circle...why am I even trying to figure this out...I AM A GEOMETRY LOSER!

Swelling. Swelling, and more swelling.

On top of that, B asked me how much insulin. Me...assuming that he had eaten his entire bowl, gave him an amount. When I went back later, my heart stopped.

"Who's bowls are these?!!" (That was me yelling with my eyes practically popping out of my head.)

The boys filed in.

J: "Not mine. I ate all mine."

L: "That one is mine but I told you I couldn't eat it all."

B: "That one is mine, why?"

Me: "Why??? Why???? When you asked for a carb count you failed to mention to me that you didn't eat it all. Don't you think that is important? Don't you think getting more insulin than you are supposed to is a big deal? What if you had already left for school?"

B: "Yeah. I guess that is kinda important."

So he ate a banana to make it up.

Who knew one half eaten bowl of cereal could cause such angst in a mothers heart?

Or was it half? The bowl is narrower at the bottom. How am I supposed to eyeball that????

Diabetes is diabetes. I know it is hard and emotional, and a pain in the arse.

But it the little things that tip me over the edge.

Constant little things.

I guess I have to ask myself, "is the bowl half empty, or half full?"

After some thought, my answer is: Does it really matter? The bowl, and whatever its contents, are poop disturbers. Period.

It is as simple, or as complicated, as that!

Proof I don't know everything.

2011-08-16T09:10:00.000-07:00

Last week L had his last swimming lesson of the Summer Season. It was one of those crazy days...I don't remember all the details, but we were in a rush and I had to bring B along too. I had L check his sugar in the car on the way to the pool and a 119 popped up.

119 isn't really an ideal number...but for some reason, on that day...my head said, "Alrighty then! Let's swim!" Probably because his sugars have been running high the past couple weeks, and lows have been scarce if not non-existent.

We were late to the lesson and L ran ahead of me, smiling and spunky as usual. We walked in just as he was jumping into the pool...his teacher had him dunk his head and he did it with ease.

And then his teacher said, "Let's start with freestyle," and that is when it went all downhill.

He said, "But I can't do freestyle. I can't swim."

Both his teacher and I were taken aback, 'cause, yes he can.

The next 20 minutes were horrifying to watch. It was like he never had any lessons at all. He would jump off the step and flail and frantically grab for his teacher. My feelings were torn between terrifying fear and rising anger. These private lessons are expensive. This is the last summer lesson, what is he doing?? My jaw sat agape and my body sat stunned and frozen. I didn't know what to think.

I called from the side, "L, you need to listen to your teacher. You can swim, we all know you can. Just do your best, you will be fine."

Yeah, that didn't help.

He continued to flop in, freak out, and then begin to panic. Then his tears started and it was like I was hit on the side of my head with a bag full of rocks..."Could he be low??"

I stopped the lesson and brought him to the side. He was 52.

There was only 10 minutes left of the lesson and I knew I couldn't get him up enough to swim safely, so we said our goodbyes.

I kept playing the scene again and again in my mind. I knew blood sugars caused you to have no energy. I knew they caused you to be shaky. But paranoia? Could it be that the low caused him to forget he could swim?

I went home that night and messaged a few amazing type 1 woman. I pleaded with them to shed some light on the manic scene I had witnessed with L. Could his behavior been caused by the low?

Turns out yes. Absolutely.

One of these woman confided in me that Lows make her feel helpless. That she can't get her body to do what she wants it to do. Another let me know that she does get paranoia with lows, and even feels like everyone hates her and she is a loser. Much like a panic attack. One of them has had dreams full of paranoia.

It came to me that lows can heighten your insecurities. L is insecure in his swimming. He is scared of the water...and no matter how much progress we have made...that low made him go back to that place that told him it wasn't safe anymore.

I'm not sure I can put into words the sadness I have that I didn't pick up on the sugar nose dive earlier that day. I feel like I let him down. I let him suffer in that water for 20 minutes before I pulled him out. I know that I didn't know...but I should have known better. Because as my friend Reyna says, "If you know better, you do better."

I am humbled. I never thought I knew everything...but I thought I had a small grip on it all. This instance made me realize I will never know all the dark corners of this disease. There are always more surprises.

And now I won't be so bowled over. I have learned a valuable lesson. Don't get too comfortable.

I stand ready.

Bring it.

(P.S. L's teacher has agreed to 4 more lessons. I spoke to L and he seems to agree that those feelings came from the low. I feel strongly he needs to get back up on that horse. I can't let that last session be what he remembers from swimming...he needs to get his confidence back. I know he can do it!)

The invader.

2011-08-12T09:45:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how he got in. I'm not even sure when. But the man in black entered our house 13 years ago this week.

My skin crawls thinking about how he hid here, unnoticed for so long. I can imagine his joyful snicker, and the slits in his eyes widening just enough to see the damage he was doing to my baby.

Was it pre-calculated? Was he planning his assault for months? How did he choose my son?

I'll probably never know.

All I know is he liked it here. Because he has lived in the dark recesses of our home for lo these many years, and has found a way to attack two more of my boys. Attack in a silent, devastating, life threatening kinda way.

He has done everything he can to make my boys miserable. He lies in wait...picking the most inopportune times to make my boys go weak in the knees...to turn them ashen white...to make them desperate for a snack.

He can make them thirst. Seriously, who does that? He has a sick sense of humor for sure.

We let him wreak havoc for years. He had control...he was sneaky enough to take my brain and swell it up to astronomical proportions.

For a while, I forgot what was important.

For a while, all I could think about was the man in the shadows. My distain for him. My fear that he would jump out again and attack.

------------------------------------------------------

My plan for revenge came slowly. It was a seed planted by the light in my children's eyes.

One day my son's blood sugar was impossibly high and I smiled and said, "It is what it is...let's just fix it."

The dark shadow of a man cringed at my indifference. I heard him jerk deep into the shadows. He didn't like that I was becoming comfortable.

That moment was exhilarating, and it became my greatest joy to make him shirk.

Over time I could feel that I had the upper hand. I had the power to make HIM tremble in his boots. I wouldn't let him scare me anymore. His scare tactics were old. I could head them off with my outlook. I could defend myself with hope.

The man still lives here, and some days he tries to jump into hearts and cause panic. But most days he just whimpers with his miserableness. Most days he is lonely.

His power is limited now. I will not cower in fear. I will not let him take the air from the breath of our life.

Today...thirteen years after his appearance...The Diabetes Invader can suck it.

We love, despite his presence.

We hope, despite his presence.

We try...we endure...we succeed...

Despite his presence.

Diabetes may have a score of three with the Schuhmacher family...but we trump his score with our hope.

And I call that a win.

In fact, this is more how I see our relationship now...

From little things to big things.

2011-08-11T02:00:00.000-07:00

(The blue candles on Facebook fuel the embers of anger I have for this disease. My thoughts are turned to the families that are hurting, and to the new families whose lives were turned upside down today. As I tried to navigate the hurt, I found myself drawn to my keyboard, to pay homage to those that mark today as their Diagnosis Day.)

Traveling through time.

The view is bright...the seasons fly.

Family is growing.

Your mind is on the little things.

Like keeping your child happy...

And school clothes. What is for lunch? There is construction/traffic on the 101.

Suddenly there is a tapping in the back of your head.

Something isn't right.

Your child constantly thirsts. Your child does not seem right...somehow.

But you need to buy school clothes. You need to go to the grocery store.

You need to find a detour away from the 101.

"Mom, I'm thirsty."

Your heart tugs. Your mind twists and turns.

It is summer after all. You are imagining things.

You aren't a big fan of drama. You question why you are creating it in your head.

And then you see your child doing something simple,

like brushing teeth...or making their bed...

and you see it.

Your child is so skinny.

Your child looks sick.

Your child has no energy.

Something is very wrong.

And suddenly...they are throwing up.

They are breathing deeply...gasping almost...so sweet...so wrong.

What is happening?

You are scared.

Your child is so scared.

And then to the hospital.

And then to be admitted.

And then for the veil to be lifted...

And nothing is the same. The world changes color.

Your child really doesn't need school clothes anymore. Your child always had enough.

There is plenty of food in the pantry.

You don't need to take the highway...the back roads are better for reflection anyway.

Diagnosis day.

Life picks you up and delivers you to your new course.

The new scenery is terrifying.

The new language is a puzzle.

And your child...

Your beautiful child is transformed.

It is as if they are magically donning shining armor.

The nobility...the bravery...the selflessness of a child with Diabetes.

The Diabetes kaleidoscope takes over your view.

Life is full of color and confusion.

But it is intensely beautiful too.

Traveling through time.

The view is bright...the seasons fly.

The family is growing.

Your mind is on the big things.

Like keeping your child alive...

Disciplining and Diabetes.

2011-08-09T02:00:00.000-07:00

It is the elephant in the room. It is what every mother of a child with type 1 diabetes dreads. How can we discipline our children when they have such a burden to bear? How can we discipline a child who is high or low...especially when that high or low was from boluses that came from our very own hands?

Don't they deserve some mercy? Their gene pool didn't give them any, the world isn't giving them any...

Isn't it my job as a mother to give them a break?

How can I discipline a child who bears the world of this 24 hour disease on their little shoulders. A child who single handedly captures my heart as he smiles through tears during a set change? The child that already suffers, and struggles, and needs my support and love more than anything in this world?

This is how...

I want you to think about the people you know in your life. People you KNOW. People you have met, who you have spent time with...people throughout your life that somewhere in the attic of your brain, you have filed away relationships with.

Now...what percentage of these people have problems?

I hope you said 100%. Because if you didn't, then maybe you don't know these people as well as you think you do. Or maybe you have kidded yourself into thinking that other people, who do not have disease, have perfect lives.

Everyone has problems. Their problems can be intricate, they can be simple, they can be heartbreaking, they can be terrifying, they can be hidden...more problems are hidden than are not.

Now think of your children. Do you think that life is only going to hand them problems that relate directly to diabetes? Can we say that our children's hand has been dealt? That they stood in line and received the burden of diabetes and they are free to forget everything else?

Unfortunately, I can answer that one for you with a definitive no.

Is it fair?

As a mother, I would have to say no.

But life has a way of moving on no matter what your disease. No matter what our ailment. No matter what is fair.

Life continues...and the burdens of life are like the smoke of a fire. It gloms into the pours of our souls and can't be washed away with emotion...or fairness.

Our children must be prepared to live as adults in this world of drama and confusion.

They will be handed more problems to solve.

They need to learn how to work with people who are rude.

They need to learn how to take care of their bodies and their surroundings.

Even though they have diabetes, they still need to know how to make their bed and put the dishes in the sink.

Our children need to grow up and learn the same lessons everyone does. They need to know that it isn't ok to hit their brother, or it isn't ok to scream and have a tantrum when they are no longer a toddler.

I've struggled with this issue for years...because I'm not a callous human being. I love my bundle of joys more than my own life. Punishing them is the LAST thing I want to do.

But I made a mental list of rules...and my children know that no matter how cruddy they feel...some things are just not ok.

I feel strongly it is our responsibility as parents not only to raise responsible diabetics, but responsible adults that don't feel like they are owed anything.

Because the world doesn't give a yankee doodle dandy that our children have diabetes.

So when I punish, (which honestly doesn't consist of more than timeouts and privileges taken away,) even though it hurts me as much as it hurts them, (or more,)...I KNOW...I am doing the right thing. I know that I would have given them a time out if they didn't have diabetes...so why wouldn't they deserve one even with diabetes?

Maybe, because of diabetes, I'm kinder about it all. If I believe it has anything to do with their blood sugar numbers I give them a hug first. I let them know, that I know, they aren't feeling well. I give them insulin, or food...or water...and then I leave them in their time out. Because it isn't ok to turn your anger onto the people around you. It isn't ok to take your stomach ache out on your brothers.

I'm not pretending that I have it all figured out...I've made my share of mistakes.

Hand to heaven...I fail a lot, or at least I feel like I do.

But it is the question I get asked the most.

And my answer always is...if your child is acting in a way that is not acceptable...than it isn't acceptable. Even if his or her sugar is whacked out. Sure, they are allowed to be grumpy. Sure, they are allowed to vocalize the miserableness of this disease...but there are lines that you need to draw. And when you do, you can't feel like you are adding more weight to your child's shoulders.

Because in fact, you are taking the weight away. As adults they will thank you for allowing them to feel...but at the same time, not allowing them to walk all over you.

I've had to dethrone the king before. It is not easy...not even a little. But if your prince or princess has taken over the palace...and they are no longer a toddler...it is time.

It isn't your fault they have diabetes.

It isn't your fault.

It isn't your fault.

No, it isn't their fault either, but setting limits is ok.

You will find one day, that it is the kinder thing to do.

Crossing party lines.

2011-08-02T02:00:00.000-07:00

I am a Diabeticrat. Or maybe a Diapublican.

Let's just say: I belong to the Diabetic Party.

If it doesn't relate to my agenda...I really don't give a rats bahookie.

I'm embedded in my world and if it effects my children, it effects me. And then I care.

That is how moms roll. Well...how this mom rolls anyway.

I know that there will come a time when I will widen my scope, and care about the recycling problem in our city, and the litter problem in the next...but right now...my children's most immediate needs are what is important.

Mess with them, and you mess with me.

Misunderstand their disease, and expect to be educated by me.

I'm walking through a diabetes swamp...and all I care about is keeping my children on higher ground. The issues that face my Diabetic Party direct my course.

My party objectives:

Keep my children alive.

Educate others.

Advocate for a future free of discrimination.

Further research and technological advances with financial and moral support.

Support all that are effected by our cause.

Hope. Endure. Try. Love.

Keep the faith.

That is where I am.

But this weekend I had an experience that knocked me into the world of another party completely. And for better or worse...the blinders were taken off.

This weekend I spent time with my best friends from my childhood. From age 5 to age 13 I spent most of my waking hours by the side of these sisters. Their mother was a second mother to me. She taught me so many lessons...the most important being: stand by what I think. She taught me my voice means something. I'll forever thank her for that.

My friends' mother...my second mother...died of Alzheimer's Disease a few years ago. She was too young, only in her 50's.

I'm sorry to say that until this weekend, I really didn't know what Alzheimer's really was. What caused it. What affect it had on the families...the caregivers...the people themselves. I had no idea how or why people could pass away from Alzheimer's.

It wasn't on my parties agenda...so I just didn't know.

Now I know.

Their party...the Alzheimer's Party...it is so much like my party it is very hard to discern between the two.

They have the very same objectives as my party.

And after hours of educating conversations between both their party brains and mine...lines became blurred. My intense focus widened. Kinda like I was driving in the dead of night and finally realized how to turn the brights on.

And it became clear to me for the first time...that I am not part of this elusive political sect after all...

I am part of a bigger picture.

The Human Party.

We are all human...and we should care about each other and the heartaches that we carry whether they be the same or completely different. Because even though the diseases we advocate for can be very different...in an eerie way...they really really are not.

We have all had friends drop out of our lives because they couldn't take the heat of this disease. We all have family that don't understand the roots of what we are fighting for. We all know that the world doesn't understand our heartache fully.

But what we sometimes don't know...or what we sometimes forget...is that there are others.

Others fighting their own war. Others hurting just as much as us.

I am guilty of this tunnel vision...I am so self righteous in my knowledge that Diabetes is HARD.

But you know what?

Alzheimer's is HARD.

Cancer is HARD.

Crohn's Disease is HARD.

Autism is HARD.

Cerebral Palsy is HARD.

Bagillions of others diseases and conditions are HARD.

Being human...suffering disease and loss is HARD.

I think it is ok to fight for our party. But I also think it is ok to cross party lines.

Because sometimes the most human...the most patriotic thing we can do...is put our arm around another human being and say..."I see that you are hurting. I'm so sorry. How can I help?"

I truly believe we will become a stronger party in doing so. Whatever your battle. Whatever your disease. Whatever your condition.

Right now, I have enough.

2011-07-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

"On July 27 1921 two Canadian scientists at the University of Toronto,
Frederick Banting and Charles Best, successfully isolate insulin--a
hormone they believe could prevent diabetes--for the first time.
Within a year, the first human sufferers of diabetes were receiving
insulin treatments, and countless lives were saved from what was
previously regarded as a fatal disease. Diabetes has been recognized
as a distinct medical condition for more than 3,000 years, but its
exact cause was a mystery until the 20th century. At that time, the
only way to treat the fatal disease was through a diet low in
carbohydrates and sugar and high in fat and protein. Instead of dying
shortly after diagnosis, this diet allowed diabetics to live--for
about a year. A breakthrough came at the University of Toronto in the
summer of 1921, when Banting and Best successfully isolated insulin
from canine test subjects, produced diabetic symptoms in the animals,
and then began a program of insulin injections that returned the dogs
to normalcy. On November 14, the discovery was announced to the world.
On January 23, 1921, they began treating 14-year-old Leonard Thompson
with insulin injections. The diabetic teenager improved dramatically,
and the University of Toronto immediately gave pharmaceutical
companies license to produce insulin, free of royalties. By 1923,
insulin had become widely available, and the scientists were awarded
the Nobel Prize in medicine." ~ History.com

Today I want to say thank you to Banting and Best. I owe you a debt of gratitude deeper than the Precipices of the Grand Canyon.

Because of you...my boys can live.

Because of you...my boys can see, walk, laugh, and play.

Because of you...my boys can learn and go to school.

Because of you...my boys can jump and play sports. They can run and play with their friends.

Because of you...I count carbs...and take for granted daily how lucky I am to do so.

Because of you...I insert needles into my boys and don't even blink an eye, because I know it saves their life every time I do.

Because of you...we don't live in a hospital.

I take it all for granted. I think, "Where is the cure?" I think, "Why is this so hard?" I think, "My boys deserve better!"

But today, through these tears of thankfulness, I don't think those things at all.

Today I think, "It has been 90 years, why can't everyone afford and have access to insulin?" I think, "Why must families watch their child die because insulin is not available?" I think, "Even in the USA there are families struggling to keep insulin in the fridge."

I think, "Why is my family so blessed?"

Yes we have three boys who have Type 1 Diabetes. But I have a cabinet in my house that looks like this:

And I have insulin in my fridge...so much I almost cannot contain it:

Sure it is all just a few months in supplies...and sure, that is a sad thing in itself, but I feel overwhelmingly grateful that we have these advances.

YES, a cure would be nice...but in the meantime, I'm going to work on looking at what I have, rather than what I don't.

Because as it turns out...right now, what I have is more than enough.