I wasn't exaggerating, the kid needs to eat EVERY TWO HOURS. Luckily for overdosed insulin, we're cutting back to 15g per unit, instead of our usual ten. I suppose it's to be expected during these first few typical weeks, just when numbers were hitting 100, mix it all up once again.
I don't trust a damned twisted increment of it, though. How can you drop a whole five, and not just a mere three. "She wants to keep it simple," both my husband and doctor professed. As if dividing by 13 were impossible, back to the spikes and the drops this wife says.
Many valuable message boards exist to serve the affected-by-diabetes crowd. Greetings most often consist of an initiatory "I'm sorry you're here in the first place," then "we've been in your shoes," followed by "our vast knowledge will help you."
Which is comforting once you get beyond that initial insult (if they're disappointed, does that mean I should be too?)
I tried that for part of today, separating the curse from the gift, and wallowing in the former. Not a huge fan, and I'm over it. Looking back at my past week-and-a-half, I was glad to have reason to leap out of bed, to test for that blood sugar, and approach breakfast with balance in my head.
Fruits with every serving, even for this mother is something new, eventually we'll graduate to vegetables. The challenging excitement of narrowing down 15g carbohydrate snacks.
Here's my list of 5 FAVES:
Fiber One yogurt (lime and strawberry) 19g carbs but 5 grams of fiber (= 16.5g total snackilicious flavor, + 4g protein)
I'm becoming the sort of person who doesn't like to leave her home. Simply no refrigerators small enough to carry! How annoying, didn't expect this handicapping inconvenience to overcome me. Though tomorrow's another day and I won't have to leave for a dumb doctor's appointment.
She wasn't actually a doctor though, she was a nurse. And she wasn't really that dumb, in fact she was brilliant. Yup, we immediately hit it off, has a daughter diagnosed at ten. It's amazing the people you meet with this job, she totally wants me to start and lead a support group!
Thank god for my rational husband! Getting all kissy and lovey-dovey on me as if life's just plain normal. And it is, I'm remembering, we've been through this before (we homeschool). Life's just a journey, some parts more challenging, but our love's still alive, we're simply eating better now.
I'm dealing with it. Like Sarah noticed, we're one week in and already developing a sense of repentance. Oh, haven't you heard? Diabetics never reach acceptance, at least that's my conclusion after all the blog titles I'm seeing.
Yes that's right, life was "free" before diagnosis, happened at "six" some others remember. Go ahead, take a peek in my pantry (it's right there on my sidebar)...either the community's lacking support and strong guidance. Or I'm just left of the curve, time can't empower me anymore.
Oh, I'm not a fool. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner still are my guidelines. But as for the "when I was well" as opposed to heading for drama. Not to belittle, blood vessels take trauma. And don't make me bring up heart attack risk here, I will when I'm ready.
Coin word people, c'mon I know what we're thinking. It's not just a cure we're looking for, no, demanding. We'll keep the nutritious diet, hell yes we'll promote it, just let us be diabetic-free.
This weekend I conquered "the bridge", that silly little divider standing between pre-diagnosis and post. It was all an illusion anyway, pretending that life prior had been taken for granted, when really, it was spent in deep celebration of all we had.
I mean have. It relieved me of my judgements, those I planned on placing upon you, the ones that had probably been placed upon me, by those with destinies unaccepted. I embrace all of my life.
Sure, it's mildly inconvenient to care so much about health now. Where will I be heading, armed with carb-hatred, ahem, insulin reluctance. Oh pancreas, gland denying us your hormones, and yet you feign some balance, interconnectedness with the whole?
It's not that I don't believe you, sitting there all comfy and tucked in. Just that I'd always thought you knew antibodies from normal. I still forgive you for giving in.
Besides my positive mental attitude, which I've strived hard to attain, I am devastated and my heart's broken in two. I ward it off most of the time, it's not just the shots, new habits, and numeratic uncertainty...it's the plain unfairness that it happened to Taylor, not you.
I've broken a dish or two, I'll admit it. Nobody was hurt, my wrath quickly forgiven, but nothing about this seems fair, that thought's allowed. A teeny-tiny window of possibility, a research study that may bring a cure...6 weeks to three months post-diagnosis.
Anyone, anyone...God? You hearing my repetitive prayer?
Oh well, we'll get through, we always do. But just so you know, I've felt pain as a mother before, and with losses of good friends. There are worse situations for parents to deal with, I know, it's true.
But in those quieter moments when my thoughts catch up, the house is finally settled, my duties done. Teardrops do fall, just a brief moment of grief, for every lost drop of her blood.
Obviously. In between measuring out all those snacks, and scheduling our day better, and studying all the interesting things homeschoolers should encourage themselves to know more about anyway. Including vomiting.
No, not getting into the ol' ketoids here, have yet to do my research. But, an eating disorder I heard exists and gets transfered from camp to camp...it's called diarexia. The nutritionist told me.
The kids, I guess, they lose weight by raising their blood sugar. Those rebel high schoolers, and our body conscious medias...it's time we gave this more attention, don't you agree?