Sugar was telling us about P.E. and showing us how fast she can run. (I'm thinking future track and field star for sure.) We laughed. She ran in circles. We laughed some more.
Than she looked right at me and asked if I knew the secret to running fast.
I felt like she was a teacher who caught me writing notes in class or something. Her stare penetrated right through me. I'm known for running at the pace of a snail, and answered her honestly:
"I have no idea. What's the secret?"
"You just have to believe in yourself...and pretend you aren't wearing shoes."
Profound thinker, that girl of mine.
She left me to ponder her insight, and disappeared to play with her sisters.
Then Tiara hit her head, and the next 24 hours went downhill.
Cry, hug, kiss...you know the drill.
Nearly 2 hours later, she was still really uncomfortable.
To the ER we went...she vomited almost non-stop the entire way. Such a trooper back there by herself, holding her own bowl, and keeping calm while I drove like a mad woman.
How many 5 year olds can puke violently without freaking out and spilling their emesis all over the dang car?
She's amazing, I tell ya.
I've learned to stay calm in situations like this, but I was scared. I set off in one direction, but then my instincts decided it would be better to proceed to the children's hospital downtown instead. It's almost an hour away, but I really felt like that's where she needed to be, just in case something really was wrong.
Anyway, long story short -- her head CT was normal and she's fine now.
Suffice to say it was a long night.
We made it home around 1 am. I set up camp for both of us in the living room, got Tiara settled, and then discovered that Sugar's blood sugar was high.
Between fighting numbers and waking Tiara every 2 hours to assess responsiveness (I'm such a nurse!), I was pretty much out of it the next day. I was hoping that Jay was sound asleep, but it turned out that he was restless with concern about our trip to the ER. He was coming out to check Tiara on the hours when I wasn't checking her.
Alas life goes on.
Internal alarms were blaring when she woke up at 250, but I corrected anyway.
Why do I do that?
It's like I have to prove that every other variable is the problem before I'll just change the stinkin' site! WHAT THE HECK? CHANGE. THE. SITE. WOMAN!
350 at mid-morning snack.
I thought about her numbers from the day before and decided we might have a pattern starting. Better to wait and see.
Internal alarms silenced. I'm ignoring you.
Instead, I decided to take my zombie-self to the grocery store.
Which is exactly where I was, with a cart full of produce, on my way to grab some eggs, when the phone rang.
450 at lunch.
OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
Fortunately, Jay had taken half a day off, and was at the store with Tiara and me. I left them in Dairy, and zoomed to the school to put in a new site.
I can literally count on 1 hand the number of times Sugar has needed a site change during the school day. If you include preschool, we've just started our fifth year of sending diabetes to school. It's, like, an average of ONCE PER YEAR!
One zombie site in place, groceries put away, and life is back on track.
Just like that. Normalcy turns into chaos, and then you run in circles trying to achieve a sense of peace again.
While you're running, try pretending you aren't wearing shoes.
And don't forget to believe in yourself.
While I'm happy to share our experiences with what works, and what doesn't work, for the management of Type 1 Diabetes and Celiac Disease in our house, please do not mistake anything you read here for medical advice. Decisions regarding your/your child's health care should be made only with the assistance of your medical care team. Use any information from this blog at your own risk.