|1st BG of 2012|
To be honest, I'm never sure what I'll find.
Sometimes she's on the top bunk. Sometimes the bottom. Sometimes she's made a bed for herself on the floor. Sometimes I have to find her under a pile of blankets and stuffed animals...other times, she's pushed everything off the bed. The newest thing appears to be her little "tents" -- blanket strung erratically from the top bunk, overlapping at various angles. On the weekends, one or both of her sisters could be in bed with her. Then I have to double check that I'm about to test the right kid. Lights on. Lights off. Whatever.
Usually I creep in...poke...beep...and then...
What was she last night at the same time? How did she wake up this morning? Did she have an active day? Should I boost with juice? Should I correct? Should I only give a partial correction? Should I do a temp basal instead? Do these questions ever end?
On most nights, I see the number, and go through the self-made imaginary decision algorithm faster than the speed of light. Sometimes, however, I have to think about it for a minute. Lately, when she senses that I'm lingering, she's been asking...
"Mom, what am I?"
It's new. She used to sleep through the entire routine. But, suddenly, she's more aware. Inquisitive.
She wants to know what her number is, and then she wants to know our plan.
"Are you going to get some juice?" -or - "I should drink some water" -or- "Can I just eat a snack?"
We talk about it briefly. Then I kiss her forehead, and tell her that I'll take care of it. I run my fingers through her hair, and assure her that it's okay to drift back to her dreams.
It's in these moments that I realize just how much she's growing up. No longer immune to the normalcy of overnight finger pokes and meters beeping, she recognizes now that each number requires some level of thought process.
She's only 8, and she has to live with this for a long time. I don't want her losing sleep over diabetes.
At least not yet.