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Monday, January 7, 2013

Morning Toes.

"Dad, I feel dizzy."

I was on a call in the office...a fever, Acetaminophen, and fluids...but I heard the way her voice sounded in the other room and it diverted my attention.

"Well, let's check your blood sugar."

"Yes. One teaspoon or 5 mls for your child's weight is the correct dose."

Beep.  Click.  Beep.

"Hope she feels better.  Have a good night."

"OH MY GOSH!!!!"  

Cue sound of frenzied movement, papers rustling, and panic.

At this point, I bolted out of my office chair, dropping the phone on the ground.


I found Sugar sitting in a chair and Mr. Rose tearing open a Gluco Shot.  I immediately grabbed a second one and began tearing one open myself.  There we were, two frantic parents standing over our baby girl -- you might have thought we'd never done this before, if you didn't know better.

I pulled the Glucagon out of her bag...just to have it in plain sight.

He told me to calm down.

Before I ran out of the office, the next call up on my screen was a runny nose.  I knew I needed to get back to work, but figured it was only going to take a few minutes to help save my daughter's life first.

Not to sound dramatic or anything.

(Except it's the truth.)

Re-check:  55.

Feeling somewhat reassured, I retreated.

A few hours later she was in the 300's.

And, again, a few hours after that.

Then the 200's.

By morning, she was 190.

The description "LONG NIGHT" doesn't quite do it justice.

I turned on the light, and cheerily began singing that it was time to wake up for school...she grumbled at me and pulled the blanket back up over her head.

"It's too bright.  Turn the stinkin' light off!!!"

She did NOT want to get up.

I can't say that I blame her.  I have NO IDEA what it feels like to crash to a BG of 39 and then hover in the 300's for a few hours.  I have no idea what a restless sleep such havoc creates. I have no idea the parched thirst she must have been feeling.

And, yet, she stuck her big toe out from under the blanket and waved it at me.

Then I heard her giggle...and her giggle turn to laughter...

That's my girl.

You can do this.

A new day has dawned.

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  1. You say that you have no idea what it feels like...but I think that you can pretty much understand the moments of panic. I think you can relate to how confusing it is when we think that we've done everything right. And I think that you understand the self-criticism that accompanies the highs and lows.

    Glad she's doing better. :)

  2. Well, it feels just as crappy and exhausting as you might imagine. And Sugar is awesome!! (So are you!!!)

  3. That's a great visualization. Props to all of you for always finding something to laugh at! I agree with Karen- especially the 'exhausting' part. When I was younger, I don't remember taking long to recover from big swings. Now, it can throw me for a whole day. I hope you both get a good night's sleep tonight!

  4. Life of a yo-yo... oh, I meant life with diabetes. Like it's any different. Great post, Wendy (though sorry about the ups and downs!). But the giggling and laughter makes it ALL worthwhile, and brings a smile. Thanks for sharing this.


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Life For A Child Button 2
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.