Category Archives: diabetes care transition

It’s Not My Disease?

We are constantly told as parents of children with diabetes to remember that this is not our disease.  When you are dealing with a toddler or a small child, it is really difficult to take this advice to heart.  A two year old cannot grasp what is going on in their bodies. It is Mom and Dad’s burden.  The challenge as parents, is to realize that while it was our burden, our children’s diabetes is not our disease.
 
Last week my son was having technical difficulties uploading his pump.  After many messages and much frustration on my part, I finally decided to ignore our weekly diabetes education session for a bit. I began to wonder if my son was on overload.  He had been to two different diabetes educators in a matter of weeks and had Mom calling him to discuss what was going on.
 
I began to think about taking a total break. Maybe I should just be letting the “experts” handle this. Perhaps it was time for Mom to just step away.  I was finding myself frustrated and angered when I wasn’t seeing enough data to make educated guesses about my son’s care.  Things were building up and I wondered if I was better just walking away for a bit. I began to think that he would have more peace and learn more if I just let it all be.
 
As my emotions churned and became more negative, I was hit by a thought. It literally felt like I was hit in the side of the head with a 2×4.  The  weight of this realization made me sit down and shake my head and wonder why it took me so long to “get it”.  I did not need all of that information.  The person who needed it had it–my son! My job was to ask him the right questions. My job was to guide him towards the answers but let him find his own solutions.
 
With that realization, a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. I was no longer carrying the burden of an impossible task. I was now sharing, teaching, and supporting–doing my job as a parent.  It felt wonderful!
 
When I picked up the phone and began talking to my son, I asked him if he had the pump program open.  He was shocked.  Why did he need it? I suggested that he might want to see it so he could decide what needed to be done.
 
We then discussed the areas that he felt needed to be changed. I asked him what needed to be tweaked, a basal or a bolus ratio.  He said his carb to insulin ratio was perfect.  I asked him why.  ”Because the dietitian said so.”  I laughed and said that he needed to say so! We went through a process of establishing if she was right.  The next step was to decide when to make the change.  I pulled out my John Walsh book and quoted to him how to change a basal rate.  He then made the decision of when and how much of a change he would make.
 
I was proud of him.  I was proud of me.  We were both learning.  He was being empowered and it gave me a huge sense of relief.  This really is his disease. It my job to help him, encourage him and be there to help but at the end of the day only he can test, bolus and adjust. Its all up to him.
stock-photo-comic-book-style-thud-55858537

A Rose Colored Life

I am slowly adjusting to not having any young men living in my house anymore. As I have said many times, it is a challenge for me on so many levels. I have found test strips in a few places and I can’t take it upon myself to pick them up.  They are physical reminders of my child. I actually smile when I see them.
 
IMG-20131203-00194

This one greets me in my laundry room each day.
Yesterday I realized how much we can romanticize situations when someone is away.  I am almost looking forward to getting up and testing my son through the night over Christmas. Gone is the dread and frustration that I carried for years.  Now, I will be doing him a favor–and more importantly I will have data to look at!!
 
Life can almost be rosy when they are away and you are simply talking on the phone or texting.  You can forget the challenges of trying to get a teen involved in his diabetes care.  You can gloss over the attitude that they can carry with them, the eye rolls and the shrugging of shoulders.  You don’t have to consider the fights over homework and grades.  There is a certain bliss about the situation…and then there are the challenges….
 
I am not there to force him to do homework and improve his grades. I cannot physically see the assignments that he should be paying more attention to but I do see the results in his report cards. I am not there to ensure that he is in the house at what I feel is a decent hour. I am not able to make sure that foods are bolused and testing is done.  This can lead to a sense of frustration and powerlessness. It can be torture….or I can go back to life with the rose-colored glasses fondly looking at dead test strips and remembering only the fondest of memories.
 
It is funny how the mind works.  I am at the point where I do both–I think of my son’s laughter and sense of humor. I wish that I could still do more about his diabetes care. I want to strangle him and kick his butt over his plummeting grades. I want to hook him up to a CGM and be done with it no matter what he says.
 
Such is the challenges of a child who is no longer small.  This is the way it is when he no longer lives in the same house, the same city, or the same part of the province.  This is how it is when he is struggling to be his own man.  It can be painful. It can be a learning experience for both of us. It is most certainly the greatest challenge of a parent.

Who Will Do the Pouring?

It was 6:30am.  I woke up in shock at first that I had slept so long and then calmed myself. I had gone to bed after 1am and my son was still up doing his “thing” for a few more hours.  He tests before he goes to bed so it was probably just the right time to test. And I was right…
I checked, doing my best to stay 3/4 asleep so I could doze instantly when I returned to bed.  He was low.  No such sleeping allowed. I got a glass of juice and told him to drink.  I continued my routine of heading back to my room to wait for 15 minutes.  As I headed back however, I began to think…what will he do when I am not there to wake him and bring him juice? I know that many adults with Type 1 diabetes handle it fine.  They have glucose or juice boxes by their beds. They wake up and deal with it. Its part of their lives…but this is my kid. He is not an adult that I know.  No matter how big he gets he’s my little boy.
I hope that he will wake on his own. I know he has done it (and complained about this new-found ability) when he was away from me. It still makes me worried. My son is very private about his diabetes. He is also very independent.  That is a good thing and a terrible thing for a mom.  I know he has good friends. I know that they would watch for him if he was living with one of them…but what if he wants to live alone? Well, he should have that right! But as his mom, I worry. I know it will sort itself out. I can’t borrow worry. I can’t predict the future.  At night, nightmares rear their heads though.
Its daytime now.  Time to focus on the today…like getting him to take out the garbage and Swifter the floors! He will soon be 16 and there will be enough to worry about with him learning how to drive.  I will save the worry about how he will handle nights alone for a few more years…or another late night/early morning low worrying session!
juice

No Blood? No Tears? What Happened?

Wow! Did that really happen? Was it really that painless? Did I miss something? Why am I not ready to cry in frustration? Are we making progress?
The other day, I sat down with our notebook. Its the one that says what sort of workout my son did, how intense it was and what we did about diabetes care as well as what sort of results were had. I asked for his meter and I plugged it into my iPod.  It had only been a few days since I had done this. I was still a little nervous about what I would find. 
Despite the fact that bg level reviews are supposed to be a time for discussion and learning, they normally are times when I cringe and want to cry while my son glazes over and comes up with strange excuses for missed readings. This time was very different!
I noted the readings.  We talked about foods before exercise. We talked about foods after exercise. He talked about how he felt exercising with various foods in his system.  We looked at missed readings and high readings. He was quick to point out his own errors and state that he needed to improve to get back to that guy he had been the week before.
I told him he had done really well. I was impressed.  He walked away with his own definition of what needed to be done and I did a small bit of tweaking based on my own feelings.  The biggest shock was the feelings and the atmosphere when the process was over…It was great! There was peace.
I felt good. I was happy to see readings and an interest. He felt pretty happy with things in general. He had seen decent numbers and had a strategy for readings that were a little off.  There was no blood spilt.  There were no tears.  Could we be making progress??
He goes away in a week and will be on his own for his diabetes care. This is normally a time when he applies the motto “When the cat’s away, the mouse will play!” or his his case when the mouse is away from the cat but you get the idea! I have been reading Moira McCarthy’s book as often as I can.(Blog review to come later!) I think I have a better grasp of will most likely happen while he is gone and why.  I think I may be better able to handle it when he comes back…well maybe…well I will try anyway! For now, I will just savor a really nice sharing of diabetes information with my son. drama