Fantasy Diabetes Device

What would my fantasy diabetes device be? We already have part of it. I love, and my son completely LOVES his Cozmo.  My dream would be to be able to keep all of its amazing technology…with one addition. A cattle prod. You know, an electric shock device.

Vibrations and alarms just do not cut it.  When they go off, my son obliges and turns them off without looking or attending to the issue at hand.  I have always thought that if he received an electric shock, he would be more likely to pay attention to what caused the shock. He might even be proactive and change a site before he was warned. He might put in insulin before the pump is gasping for more. He might even…wait for it….test before the pump tells him too!

Ah yes, a little electrical stimulation could work wonders for his diabetes care! His hair may end up a little curlier than it currently is.  He may develop a bit of a nervous twitch but I am sure it would all be worth it in the end.  Don’t you??

An Insulin pump for a paperweight!

“MOM!!!!! Something is wrong! My pump fell out last night. I feel really weird.”
“You are probably just high. Test and get a new site. I will be there in a second.”
My son tested his blood glucose level and yelled at me again, “Mom this is really, REALLY weird!! My site fell out and, looking at the puddle of insulin on my sheets, it must have happened sometime late last night, but my reading is in range!”
There is no way that my son could be in range with no insulin. I was sure that something must be wrong.  I retested him on not one, not two, but four different meters. He was fine. Actually he is better than fine. His reading was a nice, pretty 5.0 (90).  He must have made a mistake about the site failure.  My son has had Type 1 diabetes since he was 2.  He cannot live without an external source of insulin.  His pump is the only way he gets insulin into his body.
“I am telling you Mom, I feel strange. I feel better than I can ever remember.  I must be cured!”
“And pigs fly! You cannot possibly be cured just like that. Your body does not just regenerate an organ.  There has to be a logical explanation.  Go and get ready for your day.”
My son was adamant. He was cured. He did not need insulin.  He ate his breakfast but refused to bolus. I waited for him to be sick.
Two hours later, I was reminding him to test. He looked perfect–not his usual shade of grey that comes with being high. He showed me his results…5.4 (95ish)! He was perfect again. His grin filled his face.
“I think it will be A&W for lunch with a side trip to Dairy Queen for a banana split hold the insulin! Added to that…I don’t think I will bother to test today!!”  With that my son made one last stop before heading out the front door. He turned to his insulin pump that had been left sitting on the counter and said “You’ve been a good friend for a lot of years, but I am sorry to tell you that you will now be used as a paperweight.  You did a great job of keeping me alive but I am afraid that your services are no longer required!”
With that he was off to enjoy his first day without infusion sets, insulin pumps, glucometers or even glucose tablets.  He was free!
I sat back and remained stunned. Was this possible? Had he somehow been cured? I went online to check with my many friends who also live with diabetes in their houses. The stories were the same! Somehow Diabetes had left the building! It had left the planet! We were living in a diabetes free world!
I felt light-headed.  There would be no more night time checks? I would not have to worry about his readings or him bolusing while he was out? I didn’t have to worry about the cost of pump supplies or insulin? He was free? It was over?
I cried. I screamed. I rejoiced with family and friends! This truly was the most amazing day ever if only the annoying door bell would stop ringing. The constant buzzing was messing with my celebrations. Why wouldn’t it stop? Was it just happy too?
Finally I realized that the “door bell” was my alarm clock. It was time to get up.  My best day ever was simply a dream to experience another day. One day maybe we will all be so lucky. In the meantime, its time to see if my son tested for that cereal he just had for breakfast.

What would you do?

Today I have been doing my very best at doing nothing. I am easily distracted and have spent more time searching for ellusive quarters to finish my latest Packrat collection than getting any meaningful work done. Its a lovely sunny day with a storm forecast for tomorrow and my get up and go seems to be flaked out in the sun. 

In an effort to see some productivity today I began going through my twitter peeps to see what was new in research, blogs and of course cures for diabetes (there is no end to the number of “cure your diabetes” tweets to be seen).  As I went through some great information and read some blog posts that made me sad, I read one that really made me pause.  It was a “diabetic parents” blog called “Left Field“.  The author’s husband, who must have diabetes, was pondering what he would do if he won a lottery.  He stated that he would go to Brazil to have a stem cell transplant that would allow him to live diabetes free for 12-18 months.

My first thought was how devistating to go back to life with diabetes when your magical time was up.  She went on to state that he thought being able to experience life diabetes free for the first time in his lifetime would be worth it. This made me think of my own son. Would he think the same way? He has never known life without diabetes.  He can barely remember last week so there is no way he remembers life 11 years ago when he would eat without testing and bolusing.

I can’t answer for him so I wondered what it would mean for me…12 months without night testing would mean that I just might start to make up for 17 years of sleepless nights only to be thrown back into full tilt when the “cure” wore off–but I could handle that. It would mean a year without a log book. No writing down everything he ate and every reading. It would mean no readings! No nagging to test, no asking “did you bolus?”.  No site changes, no insulin cartridges to fill. No trips to the pharmacy for more test strips. No more test strips in the washer. No more test strips in the dryer. No more test strips in my car, in the driveway, under the couch or in the plants!

This is getting exciting but wait…it only lasts until midnight, I mean 12-18 months.  After that we are plunged back into the life of counting every carb, bolusing every morsel, testing day and night, worrying about A1c results, logging, fighting lows, injecting highs, advocating, educating, and paying the wages of more than one pharmacy employee.

Its a wonderful dream and for those who feel a cure is nearby, maybe its a fantasy they will bask in on a semi-regular basis. That was long enough in fantasy land for me. It was rather intoxicating but back to reality and getting that test strip out of my African violet so I can water it (I know it needs more help than that but its a start!).