Keep Bleeding!

I heard the crash. I heard the intake of breath.  Something was wrong. 

I called out to the kitchen, asking my son if he was still alive. He was.  He had decided to cut his hand instead of a bun.  

I went into check on the level of damage. 

“Who knew that we had sharp knives!?” he exclaimed. 

The blood was flowing and I reminded him not to get it on the food. It would spoil the aesthetics if nothing else. At that point blood splattered on the top of the loaf.  I quickly told him “Don’t clean up your finger yet. Keep it bleeding! I will be right back. When was the last time you tested yourself?” 

He told me it had been a bit.  I rushed into my youngest son’s room and grabbed a meter. I brought it into the kitchen and applied the test strip to the decent sized pool of blood sitting on top of his finger. 

He was 5.6(100).  Life was good. Diabetes had not moved into his world.  I did a small happy dance and suggested that he might want to clean up the blood that was dripping off of his hand.  We went to the washroom, added the Scooby Doo Band aid and were good to go.  

To the casual observer, I am sure that experience would have seemed bizarre. For us, it was the norm.  We do not waste blood.  My oldest son knows this and knows that cleaning a cut only happens AFTER the blood has been tested. 

Okay it is a little warped but its what happens when diabetes has lived in your house for over 12 years! 

When a Sandwich is just a Sandwich

Yesterday my older son came home from school to have lunch. The college he is attending is only a few minutes away so he decided that a heated lunch here would be preferable.  

It was strange to be standing side by side again as we cooked our meal of grilled cheese sandwiches.  We have lived apart for the past two years so I cherish every moment when he is around. 

We soon sat down and began to eat.  As he was eating I found myself counting his carbs.  I wanted to tell him to bolus 77 when I stopped myself.  This is my non-D child.  He doesn’t  have to bolus.  He just eats. 

I watched him finish his meal and text his friends.  He was unaware of the fact that I had been watching him. I was enjoying his presence but I was also saying a quiet thank you that so far, he still remained without diabetes and therefore carefree in his eating and other parts of his life.