Time moves so quickly. It can feel so slow when you ask your son for the twentieth time if he has changed his site and he hasn’t. You wonder if it will ever change. Will he ever get it? Will he remember to test? He will not live with me forever no matter what. How will he continue? Will any of it sink in? How will he handle things? What will he do when he needs a break?
I am a worrier and the thoughts going through my head lately will soon drive me over the edge if I am not careful. Preparing for my oldest son’s graduation from high school and realizing that he is on the verge of manhood, is sending my mind reeling. My children are growing up! Have I prepared them well enough? What else can I do for my youngest? How will I handle their independence? It will not be easy but I suppose I will adjust.
When I look at my son’s log book I wonder. When I see how well he pays attention to site change reminders…five days later, fear takes over. How will he handle this for the rest of his life?
I then listen to him react as I ask “Where are the tests? Why did you not test for this food? Why did you not check after that low?”. My questions are no longer asked in panic mode. I no longer ask in that hysterical, meltdown voice. I simply ask the questions and wait.
His answers are now more interesting. “Mom, my new year’s resolution is to test more. I can’t believe that I am missing these tests. I can’t do that. I have to do better. I will definitely be working on this.”
I know, you are thinking, yes he is saying everything he feels that I want to hear. You may be right but I have also watched the actions. I no longer “freak out” as often over his care mistakes. I think a lot. I wonder what else I can do but I give him facts. We look at trends together and decide what needs to be done.
“Why where you high? Oh you made a bolus mistake. No problem. Now you know for next time.”
“Where did that low come from? Right! Exercise, okay we will work on that one but where is the retest? Oh there it is.”
He is learning. The process is so painfully slow that I still fear him leaving my house. The rational part of me says that I allow him to do a lot of his care without my hovering now. He is left to go places and must face the world on his own. He comes back alive and well. We still have another three plus years at least to learn, stumble, fall and brush off his knees. He has learned a lot in the past few years, he will continue to learn. We will be okay…I pray!