Friday, October 21, 2011

I can take it....

Deep, deep breaths.  In and out.  In and out.  Keep breathing, but dammit, I want to hit something.  I want to let loose with a stream of profanity so vulgar, it would make a pimp blush.  It's been one of those days here.  Normally, I can take whatever D throws at us and just keep going.  All the highs for Lily don't bother me so much.  Throw some insulin at them and they come floating down within a couple of hours.  But the lows!  Oh, the lows terrify me.  I hate seeing her low!  I was exhausted this morning.  I wanted to just lie down on the couch and sleep.  I fed the kids breakfast, dosed Lily, and turned on a cartoon.  Some days, that's about all I can find in me to do.  Within an hour, Lily was hungry again.  I asked her to hold off.  I usually try to wait until it's been two hours since that morning dose because her blood sugar floats up in the higher stratosphere in the mornings and I want to make sure her insulin has peaked.  Today, she didn't want to wait.  She was hungry and wanted something more now!  So, we tested.  Good thing too.  That mid-morning bg that usually hangs out in the 300s was somehow 39.  I pelted her with juice and carbs and she bounced all the way up to 464 like one of those evil super-bouncy balls.  Gave her a correction and an hour later, she's back down to 104 with insulin still on board!  Fed her lunch, gave her insulin for only about half the carbs and she still hung out in the low 100s.  Brought them to the gym and loaded her up with a full Horizon carton of milk and a cookie, no insulin for any of it.  Picked her up an hour and a half later and her bg was only 164.  Great number, but the milk and cookie would normally have her up in the 400s without insulin coverage!  And now, the icing on our cake.  Fed her dinner, dosed her for half the carbs again.  Tested her two hours later, as she's sleeping not-so-peacefully.  She's back down to 37.  F*ck, f*ck, f*ck.  My sensibilities don't let me type out the whole word and as many times as it's going through my head.  But seriously, f*ck this disease!  This shit is f*cked up!  I know Lily is most likely hitting another growth spurt.  That means we get a lovely couple of weeks of chasing her around with sugar, trying to cram unhealthy crap into her body because it's the quickest way to get sugar down her throat and into her blood stream.  I'm sick of this bullshit right now!  I just want her to be able to grow without worrying that her body is going to take everything she has and it won't be enough.  I want her to grow and be safe and healthy!

Now for the funny little kicker to end this whole bit....her bg being that low makes my body go into the "fight or flight" mode.  I get frantic to get her bg up.  And so, at the end of treating her massive low, I get to treat my low!  Fun, fucking fun!

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Set adrift...

A little clarification first...on my last post about pumping vs MDI, someone commented that they thought pumping was safer than MDI.  I'm not sure if my post gave the impression that I think one is "safer" than the other or not, but personally, I don't think it's a matter of which is "safer".  Neither option is "dangerous" on its own.  But both can be lethal if they're not carefully used, but used correctly and with the thought, they're life-giving and phenomenal tools.  We each just choose what we're most comfortable with.

On to what's been bugging me for some time now.  I'm lost.  I feel lost, drifting along and not sure what the directions are, let alone which one to head in.  The story behind it is a bit of a long one.  I'm not sure if I've mentioned it on here before or not, but I actually have a college degree.  I graduated in 2003 with a degree in Elementary Education.  I took a position as a paraprofessional/teacher's aide in an elementary school for the next school year.  I applied and applied and applied.  There were no openings and no job offers.  Until I applied for one randomly at an education job fair.  I got one offer for employment.  In East Baton Rouge Parish, Louisiana.  My husband, who was still my boyfriend at the time, was still in grad school.  I have no doubt that if I'd taken that job offer, I wouldn't have married my husband and wouldn't have my two gorgeous children.  I've never regretted turning that offer down.  Instead, I spent the next school year taking whatever substitute teaching jobs came up while my husband finished his schooling, worked three jobs, and applied for permanent positions in the Twin Cities (we were in a college town just south of Minneapolis back then).  When he got his first major job offer and moved up to the cities, I followed.  I found a job doing before- and after-school child care.  And when I was fired from that job (conveniently, the day after I turned in a fellow co-worker for showing up to work "three sheets to the wind"), I applied for a secretarial job.  I never regretted that move either.  I made some great friends, we managed to buy our home, get married, and conceive a child.  When I was five months pregnant with Lily, my supervisor, whom I adored, went on leave to take care of her husband while he battled cancer.  As he slowly lost his battle, I watched "the big boss" take away all of my supervisor's most enjoyable job duties.  He stripped her position down until it was nothing more than a glorified receptionist and my position, as her assistant, was switched over to be supervised by someone who had told me before I announced my pregnancy that I "shouldn't bother having children because they're not worth the trouble".  And so, at six and a half months along, I quit my job and decided to stay home until Lily was born and then look for a new position after.

Well, one thing led to another and now, nearly five years have passed without me returning to work.  I've never regretted that decision either.  I'm so blessed to have had the ability to stay home with my children!  I'm lucky to have a husband who has not only supported me in this, but has shared in the decision and has encouraged me.  My intention when Lily was born was to return to school in order to earn a Database Administrators Certificate.  Not because I have any passion for it, but because jobs are somewhat plentiful and pay is good.  And it's what I was doing as an "administrative assistant".  I still had that intention until about a year ago.  And then, something changed.  I changed.  I became more active.  Suddenly, spending my days sitting on my rear-end at a desk doesn't sound appealing any more.  The idea has become distasteful.  And my husband has noticed.  Surprisingly, he's actually offered more encouragement.  I know he feels a huge burden, being the only one bringing in an income.  But, he tells me to take my time and figure out what I want to do, what will make me happy.  He tells me that there's no rush.  I'm not sure where he found the generosity and patience to tell me that.  I know he's disappointed in me.  I'm not the most motivated of people.  Actually, that's putting it way too nicely.  I'm horribly un-motivated.  I don't clean like he wishes I would.  I spend money way more than I should.  I don't keep myself in check and fall into depressed states randomly.  I don't hold up my end of things and he's always having to take up the slack.  I'm trying to work on that, but it's not easy and I keep slipping back into old, ugly habits.  It hurts me to know that he's disappointed in me and to know that I'm increasing his burden.  The problem is, the more I feel his disappointment, the more I feel like I'm not good enough, the more I want to just crawl into bed and hide from it all.  Ugly cycle!

Anyway, here's the thing...I'm 34-years-old and I still have no clue what I want to be when I grow up!  I have lots of ideas.  Some of them are not at all practical or probable.  I'd love to write books.  But I have no clue where to start with that and to be honest, I don't have the confidence in myself and my abilities that it would take to do something like that.  I'd love to do something with our church or something with being active and healthy.  Not sure that there are any positions out there for either of those though.  Obviously, I'd like to make enough money that we could start really paying off some of our massive student loan debt.  I have no desire to go back into education.  Not because I didn't enjoy working with the students, but because I hated working in a bureaucratic, politically-charged, under-appreciated industry.  But that's about all I have.  What do I want to do with my life?

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Pump Debate-For Joanne!

Blogger doesn't like me.  It doesn't always let me leave comment love for everyone.  I'm not sure why.  Bug up its bum?  Kink in its panties?  Whatever the reason, please understand that I am reading blogs and just not able to comment sometimes, no matter how much I would like to!

This post has been rattling around in my head for a few days.  I was trying to get my thoughts organized.  I'm still not there, but I'm writing it anyway.  Joanne over at Death of a Pancreas wrote this post about the pump trials she just did with her d-daughter.  It hit a spot in me and I felt like I needed to say something, so here goes....

When I got the pump, I was 23-years-old, a college student on public assistance medical, and had just moved in with my boyfriend (who is now my husband).  My biggest concern with going onto the pump, other than the intimidating amount of new d-terms to learn, was the tubing.  To be honest without going into too much detail, I was specifically worried about what to do with the tubing during those newly-in-love, can't-get-enough-of-each-other romps.  Turns out, that wasn't a problem.  Omnipods weren't available back then, but disconnecting was super-easy and made that tubing not an issue at all.  Fast forward to Lily's diagnosis and I immediately decided that she should be on a pump.  It's easier than shots, cuts down on the amount of needles going into her tiny little body, and seemed to suit our lifestyle better.  It's a whole lot easier to get out the door when you don't have to make sure you grab a vial of insulin and needles on your way out!  And here comes the "but"....

Two years later, I'm not as sure about Lily being on the pump.  Yes, it's helpful.  Yes, it's more convenient.  Yes, I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE all the perks of the pump.  The portability, the ease, the's all great.  But, I have doubts too.  In the middle of the night, when her blood sugars randomly spike, I wonder if the pump has caused her to have a low.  During the morning, when her blood sugars soar and then plummet, I wonder if the pump is doing what it's meant to do.  You see, for me, the pump made managing diabetes much easier.  It allowed me to go about my day without worrying so much about diabetes.  It offered a more carefree lifestyle.  For Lily, it's done the exact opposite.  It brings me more worries.  More considerations.  More conflictions.  When I hear in the news that a young child has passed due to diabetes, I wonder.  Part of me is very worried that some of these children may be hitting those tremendous growth spurts.  And on shots, maybe their bodies would have been able to handle them.  But because they're on a pump...well, you see where I'm going.  I'm not saying that's the case.  You can never know exactly the reasons why or how or what.  And my thoughts are just thoughts.  But...I worry.  I worry about whether or not I've made the best choice for Lily.  I worry if the choice I made is going to cause her growth to be stunted because we're trying to control her too tightly.  I worry if she's going to eventually come to resent the pump and its limitations.  I occasionally worry that her activities will cause the pump to become an issue or that her pump will get in her way.  I worry that I was a bad mom for forcing the pump on her at such a young age.

So...for Joanne, this post is for you.  Only you can know exactly what fork in the road your family should go down.  Only you can decide what's best for your child.  Either way, pump or no pump, there is always going to be doubt and fear in your mind.  Because that's what we mommies do!  We doubt ourselves and fear that we're not doing what's best for our children.  And that is exactly the proof that shows that we are indeed doing what is in our children's best interests!  We put them ahead of our own thoughts and feelings and do what needs to be done.  Your family will make the choice that's right for beautiful girl.  And even when you do, you're still going to doubt it.  But just follow your gut and know that we're all here to cheer you on, no matter what choice you make!

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Opening up shop!

Okay, I finally have a few listings up on Etsy!  Reyna, your hat is one of them!  I added a couple of cute little pompoms to it and I have to say, I think it looks pretty cute.  You can find the listing HERE.  I have a few other things listed as well and am working on getting some more done.  If anyone is interested, you can find my store by clicking HERE.  I finally got a good picture of a set that I've been meaning to post a pic of and I got that listed too.  It's cuter than cute and I'm tempted to make a set up for myself!

An update on other things...I was doing pretty good last week with the exercising.  I was taking Reyna's advice and clawing and scratching my way out of my funk.  I made it to the gym and worked my butt off several days last week.  And then Saturday came.  My family was throwing a benefit for my nephew, who has chronic renal failure and is going to need a kidney transplant soon.  I decided to go and bring the kids.  Unfortunately, attending meant driving for five hours in the car to get to the benefit and then driving five hours back.  I drove roughly 640 miles in less than 36 hours.  It.  Was.  AWFUL!  Driving that much with two small kids is not a fun experience.  And it left me with no energy for exercising on Saturday or Sunday.  And ever since then, we've been battling cold bugs.  Lily's been sick with a hacking cough for days.  Leo's got a runny nose.  And I'm all stuffed up.  It makes for some fun times.  It's been five days without working out and I'm starting to see all the flabby spots again.  I'm hoping I can manage to make it tomorrow to get in a good workout.  Or at least a small strength-training session.  That might be kind of high hopes though....Lily's second day of preschool is tomorrow, if she's feeling up to it.  And Leo and I will be staying to show Lily's teachers the ins and outs of her insulin pump.  Let's hope it all goes well!