Well posts here have slowed to a trickle. This may be a break or it may be the natural end to this little blog. Not because diabetes life has become simple -it’s still complicated, perhaps more so- but my lovely teens and youngest lilG have requested more privacy. You can still find me on ‘the twitter’ where 140 characters or less generally fulfills my current needs to vent about the stupid diabetes.
Yes that’s me singing in a Sesame Street voice about multiple daily injections (MDI). Sam decided to try giving up his insulin pump after 12.5 years of pumping. I was nervous because he had never known life without an insulin pump. (Warning the next few paragraphs get a little dull with me reminiscing about toddler basal/ bolus ratios. I’ve talked previously about this issue in Look how Sammy’s grown but of course I still can’t figure out how to make those links)
Sam started on an Animas iR1000 in 2002. This was truly the only feasible pump option for him at the time because of its ability to give minute doses. His first basal rate was equivalent to 4units of insulin for a whole day! His bolus ratio was 30 to 1. We moved to an insulin pump from needles for a handful of reasons. The first reason being he had an odd response to NPH. It would seem to pool in his body for hours and then release all at once. He would go from hi blood sugars to insulin shock & seizures without any extra rapid doses. Very scary.
Another significant reason was Sam’s incredible ability to assert his wishes into everyday life planning. Otherwise known as ‘no way he was gonna do what he didn’t wanna do’. Many days one of the things he had no interest in doing was eating. Or drinking. Sam could go on a food strike for days at a time. One time he ended up in hospital on IV fluids for a week because he would not eat or drink anything. Not even a Popsicle. He was three years old at the time. An insulin pump allowed us to become more flexible with dosing so that we weren’t having food power struggles.
Ah, my Sam. His strength of personality and willpower has actually inspired me to be a stronger person myself. If he could shake a fist at the medical establishment at 2 years old, yelling ‘You LEAVE ME ALONE ‘ I could certainly learn to find a voice for myself! However, I’ve also learned from Sam to only pick a power struggle that really matters because otherwise life is very stressful!
Which is how despite my nervousness we have shifted to 🎶multiple daaaaaily inje-e-ections🎶 and he couldn’t be happier. Fundamentally, he loves that he’s not wearing equipment. He’s also taken control of his health care in the last two weeks with interest and dare I say it? Excitement. He’s excited about some better daily blood glucose numbers- he actually brought them to my attention! I’ve also noted him taking time to consider food choices- the old ‘is it worth an injection’ test. This is handy for me because he’s eating more consistently and bigger meals at a time. The kid might actually gain a few pounds for his gangly frame ;P
So, as we all know #yourdiabetesmayvary etc etc but watching Sam take ownership of his health and choose 🎶multiple daaaily injeeeections 🎶 (and yes I do sing it every time we say it at home) has really been a wonderful experience. I have no idea whether this is a short term choice for him – Ya know until the cure happens in five years- but I’m enjoying the moment.
PS. Full disclosure: This blog has been sponsored by my thin ragged wallet which is also happier to not be purchasing insulin pump supplies. My wallet would also like the younger two children to find the same MDI joy as Sam.😉
I like to quietly test the kids blood on the weekend without waking them so they can sleep in if they choose. This morning was no different for a Sunday. Sneak in, prepare the meter, ever so gently find a hand and sneakily steal some blood from an unsuspecting finger. They rarely wake up- I’m a blood sugar ninja dmom- you’ve probably heard about us…
Except , this morning, I had one of those moments when I looked down at my teenage boys hand in mine and thought of all the tests before this one. All the times I had held his hand while he slept. How that hand is growing and growing and growing. It’s been twelve and half years or so I’ve been poking these fingers.
This morning isn’t a different day, not an anniversary day, the blood sugar number wasn’t good or bad, high or low, he’s not sick or having a growth spurt. The summer heat hasn’t changed his insulin requirements sending me into tail spins of how to figure out new ratio’s.
It’s just a normal abnormal morning.
It’s just a small moment of normal abnormal that makes me so thankful to hold that growing hand.
Sebastien Sasseville sucks.
Those aren’t my words by the way, they are 100 per cent his.
He’s talking about his natural athletic ability. Now I know what you’re thinking. Ultra-marathoner. First type 1 diabetic to reach the top of Mount Everest. Needs more than one hand to count the number of Ironman’s he’s done. Really?
But out of his own mouth, Sebastien admits that growing up, he was the furthest thing from a high school jock.
“I suck at sports. You know that kid who is always picked last in school?”
Yup. That was him. After being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at 22, he decided he wanted to live a healthier lifestyle. So off he went, laces tied, ready to go.
“I didn’t get out of the parking lot. I ran 250 metres.”
I found hearing this comforting. Sometimes we see well-accomplished athletes as untouchable and their titles so out of reach…
View original post 444 more words