Thought #46: I’m only human.

The other night I messed up.

Big time.

I gave Ian 4.5 units of Humalog before bed instead of 4.5 units of Lantus.

I gave him 4.5 units of a fast-acting insulin meant to be given with carbs.  With his current ratio, he would have needed to eaten 180g of carbohydrates before bed.

He only had a 15g snack

How did I know I made this mistake?

At 11:30 he came downstairs and woke me and said, “We need to test NOW.”

He was 50.

Thank God he woke up and realized it.

A juice box and 15 minutes later…he’s 90 and I’m thinking, “What did I do wrong??? Why in the world did he drop from a high 253 to 90 in less than three hours??”

And then I had a sinking feeling. A moment of panic.

I gave him the wrong meds. 

I remembered standing at the dining room table talking to the kids and drawing up his meds, like always. I thought I gave him Lantus out of the slightly taller vial of clear medicine.

And I just had this horrible feeling that I did this to him.

He ate some peanut butter crackers and tucked him into my bed.

And I called the nurse. And she said that this happens. It happens a lot. It was an honest mistake and it was very likely that this is what happened. No other explanation made sense.

We would not know until morning. If his blood sugar started to rise over the course of the night, we would know there was no long-lasting insulin in his system.

By 5:30 am he was 250+.

As his mother it is my responsibility to keep him alive by giving him medicine that his body cannot produce.

Talk about guilt.

The nurse developed a plan to deal with this mistake for the next 24 hours. It involved extra correction and hourly blood sugar and ketone tests. It made for one of the longest nights of my life. I mean, really, how could I sleep at this point?

Talk about exhausted.

We both went to school the next day but we were back home in comfy clothes by 10:00.  As expected, his blood sugar continued to climb and when he hit 350 at 9:30, I knew it was just easier on everyone to be at home.

We spent the day playing Sorry Sliders and Wii, doing puzzles, and watching multiple episodes of Full House.

By afternoon snack, he was doing better and in the 100s.  We went to the orthodontist as scheduled and to a meeting I had at work.

And then, out of guilt and pure exhaustion, when he asked to go to Applebee’s for dinner, I said “Yes.”

Thought #25: Sometimes the reality of forever blows my mind.

I know this is a forever thing. I do.

But there are times when I am doing something and my mind wanders to a month from now, to Ian’s birthday in May, to summer vacation and the lake….

He will still have diabetes and we’ll still be dealing with this.

And it hits me hard in the gut.

Every year I make cupcakes for his class for his birthday.

I know by May we will know how to adjust his insulin to accommodate a birthday treat, but the thought still for some reason shocks me….like my mind has somehow decided this is only temporary.

In my heart, I know it’s forever.

Thought #22: Your pancreas is broken and so is my heart.

Last night Ian had a total meltdown before dinner.

His blood sugar wasn’t low. We hadn’t even discussed a shot. He wasn’t picking out food for his meal.

He just lost it. He was crying and it broke my heart.

I took him from the kitchen to my bedroom and just held him…like a baby and let him cry.

“I’m tired of this,” he cried.

Me too. Me too.

And then there is MJ….she is having trouble sleeping and try as I might, I can’t get her to talk.  I’ve tried to get her to open up about whatever it is that is bugging her. I wish it was just her being an almost teenager, but I am so afraid it is not.

I’m afraid that this stupid disease is hurting her too.

Sometimes I think I am doing better and I feel good. And then I get a text or an email from a someone and their kind words bring tears to my eyes.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate their thoughts and their effort to reach out. I do.

It’s just that I hate that they have to…that our lives are like this now and require these kinds of interactions.

I do not know how I will go back to work and face people. I can’t read a text without crying. How do I handle looking them in the eyes and not feel the sympathy and pity and sadness?

Not only does my son have a broken pancreas….I have a broken heart.

Thought #21: I want to get off this rollercoaster!

Not only does Ian’s blood sugar run high and low, but so do my emotions, my energy and my days, in general.

One night I will sleep great, the next….horribly.

My appetite is up and down as well.  I don’t eat much until we sit down to dinner and even then, I am really not that hungry.

My mood is all over the place.  Yesterday I felt relatively “high”…with less tears and less sad thoughts.

Last night (Day 10) was the best night we’ve had so far.  We were almost normal again. Laughing, dancing, and singing in the kitchen after dinner.  The kids played and made a video. It felt good to feel so good, but I knew it would probably be a fleeting moment.

Today I am just blah.  After going to the grocery store and aimlessly walking around for over an hour, I have been home and have accomplished nothing except watch t.v.

Now I look at the clock and panic because I have to pick up the kids in 40 minutes.  I have nothing to show for my day at home except more groceries in the pantry.

I used to love rollercoasters.  Oddly enough, the last time I rode one was when Ian was three months old and the first ride at Cedar Point made me completely sick. I didn’t ride another ride the rest of the day.

And now I am on a rollercoaster with a track that never ends. A rollercoaster with dips and hills, high speeds, jerks and turns.

Thought #17: This is really hard to talk about.

I hate the elephant in the room…..the big, old, stupid, gray elephant…the one with the big dark storm cloud hanging over his head.

The easiest way for me to talk is in technical terms.

I know when my friends text me, they don’t want a report on his blood sugars and insulin doses, and the breakdown of his carbs at lunch.

I know when they say, “How are things?” they mean with me, with him, with our emotions.

But the big, old, stupid gray elephant looks at me with sad eyes and just shakes his head.

Thought #15: I’m so tired.

The exhaustion set in after the first night.  I barely slept as I laid beside him in the hospital bed.

The second night was better. We both showered before bed and were either a little more relaxed or just so exhausted, it was easier to sleep.

In fact, we both slept through the 2 a.m. blood sugar check.

Every night since then has been exhausting.

Falling asleep is difficult, no matter how tired I am.

Sleeping soundly is difficult, as I wait for the alarm to go off for another 2 a.m. check.

A low blood sugar at 2 a.m. makes sleep afterwards practically impossible.

The thinking, the thought, the emotions…it’s all so very draining.

Sometimes I say it’s like having a newborn.  You need to sleep. You need your rest. Yet, you can’t. And the baby still gets up during the night.

But in this case, you get up to check on your baby.

Thought #13: Thank goodness for Facebook.

Much like texting, Facebook provided me with instant access to many people at once and I could give updates, with pictures. Because I was essentially “alone” in the hospital, this was huge for me. The updates were comforting for my family as they could actually see the improvement.

By providing periodic updates and receiving notes and comments, I felt very loved and knew that Ian was in many people’s prayers.

The updates below will always be special, if not bittersweet….as they capture the bravery and personality of my little man perfectly.

Jan. 4, 2013 Ian is eating his low carb dinner and watching football and is a relatively happy boy. We’ve had a long day and we have a big hill to climb. He was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes today. 😦 We are at Akron Children’s for the next few days to get him regulated and get us educated. Thank you in advance for all your prayers.

Sweet dreams buddy. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Jan.5, 2013  Update on Ian: His blood sugar is coming down. He’s handling the insulin shots a little better each time (alot of it is more nerves than pain) and he’s ready for some football. We learned a lot about his diet and the actual disease this morning. This afternoon: diabetes management and all that jazz. 🙂 Thank you to everyone who has offered advice and information. We will be taking it all in in the next few days. And of course, thank you for the thoughts and prayers.

Some lunch and a visit from Uncle Taylor…good for Ian and good for Mom. 🙂

Lights are low. Football is on. No more talking or training for today. Good thing…my brain is full. Keep telling myself “knowledge is power” and I should feel pretty powerful now.

He’s taking charge, doing the math, and counting his carbs for breakfast. Love this boy and so proud of him. Night everyone!

Jan. 6, 2013 We are now waiting to be discharged!!! All of us have had a chance to test his blood and give insulin so we are as comfortable as we can be at this point. Now we have to plan meals and snacks, get supplies and meds organized and meet with some staff members at his school. After a good nights sleep, Ian and I are both in better spirits. In the words of Ian, “Let’s do this thing.”