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 #29: I have to forgive myself for mistakes.

Exhaustion and stress are the perfect recipe for mistakes.

I need to accept that they are sometimes going to happen.

Today I dropped MJ off at school and Ian at his dad’s then had to go back because I forgot to send his insulin for his breakfast shot.

With snow days, two hour delays and my leave on absence this situation has not come up yet.

So it’s not my fault.

There is much to think thru and remember and it’s really hard when you are exhausted and sick.

Yet I feel terrible.

I know I need to forgive myself for a mistake that was not harmful in any way.

I know I will make worse mistakes.

I need to remember all the things I’ve done right in the past month.

Thought #19: Please forgive me for all the times I was so hard on you.

I have a lot of guilt that I need to let go of.

I feel bad that I have been so hard on you in the past few weeks and months.

I feel bad that I was impatient and intolerant.

We have had some rough moments, some I am not proud of, and I know I definitely hurt my chances at Mom-of-the-Year.

I know it wasn’t my fault, or yours, and an apology isn’t necessary.

But I still want you to know I am sorry.

I want you to forgive me.

And I want to forgive myself.

Thought #6: This explains a lot.

Once Ian’s diabetes was confirmed, I knew that I had the answer to a lot of questions about his behavior.

Over the past year and a half or so, he and I had been at odds a lot. I know talking back and being stubborn are part of being a little boy, but there were days and nights when he and I had screaming matches.

At one point this summer it was so bad I told his dad that if he didn’t shape up soon, I was going to see about getting him into counseling.

Now I strongly believe that his behavior was very much related to his blood sugar and his illness.

Our worst times were in the late afternoon, after school, before a snack. When he was hungry, watch out….he was mean.

Ian also had a weird obsession with food. Not so much about eating – he’s never been a great eater – but about the details of eating.

“When are we eating?”

“What are we having?”

“Will I like it?”

“What if I don’t?”

“Will there be enough?”

I was very frustrated with these questions and both my parents and my boyfriend had commented on this behavior.

I strongly believe that subconsciously, Ian knew that how he ate and what he ate affected his mood.

Irritability, short temper, crankiness, agitation….these are all things I saw in Ian.

And honestly, things I couldn’t deal with. I took it personally. I felt like a horrible mom for not being able to control his behavior. I was bothered about why he was so worried.

With a diagnosis of diabetes, I feel like I have an explanation for the way he behaved. My little boy could not control his emotions and behaviors and questions when his pancreas was failing him.

Thought #4: Why didn’t we know?

On some level, we all knew it…at least in the 6 days prior to his appointment. But why not earlier? Why didn’t we see the signs?

I have to keep telling myself that I did realize it as soon as it was evident. The excessive thirst, the increased urination while we were on vacation after Christmas.

Those two things were enough to warrant the call to his dad when we landed in the Atlanta airport and then the pediatrician, which led to this.

But, why not sooner? Could I have figured it out any earlier?

Looking back, to just two weeks before his diagnosis, Ian had the flu. The general fever, achey, run-down bug that everyone at school had. It was taking out kids by the masses at both my school and his. He fought an on-off fever for a week.

This is what pushed him into diabetes. This fever was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

His body had had enough and started crying out for help…literally begging for drinks and constant trips to bathroom, even through the night. When we heard those cries, we knew.

Until then, he was silently fighting a losing battle.

They say you should trust your gut and that night on the plane was when my gut told me something was wrong. As much as I tried to ignore it and come up with other explanations, I knew.