Today sure doesn’t feel like
Independence Day. Independence Day represents
freedom, yet I’m feeling much of the opposite.
Diabetes has limited us, trapped us, in a way. No longer can we be spontaneous and grab whatever
food is in the fridge and run to the park for lunch. No longer can we maybe skip a meal because we
are running ourselves crazy at the zoo or somewhere else.
No longer can I leave the house without a cooler full of food, insulin
and syringes. Again, overwhelming. Todd took the rest of the kids last night to
Great Grandma Startup’s to sleep there, run the Freedom Run today, watch the
parade and go to the BBQ. I stayed home
with you. It was the first year I missed
this tradition. I don’t blame you. I
really don’t. It’s all a part of how I’m
processing and working through this grieving process. In fact, I still believe it was the right
decision.
When I say “grieving process” it is
because this is a very real loss. A loss
of the childhood that we once thought you’d have. A loss of spontaneity, of time, of a future
that you may have wanted. Our nurse told us that you can never be a truck driver, a commercial pilot or serve in the military. The pain I feel is a real loss, though one
difficult to explain.
We got home from the hospital last
night and I just don’t feel ready to be away from home with you yet, when I’m
still trying to get my feet under me.
What do I do when you see a popsicle at the BBQ that you want and we’ve
already dosed you for your lunch? What
do I do if you want to graze on the assortment of cookies and other desserts
laid out on the tables? Or if your cousin has licorice at the parade and can
share with everyone but you? How do I
explain that to a 2 year old without looking like a big, mean Mommy!? Yes, it is better that I stayed home with you
today. You’ve been my little buddy and
Maiya has sure missed you so you 2 have spent quality time. You haven’t complained at all.
Grandma Ehlert slept here last
night, helped me with your middle-of-the-night blood check, your carb counting
for breakfast and double-checked my math and insulin draws. She also brought a truckload of food that
Grandpa picked up at Costco, things your Uncle Spencer (also diabetic) always liked to snack on, small 15
carb snacks. Those kinds of things are going
to be good to have around. I got rather
emotional when I saw how much food she brought in. With cupboards that always seem bare, it was
nice to see them full for once. She also
cleaned out a cupboard and set up a “diabetic station” for all your monitors,
syringes, alcohol wipes, strips and journals.
Ironically this station takes place of our once candy cupboard. Grandma started pulling everything out,
throwing things away and Kendra asked, “Well, where will our candy go?” Grandma just chuckled. It will be a good change. A necessary change; one I don’t mind.
Your levels are still in the 200 range today
and your target range is 100-200. Your
ratio right now is for every 20 carbs you eat, I’m to give you .5 units of
insulin and for every 100 over 200 after tested, you get another .5 units of
insulin. We gave you 2.5 units of Lantus
last night. We’ll call the doctor in
about an hour and find out if he wants us to change the ratios again. At the hospital, your ratio was every 30
carb: ½ unit. You get 2 free 15 carb
snacks. Any snack above 15 and I will
need to give you more insulin.
I feel so blessed to be surrounded
by a great support system. Both Grandmas
will be very valuable. Grandma Ehlert
did this entire process with Spencer and knows so much of what I’m going
through and has been so helpful. Grandma
Hillam is the juvenile diabetes educator at Primary Children’s Hospital. So, although she can’t know what I’m dealing
with on a daily basis, she has been teaching parents and kids about diabetes
for most of her life. I also have at
least 3 families in my ward with a diabetic.
In fact, I called MaryEllen Solomon over for our lunchtime insulin draw
today to have her double check my numbers and hold you down. Her son on an LDS mission has diabetes and was
diagnosed at age 11. Not all parents can
go home to the situation that I’ve been blessed with. I’m not sure how I’d get along without them.
I’ve heard people tell me that it
is a good thing you are so young because you will never know any different,
that this will be the only life you know.
I’m not sure that gives me much comfort, to be honest. Other worries I have are: never allowing you
to feel like you are “broken” or that this is an illness. I don’t ever want you to feel like you are
limited in your capabilities. I hope you
will always be a confident boy and I feel the responsibility to instill that in
you at a young age. I have a hunch that
your spirit came prepared for the challenges that lie ahead because, dang, you
are one strong spirit! You touch every
life you come in contact with. You
always have. I don’t know a person who
has met you that has not been drawn to you.
Seriously. I also don’t ever want
your siblings to feel like I’m favoring you or treating you differently. I don’t want YOU to feel like I’m favoring
you. This new mountain to climb will be
climbed as a family, together. All our
eating schedules and what we eat will be changing. A diabetic diet is a healthy diet and can
only help the rest of the family.
Dr.
Donaldson told me a story that has left an impression. It choked me up as he told me. A mother relayed a story about a time when
she was introducing her 4-yr old son (diagnosed at 2) to someone and that he
was a diabetic. The son quickly said,
“I’m still a normal boy, Mom! I just
have diabetes.” So that is what I pray
for you. That you will always feel like
a normal boy and you will never, ever feel limited.
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